I shook my head, laughing a little because I remembered those days all too well. “I know they do. I certainly did. But she never acted this way before the divorce and I’m just worried some of it’s coming from being deserted by her dad.”
“That’s why you have to talk to her. Or find a therapist for her. Mack’s girls went to someone after his ex left. Want her number? They really liked her.”
“Yes, please,” I said.
“You got it. I’ll get it from Mack and text it to you.” She stood up and tucked her phone into her purse. “You gonna be okay?”
I nodded. “Yeah. It just seems like whenever I think I’m making progress at my fresh start, something sets me back.”
“This isn’t a setback, Syl. It’s a little bump on the parenting road. You can handle it.”
I smiled at her and took a deep breath. “Thanks. And thanks again for having them last night.”
“My pleasure. We had fun. Did you enjoy your night alone?”
My face got hot. “Um, yes. I enjoyed it a lot.”
“Sylvia . . .” Frannie’s head tilted. “Why are your cheeks so red?”
“Because I wasn’t exactly alone.”
She gasped. “What?”
I covered my face with both hands. “I can’t even believe I’m telling you this.”
“Oh my God—you were with Henry, weren’t you?”
I nodded, still hiding behind my palms.
“I knew it!” she crowed. “I told Mack something was up between you two on Christmas Eve. So what happened?”
I let my hands fall into my lap. “Everything.”
“Like, everything everything?”
“Three times.”
Frannie squealed and bounced around. “Oh my God, Sylvia! That’s amazing!” She stopped moving. “Wait—was it amazing?”
I nodded. “It really was. I haven’t been able to think about anything else all day.”
“Wow. So you and Henry.”
“There’s not really a me and Henry. We’re not exactly sure what we’re doing,” I admitted.
“Do you have to know right now? I mean, can’t you guys just see where it goes?”
“That’s sort of the plan,” I told her. “So don’t say anything to anyone, okay?”
“My lips are sealed,” she said, pretending to zip them shut. “I won’t even tell Mack if you don’t want me too.”
I didn’t like asking my sister to keep a secret from her husband, but I felt like the fewer people who knew right now, the better. “Thanks. I don’t think Henry would mind if Mack knew, but—”
Frannie held up her hands. “Do not worry. I totally get it. When Mack and I were first messing around, it was the same way—we had to keep it from everyone, especially the kids.” She dropped her arms. “Although, as it turns out, we weren’t really fooling them.”
Frowning, I said, “Yeah, kids are smart. And mine have been through so much, I just don’t want to add any complications.”
“But you deserve to be happy too, Syl,” Frannie said softly. “And if spending time with Henry makes you happy, I say go for it.”
“Thanks.” I looked down at my hands in my lap, wishing it were that easy. “I’m supposed to go over to the winery and see him later tonight. Now I wonder if I shouldn’t just stay here and be with the kids. Talk to Whitney.”
“Can’t you do both?”
“Maybe.” That was really the question, wasn’t it? Could I be the kind of mother I needed to be and also have this sexy thing with Henry on the side?
I wasn’t sure I really wanted the answer to that question.
Downstairs, Whitney begged me to let Millie sleep over, and Frannie said it was okay with her. I said it was fine, relieved that at least I was off the hook tonight—I didn’t want to have the Instagram conversation with anyone else around. Plus, I needed some time to think about how I was going to approach it. I didn’t want to be angry and accusatory—that was not a tactic that worked well with preteen girls. And it wasn’t like I didn’t understand her desire to feel beautiful.
My God, wasn’t that the reason I loved being around Henry? Because of the way he made me feel about myself? Because I’d felt ugly and worthless for so long? Were all the likes Whitney was hoping for akin to the attention Henry paid me? How could I judge her when I was guilty too? Was I a hypocrite?
It started to bother me so much that I decided to text Henry and tell him I couldn’t come. I took out my phone and brought up his contact info—Big Dick DeSantis—and it made me laugh. Maybe I wouldn’t cancel. A little wine and laughter with Henry sounded pretty damn good right now. It might not solve any of my problems, but they weren’t going to get worse while I was gone, right?
And it’s not like we had to have sex. We could just talk. He could start teaching me. I just liked being around him.
After getting the kids supplied with snacks and drinks and blankets in the family room, I told my dad I was going over to the winery to help Henry with something.
“This late on a Sunday?” My dad’s brow furrowed as he settled on one end of the couch, opposite Keaton. “What on earth is he still doing there?”
“I’m not sure,” I said, hurrying away before he could ask any more questions. “But I won’t be long.”
I bundled up and walked over to the winery. Henry’s truck was in the lot, but since it wasn’t totally covered in snow I knew he must have left at some point and come back. I wondered if he’d eaten dinner out or at home alone.
When I reached the large glass door, I looked inside, but didn’t see him right away. I pulled the handle, surprised to find he’d left it open. He appeared at the top of the cellar stairs as it closed behind me.
“Hey,” he said, a smile on his face. “You made it.”
“I made it.” My heart tripped faster at the sight of him, and my insides tightened. I pulled off my hat and gloves, setting them on a high-top table.
He approached and glanced behind me. “Alone, right?”
“Alone.”
“Good.” He locked the door, switched off the overhead lights, and took me in his arms. When his lips met mine, rekindling the fire inside me, I knew I hadn’t come here just to talk.
I’d come here to feel.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back until we were both breathless and hot and frustrated by the bulky layers of clothing between us.
“Come here,” he said, taking me by the hand. Making our way through the dark, he brought me to the steps and led me down into the cellar. He took me past the steel tanks and rows of oak barrels to his office door, shouldered it open, and tugged me inside the small, dark room.
“Lesson one,” he said, shutting the door behind me. “Never let the winemaker get you in his office after hours.”
I laughed as he unzipped my coat and tossed it aside.
“Lesson two,” he went on, lifting my sweater over my head and unhooking my bra. “Do not, under any circumstances, allow him to undress you.”
“I think I’m going to fail this course,” I murmured as he knelt down and yanked my boots off.