Everything She Never Wanted

Chapter 3

3

Cynthia sat back and listened to the music drifting from the speakers as Henry drove. She felt like she was back in high school. Driving around with Henry, out together. The two of them against the world.

When he turned toward the high school, she knew he was taking her to the football field. They used to hang around after school, her checking out the football players and him listening to her complain about one guy or another. She was blind not to have noticed the way he looked at her. He was loyal, more loyal than any of her boyfriends had been. Henry stayed by her side, never admitting how much it probably hurt to listen to her talk about the guys she liked.

He parked in the lot, headlights shining on the metal bleachers rising from the ground. He turned to face her and she saw his sheepish grin in the moonlight.

“Maybe we should go someplace else. It’s pretty cold out there.”

“I have blankets,” Cynthia offered. Her mom taught her to always be prepared. In the northeast, that meant blankets in the car during the winter, along with flares and flashlights and the knowledge to change a flat tire if necessary. She’d needed all of them at one time or another.

Cynthia opened one of the bins in her trunk and dug out two blankets. Henry took them from her and handed her keys back. They walked, hand-in-hand again, to the bleachers, jumping the fence surrounding the football field and climbing the stairs to sit in the top row, like they always did.

Henry brushed snow off the seat with a thinly gloved hand. He wrapped her in one of the blankets before tugging the second one, the thinner, smaller blanket around his large frame.

Cynthia took a minute to appreciate the changes in her best friend. Not that she thought she was entitled to call him that after so many years, but in her mind, Henry would always be her best friend. Gone was the chubby guy who stood by her, held her when she cried over one break-up after another, let her complain about her lack of a father, and was always there. The new Henry was much more attractive, but he was still Henry. He was still the guy he’d always been. He was there with her, in the one place she always thought of him. Snuggling next to her and just sitting. Not pushing.

“I’m sorry I haven’t kept in touch with you,” she said quietly. “I should have. I just didn’t know how.”

Henry huffed a breath that she knew meant he didn’t want to have the conversation. Cynthia shouldn’t have brought it up after the week he had, but she felt she needed to say something. “I don’t think I would have returned any of your calls if you tried. I was hurt and pissed off.”

“And now?”

He shrugged. “My dad just died. I talked to him three days ago. He was excited because he got tickets to a show Mom wanted to see. He was going to surprise her. Then he got a headache, laid down to rest, and never woke up. Maybe this is harsh, but you’re not at the forefront of my mind right now. And honestly, you haven’t been in a while.”

Cynthia leaned her head on his shoulder. They sat like that for five minutes, or an hour, Cynthia didn’t know. She didn’t care either. She was back with Henry. Time stood still when they were together.

“What are you doing now that you’re home?”

“I’ve been writing some freelance articles. Keeping my name out there. I’m hoping something will come up and I can settle again, but it’s a hard business to be in.”

“Is freelance a good possibility?”

“For now. If I can get picked up by one of the major publications, then yeah, it’ll be great. But long term, it isn’t enough. I’m hoping to find something in another city.”

He shook with a silent laugh. “You always loved the city. You and Alyssa. Neither of you could wait to get the hell out of Bereton.”

“I thought I saw her at the wake.”

“Yep. She moved back over the summer. Married Jake.”

“Jake?”

“The guy she dated the summer after we graduated. He took over for Harry.”

“Oh, that’s right. I think I met him a few times. What brought her back?”

Cynthia’s head shifted with his shrug. “Life. Her third marriage fell apart and she had nowhere to go. The aunts were retiring and the timing worked out for Alyssa to come back. Of course, she didn’t have a choice, but that’s besides the point.”

Cynthia sat up and looked at Henry. “What do you mean, didn’t have a choice?”

She grinned. “The aunts set it up that we wouldn’t inherit the vineyard unless we all stay for a year and work. Alyssa included. We all knew it was a ploy to get her to stay, but it worked and she and Jake got back together.”

“It’s nice to know she’s happy. How is everyone else doing?”

Henry nodded. “Good. Andie and Cody are dating now. Kristen and Phillip broke up.”

“Phillip? That scrawny kid she used to hang around with?”

Henry chuckled. “Yep. They’ve been dating on and off for years. They split a few months ago though and haven’t gotten back together so I guess it’s over this time.”

“Wow. I still think of Kristen as a kid. She was twelve or thirteen the last time I saw her.”

“A lot can happen in fifteen years,” Henry said, a hint of regret and a healthy dose of anger in his tone.

Cynthia sat silently for a few minutes, unsure what to say. The fact that Henry was even speaking to her was a relief. She didn’t expect him to be cruel because that wasn’t Henry, but she didn’t expect the relatively warm welcome she got either.

