Perfect

* * *

Mom drove me to the Queen of the Valley ER in the driving rainstorm. Of course, even in the middle of the night, the ER was packed, with a number of traffic accidents and weather related injuries generating most of the patients. We waited for three hours in a crowded waiting room before we were seen. The resident on duty, a woman who looked like she was sixteen, had my wrist X-rayed. Fortunately, it was just a sprain, and it was wrapped tightly. I was given a prescription for pain killers and sent on my way. We went to a 24 hour pharmacy to get my prescription filled and didn't get home until 3 a.m.

I took the recommended dosage of tablets and then, over the objections of my mother, and even though I looked (and felt) like shit, I drove the ATV to the cellar with my one good arm. Fortunately I had an oversized rain parka that fit over the ace bandage on my wrist. The rain was still steady and I thought I would see barrels floating on dirty rain water.

Instead, I saw a few of our workers tinkering with a large portable generator and a thick cable running into the wine cellar. I could hear the sound of sump pumps and gushing water running down towards the creek. I saw Dad coming out of the cellar. He looked tired, but happy.

I hugged him with my one good arm. "What happened?" I asked, before he could ask me the same question.

He wiped his brow with the sleeve of his coat. "The real question is how are you?"

"I'm fine," I answered with as much confidence as I could muster, knowing I must have looked like a wreck. "Turns out there was nothing broken. I'm on some good pain meds now and I should be good as new in no time. So what happened here?"

"Martin had his guys bring over his generator and portable sumps. He's had the same issue in the past and had this equipment stored in his barn."

Martin really came through. Everything looked like it was under control. When I left, I thought the situation was hopeless.

Walking inside was easy. The cave was well lit with the addition of two large LED arrays. Dad was right behind me when I peeked in the pump room. I could see that our pumps were idle, but the fresh set of portable pumps were more than doing the job. The water level had receded and the barrels were safe.

"Thank God for Martin. I recognize his last name. Own lots of vineyard land," I shouted over the noise of the pumps.

"His family owns a lot of land on the Napa and Sonoma sides of the Mayacamas. He came over last night to talk about a sale of a large parcel on the Sonoma side." Dad walked outside the pump room so we could hear each other.

"Martin's running the family business."

It wasn't in my nature, but I didn't notice a wedding ring on his hand. "Is he married?"

Dad grinned. It wasn't like me to ask that question. I'd never shown any real interest in getting married.

"So you fancy him?"

I'm not sure that I did, and in any event wouldn't show my hand to my father. "No ... just curious."

His face said he wasn't buying my explanation. "Not that I know of. I know you're interested in expanding production, and he's got some great acreage for sale."

That was good to hear. He saved the day for us, and might have some valuable land to sell to us. The crisis was over. I needed to get to bed.

I wrapped my wrist in plastic wrap and took an awkward shower. My hair still had mud in it, and I was chilled to the bone. The shower felt great, the first good thing to happen in a very long day. Mom helped me with my pajamas and I was in bed around 5 a.m.

* * *

I slept until late afternoon. I found out that Dad didn't make it back to the house until 8 a.m. Dad didn't want to admit it, but the long night in the cave took its toll. He was pretty much housebound for the next two weeks -- doctor's orders. He called me into his study. He was sitting behind his desk in his robe and slippers.

"Looks like I'm out of action for a while. The deal with the Striler's is on a fast track. That's why I had to meet with Martin last night."

"What can I do?"

"You OK to travel with a sprained wrist?"

"No problem. I can drive with my right hand."

"I need you to take a look at the land. The price seems reasonable if it's as advertised. Martin told me that they were pretty much ready to develop this parcel when another deal that they were waiting on finally closed. They don't have enough capital or manpower to cover both projects so they're selling this one." He pulled out a map (Dad's old school -- he still liked paper maps) and drew a circle around the land that was for sale. It was almost on the crest of the mountain, sandwiched between two mature vineyards.

"That's a good spot," I noted. "Good western sun exposure and it benefits from a cool evening breeze through the Petaluma Gap."

"Precisely. You want it as bad as I do, don't you?" Dad beamed as he said it. The teacher had taught the student well.

"I do. It makes a lot of sense for us. Provided you have the cash."

