"Off to chat! See you later, honey!"
"Gab, gab, gab! That's all you silly ladies do!" Her husband teased, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
The winery owner casually rifled through a grape vine as he watched his wife walk out of sight. He paced through the vineyard, giving her a couple of minutes for good measure.
His eyes moved to his employee. As usual, the young man was working at a feverish pace as if a frost would hit any moment, despite the fact that it was a warm autumn day. The owner's wife often complained that the kid would burn himself out at the rate he was going, but the owner decided not to say anything on the matter today; it wasn't as if their previous talks with him had slowed him down. Besides, he hadn't burnt out yet…
"I'm going out." He announced, smoothing back his graying hair. "I won't be gone for too long. I know you can hold down the fort."
"Sure." The young man raised his thick eyebrows and gave him a knowing look, but said nothing more. He had only been working for around five weeks, but he was already familiar with his boss's "excursions".
That was one thing the owner especially liked about his employee; the boy knew when to keep his mouth shut.
"Manna is not to hear of this," He felt it was necessary to add this.
"Of course." The employee returned to his work, but not without giving his boss a concerned, disapproving look. The young man often spoke more with those deep blue eyes that he did with actual words.
His boss frowned; he wasn't keen on being reminded that he was going behind his wife's back to do this… Of course the boy didn't understand; how could he?
"I hope you never have to experience this yourself, son," His voice was gruff as he headed out of the vineyard. "Don't ever let yourself get to this point…"
"I… I hope it goes well," the young man returned sincerely.
His employer said nothing in reply as he headed out of the gate of the winery.
The bar was empty as usual at this time. The redheaded waitress was topping off the local constable's mug of coffee while they made small talk. He gave the pair a friendly nod in greeting, but he wasn't blind to the policeman's eyes following him as he took a seat a the bar.
"Doug." He said the proprietor's name by way of greeting.
"Duke." His friend's ginger moustache turned up into a small smile, but his honey-brown eyes reflected sympathy. "The usual afternoon pick-me-up?"
"Yes, please, but give me the cheapest you've got. I'm gonna try to squeeze an extra drink out of this." Duke placed a fistful of coins on the counter.
"Manna still keeping you on an allowance?" Doug smirked as he counted the coins.
Duke let out a sigh and nodded. "Hey… If it lets her feel like she's got some sort of control in her life, I don't really give a damn anymore. I've got enough to have a couple of drinks here, and a little bit left over."
"Ah, so business is picking up, eh?" The bartender slid Duke a cheap straight vodka, expertly masking the concern on his face; although they were friends, it usually took Duke a drink or two for him to start speaking this freely.
"Well, you of all people would know that, right? Yeah… We're doing really well. We're making enough to support a full-time employee, after all; we could never do that before."
Doug nodded. "I'm glad; he's a good kid. He and my Ann are almost like siblings, and he can actually make his roommate crack a smile now and then. That's not easy to do."
Duke swallowed his liquor, not really listening to his friend's words. The cheap alcohol burned going down, but he didn't mind; he wasn't drinking for the taste. He frowned. If the winery was doing better, why didn't he feel like he had more control over his own life?
"Hiya, Duke!" Ann bounced behind the bar with her pot of coffee. "Afternoon break?"
"Yeah… Keep it on the down-low, okay, girl?" He winked at her and drained his glass.
"Of course!" She grinned, clattering behind the counter with some empty coffee mugs. "I'm gonna keep an eye on tonight's special, okay, Dad?" She gave Doug a pat on the shoulder and disappeared into the kitchen; she knew when Duke was ordering the cheap stuff and drinking it straight, things often got ugly.
"I'll take another." Duke's voice was husky. "And don't skimp."
His friend was quick to comply; he was never one to judge.
"Ann's a good girl," Duke commented, drinking without tasting.
"She really is," Doug rolled up his sleeves and started putting away clean drinking glasses behind the bar. "She's the only reason I've been able to keep it together for so long," he confessed with a sad smile.
"You are a lucky man," there was no emotion in Duke's voice. He stared at the beads of condensation on his glass, and shifted the drink on the countertop, making a pattern with the rings it left behind.
The bartender could have said the same thing to his friend, but he got the distinct feeling Duke didn't want to hear it today. Doug stuck to the topic of his own daughter. "I… I want her to be happy, though…"
"We only ever want what makes our children happy, am I right?" Duke stared at his aquatic masterpiece on the bar counter.
"I feel like I'm holding her back. Did you… Did you ever feel that way?" Doug kept his voice low.
The winery owner shook his head and drank deeply. "I feel like… I feel like she was wrenched from my arms. And the harder I try to reach out to her, the harder she pulls away…" He felt a lump form in his throat and washed it down with his chilled beverage, taking comfort in the burning sensation that followed.
"Leaving the nest isn't all bad… I think Ann would be happier if she wasn't tied down to this bar," Doug frowned, deep in thought as he clanked the empty glasses while he put them away.
Duke felt his blood boil. "Are you asking for Aja's address so that Ann can make her father miserable as well?!" He spat, slamming down his glass angrily. "Even after all of these years, Aja still won't tell me or Manna where she is staying…" He fumed.
Doug was used to his friend's hot temper. "I want Ann to meet a man who can offer her more…" He explained.