“I should get home,” Henry said after a few minutes. “I need to be there early in the morning.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Cynthia said, feeling foolish. She was feeling sorry for herself and Henry was trying to find a way to tell her he had to go home. “I’m sorry I kept you out so late.”

Henry rolled their blankets up and reached for her hand. “It was my fault. I shouldn’t have come here tonight.”

She didn’t press for more about his cryptic words. They walked back to her car and she drove to Amavita in silence. When she pulled onto the property, Cynthia realized she had no idea where Henry lived.

“Where to?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry. Follow this straight and take a right at the fork. We’re at the end.”

We? she wanted to ask. Who did Henry live with? Did he have a girlfriend? She was pretty sure he wasn’t married since he didn’t have a ring on, but anything was possible. Why wasn’t his girlfriend or wife at the wake? And why did Henry run off with her instead of whoever he lived with?

Cynthia followed his instructions until she found his house, dead center of the vineyard and surrounded by twisted branches that would be the lifeblood of Amavita Estates again in a few months. It was hard for her to imagine the place without Mr. Wilson walking the vines.

“Thanks for the ride,” Henry said, his hand on the latch. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

She nodded before she had a chance to think about it. Her mother was going to the funeral, and she’d already braved the wake. The funeral would be easy by comparison.

“My mom is coming, too.”

Henry nodded. “It’ll be good to see her. It was good to see you, too.”

Cynthia smiled. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, like he’d done thousands of times, but for once, she wanted him to linger. He pulled away and was out of her car and running toward his house, and the warmth of whoever was inside waiting for him.

A sharp knock on the door brought Henry’s eyes from his tie in the mirror to the opening door. “You about ready?” Zach asked, sticking his head in.

“No,” Henry answered honestly. He didn’t think he’d ever be ready for the day. How does a person prepare to say goodbye to their parent forever? But he knew that wasn’t the question Zach was really asking. “I can’t get this f*****g tie right.”

Zach came into his room as Henry yanked out the failed knot. Zach was perfectly pressed in a suit he’d worn other times. His tie had a perfect knot. Even his damn hair was perfect.

Henry wanted to punch him.

But it wasn’t his cousin’s fault he’d been twisted in knots all night. No, that honor belonged to the woman he never thought he’d see again. And then guilt over the fact that he was thinking about Cynthia and not his dead father. Then more guilt for thinking of his father as simply ‘dead’ and not one of the nicer, gentler words that everyone else used.

Passed.

Deceased.

Moved on.

It all meant the same thing. That Henry couldn’t go into his parents’ house and see his father. That he’d never stumble across him wandering the vineyard. That every family gathering would feel a little empty.

It f*****g hurt.

Henry slammed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets, hoping to stifle the tears brewing. Zach silently tied a knot in Henry’s tie, then clapped him on the back.

“Limo’s waiting.”

Nonna insisted they hire limo drivers for the day. The others protested, but she went to Henry and Ryan and convinced them. She said when Nonno died, they were all so distraught they nearly left Dillon, the only one of the nine cousins who was born at the time, at the church. Between them all, they could take care of themselves and there was only one child, eleven year old Emily, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t benefit from having one less thing to worry about.

Henry figured Nonna knew what she was talking about and booked the rides. As he stepped outside into the snow, he was glad they’d made that call.

Zach climbed into the limo first, then Henry followed. Zach directed the driver to Ryan and Leo’s house, then to Jo’s. Before leaving the vineyard, they also picked up Aunt Marie and Nonna. The others were booked in the other two limos. They coordinated well and ended up driving down the streets of Bereton together.

Henry pulled in a deep breath when they parked in front of the funeral home. They all filed out, rushing into the warmth. It was ironic to have a place that reeked of death full of such warmth, but it was. Henry took his place next to his mother as the pall bearers moved the casket to the back of the hearse. They all piled back into the limos and drove the few blocks to St. Urban’s. The hearse pulled up first, followed by the three limos, in front of the church. Henry’s four male cousins plus Jake and Cody were the pall bearers, leading the way, carrying his father into church for the last time. Henry, Jo, and Ryan followed the casket, then the rest of the family.

Henry didn’t dare look around at the crowd as they walked in. He sat on the end of the front pew next to his mother, holding her hand through the mass. When Father Richard stood for his homily and spoke about Victor, Henry struggled to keep from crying.

When the mass was finished, Father Richard invited Henry up to the ambo for the eulogy. With heavy feet, he stood and moved up the steps to face the congregation, keeping his mother’s words in his mind. Henry pulled out the speech he’d prepared, hoping he had the strength to get through it all.