"We do. Listen, I've got an appointment with Martin tomorrow. Since I'm under house arrest, can you cover the meeting for me? It's a full site inspection."

"Sure. I'd love to." It would be good to see Martin again too.

"Good. I'll text you the address and the time."

* * *

The meeting was at 10 a.m. at the Striler residence. We got a temporary reprieve from the rain, but there were still puddles in his driveway. Martin was out front with the hood up on his old Ford pick-up. Looked like it was from the 60's. He was bent over the engine compartment fiddling with something when I pulled up. He looked up and smiled when he saw me. He wiped his hands on a rag and came up to the driver's side door and opened it.

"It's a real treat to see you again so soon. Dave called me and told me that you were coming in his place." He looked me up and down. "You clean up real nice."

I actually made an effort that morning to look my best. I picked out my best fitting jeans, a pair of relatively new cowboy boots and a white blouse. Even a little lipstick and blush. I left a button open to show a bit of my "C" cup breasts. His compliment gave me a warm glow. I hadn't had that feeling in a long time.

"So how's the wrist?"

"It's still a bit sore, but it'll be fine." I looked at the pick-up. "Sixty-four?"

"You got it. It was my father's, and he gave it to me for my sixteenth birthday. I'm trying to keep it in tip top shape, just like Dad would have wanted me to."

I didn't want to ask, but my face must have posed the question.

"Dad passed away about five years ago. Cancer. But he lived a good life. You would have liked him."

I decided a return compliment was in order. "If he was like you, I'm sure I would have."

I could tell I hit the right chord with him.

The conversation was getting more personal, and to break the serious tone, Martin asked, "Can I get you some coffee?"

That sounded good, and I was getting a bit uncomfortable as well. "Sure," I told him.

I followed him into the house. A beautiful example of Craftsman architecture. Wood galore decorated with Stickley furniture. The kitchen had jade green granite countertops, a perfect accompaniment to the rich wood colors. He poured a cup for me. After he handed it to me he poured one for himself.

"Cream or sugar?"

"Just black."

He took a sip, but he didn't take his eyes off of me. I've never seen a man openly watch me. I liked the feeling. "Have any brothers or sisters?" he asked politely, probably knowing the answer already.

"A brother and a sister."

"Ahhh." There was a glint of recognition. "Chas, is it?"

"Yes," I said with an exaggerated sigh.

"I've never met him but I've heard a lot about him ...". His voice trailed off as he tried to think of something nice to say but failed.

"I know what you mean." He didn't have to say it.

"Yeah ...," he said, drawing out the last letter a bit to acknowledge that we were of like mind. He grinned at me and I knew that meant he was thanking me for taking him off the hook.

"I have a sister, too," I added, almost as an afterthought.

"Oh?"

"Emily. She's living at home with her daughter."

Martin was a smart cookie. He probably already figured out she was a single mom, and that she didn't have independent means to live on her own.

"Divorced?"

He got it.

"Yeah ..." I said in kind. He saved me the pain of telling him what I really thought about my sister.

Then it occurred to me that it was my turn.

"And you?" I asked.

"Two brothers and a sister." He continued without prompting. "Jacob and Isaac, identical twins. I think my parents were on a biblical kick at that time." He chuckled softly. I thought it was cute. "They're both mathematicians, and live on the East Coast, and then I have a sister, Gretchen. She works in the business as well, and is just finishing up some negotiations in San Francisco before she goes overseas."

"Where?" I was just curious.

"Australia. The company is expanding its operation there. She's going to supervise the construction of a tasting room and production facility. We want to be up and running in two years."

Impressive. I wanted to meet this woman.

"She's in the City for probably a week, meeting with bankers and architects. Then a week here, then off to Australia."

It sounded glamorous, adventurous and scary. "I'd like to meet her before she goes."

He gave me a funny expression. Not what I would have expected.

"Gretch is kind of a loner. Don't be offended if she doesn't want to meet you."

I thought it odd that he would talk about his sister like that. It sounded like he had given this warning before.

"No problem," I fired back, relieving his discomfort. "I know she's busy with preparations to go, so if she doesn't have the time I'll meet her when she's back."

"Thanks for your understanding." He said it as if he'd made that apology many times before.

