Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Everyone calls goodbye as Sylvie heads toward the kitchen, intent on letting Renault out one last time before they’ll trudge up the back staircase to the second floor.
Abby turns to me when Sylvie is gone and smiles. “She’s like the most perfect thing ever.”
“Yeah… I know.”
Abby’s eyes cut to Marcie and then back to me with a grin. “Lots of big changes in your life. Never thought the grumpy, fuddy-duddy would be so… so…”
“Cool?” Kellen offers.
Abby gives her husband the side-eye before looking at me. “I was going to say evolved.”
I shrug as if it’s no big deal but Marcie elbows me in the ribs. “You were a fuddy-duddy?”
“No, I was not a fuddy-duddy,” I reply haughtily. “But I might have been a little too serious at times.”
“A little?” Trey exclaims. “Try a lot.”
“Pack it in, you two,” my mom says, quelling her brood before we start yelling at each other. But it’s all in good fun.
“Seriously, though,” Abby says, her voice lowering slightly. “How are things going with the Mardraggons?”
Abby may live in Pennsylvania, but she’s been kept in the loop. We have a family group chat and while she may not have been here witnessing the progression of everything, she knows enough.
“It’s a pain in the ass to have to deal with them, but things seem to have settled. Now if I could only get Gabe to stop throwing business ideas regarding the winery at me, it would all be good.”
“He wants to grow it?” Kellen asks.
“Yeah, because a winery that grosses over thirty million a year is a complete failure,” Trey says sarcastically.
“Thirty million?” Abby asks, her mouth gaping.
I nod. “According to the financial records he provided me. And Sylvie gets eighty percent of the net profit.”
“That’s got to absolutely kill Lionel,” Wade muses. “Mardraggon money going to a Blackburn.”
Kat snorts in disdain. “Makes the fifteen million Gabe offered you a pittance. That guy’s a complete douche.”
“Language,” my mom warns Kat who doesn’t look repentant at all.
“I made clear I’m not selling out to them.” I remove my arm from around Marcie’s shoulders, take her hand and rise from the couch, pulling her up. “That winery is Sylvie’s legacy and if she wants to return there when she’s an adult to run it, it will be there for her.” I look down at my parents, then around the room. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, I need to make a trip down to the broodmare barn to check on the foals.”
Everyone smiles and nods in understanding.
My return smile is sly. “And for those of you who can’t read between the lines, I want to take my girl somewhere private so we can make out for a bit.”
Abby’s mouth falls open again and Kellen barks a laugh. My mom makes a clucking sound and Marcie slaps me in the stomach.
I wink down at her. “How’s that for fuddy-duddy?”
CHAPTER 22
Marcie
My lunch hour isn’t a time when I can take a break from the pressures of being a principal, but I do try to use it as a time to slow down a bit. For me, that means cleaning out some emails and doing other light administrative stuff while I eat at my desk. I put on soft music, turn my overhead lights off and use only a desk lamp and the light of the window to see by. I sometimes actually manage to settle myself down.
I’m halfway through a Greek salad when there’s a knock on my door. I turn the music down from my iPhone. “Come in.”
To my surprise—and delight—Sylvie pops her head in. During the school day, I rarely see her unless we happen to pass in the halls. This week, like last, I ate dinner with her and Ethan a few times, and one night Michelle and I took her and Carmen out for Mexican food as Ethan had a breeder’s association meeting to go to.
I’m not sure what it means that it’s starting to feel that the handful of nights I see her each week are not enough. Just like the limited time I get with Ethan isn’t enough. I love that we can schedule dinners and sometimes a lunch, but overnight stays aren’t practical with Sylvie in the house.
Ethan actually brought it up when we were talking on the phone last night and wanted to know my thoughts. I didn’t have a good answer for him because while you have to balance age-appropriate subject matter with a child’s individualized maturity, we also want to make sure Sylvie feels absolutely secure with the Blackburns. By all accounts, she has assimilated and seems to be happy. She’s far more adjusted to the circumstances than I had initially thought possible, but then again, the Blackburns are a pretty amazing family. It’s hard to withstand their charm.
“What’s up?” I ask, waving her in.