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Gretchen was tempted to add “tell me about it” to that statement but feared that would open the door to a conversation she didn’t want to have.
Edith continued with her story. “His parents dragged poor Manny all over the country for most of his childhood, until he put his foot down in ninth grade and begged to live with me. Manny, like me, is a homebody.”
“So he moved in with you?”
Edith nodded, smiling fondly. “Moved here when he was fourteen and never left, except to go to college. He never married either, but that’s because he’s completely hopeless when it comes to women. He has no game.”
Gretchen laughed, the sound cut short by shock. She honestly couldn’t recall the last time she’d laughed.
Edith worked as she talked, pulling the kettle off the stove when the whistle began to blow. Before ten minutes had passed, she’d made Gretchen a delicious egg salad sandwich, served with a dollop of macaroni salad on the side as well as a huge pickle, all accompanied with the promised chamomile tea.
Gretchen had to fight to eat slowly, her hunger too great and the food too damn good.
Edith poured herself a cup of tea and joined her at the table.
“You aren’t eating?” Gretchen asked.
“I had a nibble earlier.” Edith took a sip of her tea. “So you’re here because you’ll be working for the Storm family?”
“They hired me to be their event coordinator. I’ll admit, I was thrilled when Theo Storm emailed to tell me I got the job.” Gretchen didn’t bother to add that she’d applied for the job out of desperation, with zero expectation of getting it. For the better part of six months, she’d spent her entire lunch break at work filling out no less than a hundred job applications, tossing her hat in the ring for anything—most things she wasn’t even qualified for—in hopes that something would come along.
It helped that Brenda had written her one hell of a recommendation letter, which she’d given Gretchen carte blanche to change according to whatever job she was applying for, promising to give her a great reference if anyone called.
“The Storms are a wonderful family,” Edith said. “They’ve been growing grapes on the side of the mountain for three generations, their winery one of the most popular in the area. Theo’s oldest brother, Levi, has been the vineyard manager for years, but if the gossip is to be believed, that’ll be changing soon.”
“Oh?”
Edith leaned forward, clearly delighted to be doing her part to keep the rumor mill churning. “He’s fallen in love with a lovely local girl, Kasi Mills, who lost her mother, Katrina, at the beginning of this year. It was such a terrible loss for our community. Trina was a kind, giving woman, and Kasi is a lot like her. According to Levi’s mother, Claire, he’s hired someone to take over his role on the vineyard so that he can work with Kasi on her family farm. Claire expects we’ll hear wedding bells ringing before too long.”
Gretchen had gathered from her research that Gracemont was a small town, but she hadn’t anticipated the locals knowing so much about each other. She worried it might be hard to lay low in a place like this. “It sounds like there are a lot of farms around here.”
“There are indeed. You’re from Pennsylvania, right? That’s farm country as well, isn’t it?”
Gretchen nodded. “Oh, sure. There are lots of farms, but I lived in Harrisburg, which, while not exactly large, is more city than rural.”
“I suspect it will be a bit of a culture shock for you, moving to Gracemont. You’ll learn that life moves at a much slower pace around here.”
“That sounds very appealing to me,” Gretchen admitted.
“So when do you start work at Stormy Weather Farm?” Edith asked.
“My first official day is Monday, but I thought I might visit before then to introduce myself and take a look around.” And time the walk, now that she knew ridesharing wasn’t an option.
“I think you’ll be impressed. The view from that side of the mountain never fails to take my breath away, and I’ve lived here my whole life. On a clear day, you can see all the way to Washington, D.C.”
Gretchen’s eyes widened. “Really? I can’t wait to see it.”
“Now, I was thinking that Saturday night, we’d have a special meal, a Welcome to Gracemont dinner for you. I’ve already invited Manny to join us. What’s your favorite food?”
Gretchen didn’t know how to respond—because she couldn’t recall anyone ever asking her that. Her life hadn’t been overly full of nice people. She’d grown up in a rough house with an abusive stepfather and a milquetoast mother. The house parents at the residential home where she and Shaw lived after entering the foster care system had been nice enough, though they’d been harried and overworked most of the time.
So Gretchen couldn’t understand why Edith, a stranger, was rolling out the red carpet.
“I can’t let you go to all that trouble. You’re already doing so much by letting me stay in that beautiful room. You aren’t charging me enough,” Gretchen added, guilt forcing her to voice that concern.
Edith waved away her apprehensions. “I’m an eighty-two-year-old woman, rambling around in a big empty house. I have more money than I can ever spend before I die, and I enjoy the company of others. This place gets damn lonely with only Manny stopping in at the end of each day. While the boy is entertaining company, sometimes a person craves variety. After all these years, there’s not much Manny and I haven’t already talked about a dozen or so times. It’ll be nice to have someone else to tell my stories to, and to listen as they share their own.”
Gretchen smiled, even as her chest tightened. Unlike Manny and Edith, Gretchen’s stories weren’t the kind you shared over a nice dinner.