* * *

"So that's were I'd put a water tank. The well is over there." Martin was pointing to a large white plastic pipe, capped at the top. If we bought this property we'd have to install the pump and holding tank for the irrigation of the vineyard. He stepped over some dead branches and pointed to the peak of the mountain, maybe a hundred yards uphill.

"I'd site my main block up there. It's got the best sun exposure, and it's sheltered from the evening breeze."

I followed his fingers, shading my eyes from the glare of the sun.

"And over there, I'd put the irrigation pond." Then he turned the other direction. "And I'd orient the rows this direction," gesturing with his hands, "and I'd make the rows six feet apart so you can fit a narrow tractor or an ATV."

He seemed to have it all mapped out in his head. "Did you come up with this plan?" I asked, admiring his thought process. It's exactly what I would have done.

He smiled, as if he'd been paid an unexpected compliment. "I wish I could take credit for it. It's Gretchen who thought this all out. I'm just the business guy. Gretchen's our vineyard expert. That's why she's going to Australia. She's the best at building out a new vineyard. I know she's disappointed that we had to sell this property, but with all of the effort going into another new parcel we bought up near Geyserville and the new Australian operation, we were pretty much tapped out."

I had to admire her vision. It was really an ideal location for a hillside vineyard, and with plenty of water and vested rights for the development of the vineyard, it was pretty much a no brainer to recommend we buy it. I noticed that Martin was stealing a glance at me.

"So that's pretty much it for the tour. I think I've shared everything I know." He paused for a moment. "Did you want to catch lunch somewhere?"

He feigned ambivalence as to my answer, but I knew he was interested in me, and had timed his invitation perfectly. He made it difficult to resist.

"Sure," I answered, making him smile.

He wined and dined me at his favorite eatery on the Sonoma square. He turned out to be an engaging conversationalist. We found we had much in common, aside from wine. Detective novels, science fiction, movies from the 50's and 60's and it went on and on. Before we knew it, the staff was changing over the restaurant from lunch to dinner.

* * *

"How'd it go?" Dad asked me the minute I walked in the kitchen door. He was finishing a beer in the kitchen and had out a bowl of freshly made popcorn. I took a handful as a flyby on my way to my room and then paused to eat it.

"Good ... the property was perfect. We should definitely buy it." I stuffed my mouth with popcorn, even though I had a huge lunch with Martin.

"I kind of figured you'd say that. From Martin's description, it's a perfect fit for us."

The popcorn was good. I decided to hang out for another minute. "Perfect," I echoed. I grabbed another handful. Dad buttered it. It was all over my hand. I ate that handful, and then another, and then licked my fingers.

"So how come it took five hours for a one hour vineyard tour?" I'm sure he knew the answer but wanted me to say it out loud.

He looked smug but he was right. "Martin took me to lunch."

"Where?"

"The Girl and the Fig ... you know ... on the Square."

He put his hand on his chin as if he was thinking. He'd been to Fig with me. He knew it was a nice place, where you'd want to impress somebody. "Nice ... he must like you."

It was my first legitimate love interest in as long as any of could remember.

"He does like me," I admitted. "He so much as told me at the end of the lunch."

"What did he say?" Dad wasn't content to go away without details. He knew that Mom would grill him once he told her that I'd gone to lunch with Martin Striler and didn't want to go to her empty handed.

"He said that we had a lot in common, and he'd like to see me again."

Dad eyes lit up. Not like they have in a long time. "He's a good one Kitten. I've known his family for years, and Martin since he was a little boy."

He stopped. He could have said more but decided not to push me too hard. He'd done that in the past, much to his regret when I got angry with him.

"So when are you seeing him again?" he asked, going to safer ground.

"We're going to ride horses on his ranch. He invited me over this coming Saturday ... as long as it's not raining. I'm going to bring my horse."

Our family always had horses, and as a little girl I rode every day. With the press of business, I rarely got the opportunity to ride, so my horse Kit Kat was mostly out in the pasture. Kit Kat was a brown mare that was given to me on my 18^th birthday. She was chocolate brown ... and I guess you can figure out the name of my favorite candy bar.

"That's good," Dad said, concluding the conversation. In his mind he was getting a great piece of land, and maybe a son-in-law to boot.