"Where are you gonna find someone like that?" The winery owner rolled his eyes. He finished his second drink and quickly ordered another. "Nowhere in this town, that's for sure."
It was true that his daughter hadn't had much luck in love yet… "Why? Because all of the young men in town are taken?" Doug frowned.
Duke shook his head, noting that the constable was still sitting in the same spot, sipping at his coffee quietly. "This town's the problem; it's dead." He threw back his third vodka and stared at the wall.
"This town isn't dead; there's plenty here," Doug grumbled, putting away the bottle of vodka. "We've had more guests than ever."
His companion snorted. "You hardly have any rooms. You're proud if you can book six beds a night."
Doug scowled at him. "Well, what about the winery? You said yourself that you guys are doing well, plus you have… your new addition." He tried to word it delicately.
Duke said nothing for a long time; they both knew Doug had crossed the line. He poked at the puddles of condensation with his finger. "… I just want my daughter back… I don't understand why you're so eager to see yours leave."
The barkeeper was tired of playing the nice guy. "I don't think of it as leaving; I think of it as her finding her own happiness… Isn't that what Aja did when she left? Think about it, Duke…"
The winery owner felt loosened from his beverages; he was ready. The man fished the remaining coins out of his pocket and slammed them on the counter.
"No." Doug shook his head; he knew they weren't for a drink. "Stop doing this to yourself."
"I'm a paying customer, dammit!" Duke roared. "Let me use your phone!"
"You are my friend, and it hurts to see you do this day after day," The barkeeper said honestly. "Think of your wife. How would Manna feel if she knew what you were doing?" He lowered his voice.
His wife would scream and cry; they'd fight for hours into the night; they'd have to close up the winery and send the kid home. Manna would drill on him about his irresponsibility and Duke would yell over her to hide his guilt. There would be broken plates and broken hearts. She'd accuse him of being nothing more than a huge child, and he would tell her she was so tightly wound and passive aggressive that she was unbearable to be around.
At one point, they'd both break down into tears and inevitably seek comfort in each other. They'd wake up a little late the next morning together, both feeling a bit warmer despite the lack of clothes. It was an ailing, wounded love, but it was enough to keep them going. For what, neither of them were quite sure; perhaps the hope that someday things would make sense again. They would proceed to prepare for the day ahead, neither one saying a word about the night before. That was how fights always went…
"Today will be different," Duke's voice was gruff. "Today I will convince her. I paid; let me use your damn phone."
There was a shriek from the kitchen, followed by a cry of pain. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!"
The bartender's eyes flew to the kitchen door. "Ann, are you alright?"
"Pot holder… slipped…" They could hear the faucet running. "I-I'll be fine," Her voice quavered.
"Ah, she's energetic and peppy, but sometimes that's not the best combination with a commercial kitchen," Doug gave his friend a wry smile.
"Go to her. She's hurt."
"Ann's twenty-three; she can handle herself." The barkeeper's smile faded and his eyes hardened; he knew what his friend was trying to do.
"She's your daughter, for Goddess' sake. I'd give the world to treat a minor burn on Aja," Duke's voice cracked.
Doug's features softened as he obediently hurried to the kitchen. "Ann…"
Duke sat up straight and gazed at the variety of bottles behind the counter. What was he doing here, anyway? He could easily get drunk down in his own cellars. He didn't come to Doug's just for the solitude… After all, there was no real privacy at the inn. The winery owner's eyes moved to the corner of the room, and he noticed with a sigh that the constable was the world's slowest coffee drinker.
He didn't care; he grabbed the phone.
Aja's phone number consisted solely of the digits five, seven, and eight. As his thick fingers danced through the holes of the rotary phone, he realized these same three digits had been worn off of the device over the years.
He listened to the dial tone as he caught his breath. This was his favorite part of the entire day; he would get to hear that voice.
"Hello…"
His heart swelled. "Hey, Aja! It's your Da-"
"This is Aja Cava. I'm sorry I can't come to the phone right now, but please leave a message! Bye!" A familiar musical voice filled his ears and a piercing beep followed.
"Ah… Aja, it's Dad…" He let out a strained laugh. "I-I forgot today was your due date for your big project at work… I'll try tomorrow and you can tell me how it went. I hope you're having a good day; talk to you soon… We… we love you, Aja…" His voice cracked as he hung up the phone.
Not today…
Duke's heart sunk as he stood up and straightened his bow tie.
The constable tipped his cap to Duke as he walked past. "Duke…"
"I left the change on the counter; you saw that I paid," The winery owner turned away; he wasn't in the mood for talking anymore.
"I-It's not that…" Harris started to reach into his pocket.
"You're going to write me a ticket or apprehend me?" Duke scoffed. "Go find someone else to bother." He stalked out of the bar, but he slammed the door loudly behind him.
The policeman unfolded the envelope in his pocket and frowned as he watched Duke sulk back to his winery. It was a letter written to Harris himself, but he often battled with the decision whether or not to show it to Duke. The policeman's fingers traced over the curly letters on the return address.
Aja Cava… 963 Acorn Lane, Apartment 23B…
0o0o0o0
Author's Note: This Thanksgiving, I am grateful for my family…
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