His eyes scanned the crowd, knowing Cynthia was there. For some reason, he felt the need to see her before he started speaking. To know she was there. Before he could locate her, he saw Albert Perry, the owner of their neighboring vineyard, Perry Mount. He wanted to throw the bastard out on his a*s. After what Perry put his father through, Henry couldn’t believe the son of a b***h had the guts to show up. He was sitting at the back, but still. He was there. Acting like he gave a s**t.

Henry tightened his fists and slowly released them, forcing his eyes from Perry’s. He found Cynthia a few pews ahead of Perry, his eyes landing on her as she wiped a tear from her lashes, and he felt like he could breathe again.

“My father was an amazing man. My earliest memories are walking the rows of vines with him. He was one of the smartest people I’ve ever known, but he was also kind and considerate and one of my best friends.”

Henry paused to take a breath, then continued.

“My entire life was one lesson after another. From the words he told me in the vines to the way he treated people. The most important person to my father was my mother.” He met her eyes and smiled at her. “My parents were best friends in college, but when they fell in love, my dad said he felt like he finally found what he was meant to do. Not make wine, but make her happy. He worked a lot, but he was always around for Mom. For Ryan and I, too. We were the most important things in his life, and there wasn’t a day I doubted that.

“Dad used to tell me that when I met the woman I was going to spend the rest of my life with, we had to have a foundation of friendship. He said the reason his marriage to my mom was so strong was because they weren’t just married, but were each other’s sounding board. She was the one person he always wanted to turn to when he needed to talk or was bothered by something or had good news to share. She was it for him. He always encouraged me to find the same thing. A best friend who would become my everything.

“But dad’s advice was not limited to relationships. He had a lot of opinions on growing grapes, too. Say it with me everyone. ‘Don’t you dare eat the profits.’”

The rest of the church joined in for, “We’ll buy you grapes from the store if you want grapes.”

Henry smiled and sought Cynthia out again while the crowd laughed. She was smiling, saying something to her mom. When she looked up, their eyes met and he felt like he was kicked again.

“Dad was always teaching me about growing grapes. When I was a kid, I thought he was just being mean.” The crowd laughed again. “As I grew, I learned he was looking out for the vineyard. For profits and quality. I think there was a little bit of not wanting me to wander around and eat grapes, but there was always more to everything my dad said than just the words. There was a lesson in it all. Whether that lesson was one I learned when it was being taught, or years later, there was always a lesson. I want to share a few of the ones I learned from my dad.”

Henry flipped his page over and swallowed. He could hear his dad’s voice in his head as he read through the list in front of him. Nothing would ever bring his dad back, and no one would ever replace him, but Henry knew he would carry his father with him for the rest of his life. His words, his actions, his love.

“The most important thing in the world is family. Be there for your family, no matter what.

“Find a woman who makes you smile. Someone who lets you be who you really are and who will love you for the person buried inside.

“Say I love you every day. Even if you already said it once, say it again. Everyone loves hearing those words. Don’t ever stop saying them.

“Find joy in what you do for a living. If you don’t love it, do something else.

“Life is too short to be unhappy. Smile as often as possible. Happier people live longer.

“Don’t waste your money on bad wine. No further explanation is needed for that one.”

Everyone laughed with Henry.

“And last, do something for yourself every day. It’s easy to get distracted by your responsibilities and the people you love, but make sure you take time out for yourself. Go for a run or a swim. Go for a drive or a walk. Get outside, stay in. Whatever it is you want to do, take time every day to do something that will make you happy.”

Henry folded his papers up and went back to his seat. His mom grasped his hands and held on tight. She was crying, but she was also smiling. She rested her head on Henry’s shoulder before they all stood for the final blessing from Father Richard.

“Lord, please take our brother, Victor, home with you. Please guide his steps on his path to you. Help this family to heal and always remember he will be with them. In your name, we pray…”

“Amen,” the congregation said.

They all filed out, the family accepting condolences and apologies from well-wishers while the funeral director slid the coffin back into the hearse. They’d opted out of a gravesite visit since nothing could be done for a few months. Amavita was hosting a reception, and Henry wanted to make sure Cynthia was going to be there.

She walked up with her mom. Ms. Hill hugged him and said she was sorry before she moved to the side for Cynthia to approach. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sighed against his chest when he pulled her in for a hug. She felt so good in his arms, he struggled to let go.

“Are you joining us for the reception?” he asked before she was able to leave.

“Reception?”

“At Amavita. Please. I’d like you both to come.”

Cynthia looked at her mom and they both nodded. “We’d love to, Henry. Thank you for inviting us.” Ms. Hill patted his arm then smiled past him. “I’m going to say hi to your mom.”

Cynthia stood to the side, looking out of place and uncomfortable. He could relate. He’d had that feeling all day. Except when he held her. Henry wanted to pull her back into his arms, but he didn’t dare. He might not let her go if he had another chance to hold her.