* * *

Martin was vying to be the first serious boyfriend I'd ever had. For the first time, my thoughts were divided between the wine business and my potential relationship with him. I was excited to go on a ride with him and carved out the time to go shopping with my Mom and buy a new outfit for my visit. Mom was in the room to apply my make-up.

"You're going to look nice," she told me. She was helping me with my mascara, which I never wear. I looked in the mirror. I looked good. I probably would have attracted more male interest if I paid attention to the details, but up until now it seemed like a waste of time.

I got up and looked in the full length mirror. My hair was plaited down to the middle of my back. You could see natural highlights in it from the sun exposure. I was wearing a new gauzy white cotton blouse, tight fitting light tan breeches, chocolate brown riding boots and a matching belt. I could actually see the contours of my breasts. I was admiring the curves. I'm usually wearing a hoodie and jeans. I almost didn't recognize myself.

"Sharp," said Mom, admiring my image in the mirror. "Jamie, you can be a lovely gal when you want to be."

I almost blushed. We really never did this together before ... like this. I had to admit I enjoyed the process and the end result.

* * *

My F-150 pulled my horse trailer into the dirt parking lot adjoining their barn. Martin was already out brushing his horse. He was wearing a plaid shirt and jeans and a well-loved pair of riding boots. He waved as I pulled in.

I hopped out of the truck to greet him. He had a big grin on his face and gave me a hug. "So happy to see you." He held me at arm's length. "My God, you're gorgeous."

I did blush. "Thanks. I didn't have anything to wear to go riding. I haven't been out in quite a while so I decided to buy a new outfit."

"You look great." He stepped around to the back of my trailer. "Let me help you."

He flipped open the latch on the trailer door. He helped me lower the ramp, then I led Kit Kat out. Martin slung my saddle over his shoulder and followed me to the barn. When we reached the horse trough, Kit Kat stopped to get a drink. He put his hand over mine, the one holding Kit Kat's lead. I could feel the callouses of a man who knew hard work.

"I'll take care of him. Why don't you look around?"

I took him up on his offer and let go of the lead. It was so long since I was in this game. It was the first time he touched me, other than to shake my hand. I wondered if he was going to try to kiss me.

Instead of obsessing on it, I decided to have a look around. An impressive barn, eight stalls for horses on one end and his car collection on the other. The areas were separated by sliding glass doors. I walked past the horses that were trying to nuzzle me and went to the sliding doors. I pulled the door open and then closed it behind me. The motion activated lights switched on. There were eight cars, four on each side. There were battery tender cables attached to each of them.

I looked down. Epoxied floor. This was the most deluxe car collection I'd ever seen. I didn't recognize most of them by looks, though I did recognize the manufacturers -- Ferrari, Lamborghini, Porsche were ones that I'd heard of. There were a couple I didn't -- Pagani, McLaren. They all looked frightfully expensive. I heard the ventilation system kick on. Then a tap on my shoulder.

I jumped.

"You found my car collection."

I had to gather my wits to answer.

"Impressive," I told him, locking onto the Ferrari. It was a beautiful, and sexy car. "So you're a car collector too."

"Technically I'm not." He walked over to the Ferrari and reached under an alcove in the door to find the hidden handle. He swung the door open. "I drive them."

"Get in," he told me, holding the door open for me. I looked at my boots. There were bits of straw stuck to the bottom of them.

"Don't worry about it," he said, reading my mind.

I sat in the driver's seat. There was a resounding thud when he closed the door. I smelled fresh leather. The chrome shift knob was recently polished. It felt fast.

He opened the door. 'You like?"

Of course I like. Who wouldn't, I told him.

"Someday we'll go for a ride in the pony," he said, helping me out of the car, pulling me up. His hand holding mine lingered. He let go.

My braid got stuck under my collar. I shook my head to free it.

"You have lovely hair Jamie." The compliment was sincere.

I'm sure I blushed, and that was answer enough for him.

As we walked past the horse stalls, a few of the heads poked out to solicit a pet on the nose.

I obliged of course.

"I see you've become acquainted with the residents of this fine establishment." He handed one of the horses a piece of a carrot.

"I am." I waved a carrot back at him. "Seems like you can buy them off with a carrot."

"What about me?" he asked playfully. "What would it take to buy me off?"

I laughed. He was really interested. I wasn't sure where this was going. "I'm not prepared to answer that question." I said it more mysteriously than dismissively.