Page 49

MAKAYLA

“ S o, do you think we can stop them with an organic pesticide?” I ask Janet, twirling my two-year-old in my arms.

Motherhood is nonstop multitasking—equal parts daunting and wonderful. The winery demands long hours, but raising our little angel still comes first—and, thankfully, I’m never alone.

“Absolutely,” Janet says. “No need for the commercial stuff yet. That stays our last resort. You wanted organic wine, Mac, and I’m determined to keep it that way—soil to bottle. Like I said, there are only a few leaves affected. We can nip this in the bud, and it won’t touch our product line.”

“Thank goodness for that,” I reply.

“Mommy! Mommy!” Laney says.

“What, sweetheart?” I croon.

“Down!”

Laney already has her basic commands down, and she makes me laugh every time she issues one. I set her down and she bolts across the field. She’s still small enough to scoop up, so I let her wiggle for a minute.

“It’s a lot of ground,” Janet says with a chuckle. “She’ll tire out quickly.”

“She hasn’t made it to the neighbor’s fence yet, so we’re good,” I tease.

Kellan comes up behind me. “Don’t worry, baby,” he whispers in my ear as he wraps his arms around my waist. “I’ve got one eye on the little munchkin, always.”

“Good. Because she’s a bolter,” I warn him.

Weekends when all of us stay home are rare. No one has to work in the city or crash at the apartment tonight. The vineyard pests add an unwelcome layer of tension, but I know challenges will pop up. I prepare for failure, too, though I don’t see it anywhere on the horizon.

“Oh, look at that, she’s coming back,” Janet notes with genuine surprise.

Sure enough, Laney sprints back, cheering and giggling, a dandelion held high while its fluff drifts behind her. “Mommy, look!”

“Incoming,” Janet says, and I follow her gaze toward the farmhouse, mere yards to our left.

A car rolls in—one of our best customers. He runs a restaurant one town over and features all our wines on his menu. In my book, he’s a good man with a heart of gold.

“Kellan?” Jack calls as he climbs out of the driver’s seat and spots my husband—well, one of them, though Jack has no idea about our civil union.

“That’s right,” Kellan says, pleased that someone got it right. “How did you know?”

“The hair,” our customer responds. “Yours is slightly longer than your brothers’.”

Legally, I’m only married to Kellan. They drew straws before we went into city hall to get our marriage license. But in our little corner of paradise, I’m married to the Anderson brothers, and only a select few in our close circle know. The fewer eyes on us, the better, we decided a while back.

“Plus, you’re the one holding your wife,” Jack laughs lightly. “Dead giveaway, right there.”

“Lucky us,” Kellan says under his breath, though his smile never falters.

“Welcome, Jack. Glad you could make it!” I cut in, eager to entertain. Jack isn’t in our inner circle, and I doubt he’d grasp our poly life, but he’s a loyal client and a generous soul, so I make sure he always feels welcome. “Let me show you our latest crop,” I say, gesturing toward the vineyard.

Laney takes Kellan by the hand and demands that he play. Janet and I stroll beside him, explaining the varieties we grow and how they blend into each vintage.

By the time we return to the house, Alex and Oscar are there.

“It’s looking great,” Jack decrees at the end of the tour. “I’d like to reserve twelve cases of your Cabernet, if possible. Those grapes looked beautiful back there…”

“They’re our heartiest vines, I’ll give them that,” I say with a warm smile.

“You’ve got really good dirt to work with, too,” he replies, nodding in agreement. “I’m glad I get to see the crop before it hits the bottle. It really helps me sell the wine to our customers, to be honest.”

Janet smiles. “You give them the full story, huh?”

“Oh, yes. It needs to be an experience, a journey for them to follow before I even open the bottle and pour the first glass. It’s what keeps them coming to my restaurant. My wife calls it… the art of waffling.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Well, I’m glad we can put you down for next year’s labels, then. You do us a great honor, Jack.”

“It’s my pleasure to support our young Napa Valley winemakers, Mrs.Anderson.”

We bid Jack farewell and watch him drive back to the gate, the sun gleaming above in all its golden glory.

It’s almost noon and I’m ready to have some lunch. Turning around, I see my three husbands coming out on the porch with our daughter. Laney runs up to hug me, bouncing between all of her parents like a ping pong ball. I swear, she’s blossoming under the care and love of her three amazing fathers.

“Ah, look at that, one goes out, another one comes in,” Janet notes.

Indeed, another car is already scooting up the driveway.

It’s Bryan’s Mercedes, straight from the city.

It always looks out of place here in the country.

My guys traded their road-friendly luxury cars for practical rides.

Kellan and Alex both own trucks, while Oscar opted for an SUV.

We take the SUV whenever we head into town.

Like the guys have said since day one—we make it work.

“Just in time, too,” I exclaim.

I have to scoop Laney up from the ground to make sure she doesn’t totter over before Bryan’s finished parking. She squirms in my arms, reaching out because she knows who is coming.

“Byby!” Laney calls out with the purest, sweetest joy.

The car eases to the very end of the driveway, just a few feet from where we stand. As soon as Bryan and Callie get out, I set Laney down so that she can run to greet her uncle. He picks her up and spins her around, throwing her on his shoulders before coming over to greet us.

“Glad you brought an overnight bag this time,” I tell my brother as Alex and Kellan rush to the trunk to help Callie with the luggage.

“Well, it was a shame not to, given the conversion you made downstairs,” Bryan replies. “Now, my wife and I get to enjoy coffee on your porch.”

“Not just dinner,” Callie quips. “We’re basically weekend freeloaders, now.”

We’re all laughing, but Bryan shakes his head. “No, ma’am. We brought pie from one of your favorite bakeries in the city. We did not come here empty handed.”

“Nor would we mind if you did,” Oscar says. “You’re always welcome, always wanted, pie or not.”

“But pie is always a welcome bonus,” Alex adds.

We even add an extension out back for extra bedrooms—one for Laney and future siblings. Downstairs, we expanded the kitchen and living room to give everyone room to breathe. Bryan and Callie can just draw the door shut on the old living room and have a tiny suite all to themselves.

“How was your drive up?” I ask.

“It was fine,” she says, “the seat was a little bit uncomfortable, more so than usual. I’m having some pain in my lower back.”

“Did you do anything to hurt yourself?” I wonder, looking at my friend with a sharper eye. There’s a glow about Callie, a glow I recognize, but I keep my mouth shut, just in case she hasn’t broken the news to my brother yet.

“No, nothing like that,” she insists.

We share a moment where I think she’s telling me that my suspicions are correct, but nobody says anything. On the inside, however, I am already giddy.

“ H ow is your sister?” I ask about halfway through dinner.

Bryan almost chokes on his spaghetti, prompting a dry chuckle out of Kellan. “Kay, come on,” my brother jokingly berates me. “Sensitive topic.”

“Sorry, Callie,” I say, half-smiling.

“No, no, it’s okay, and I think we need to always be open about everything in this family,” she says, then gently stops Oscar from pouring wine into her glass. “None for me, thank you.”

“It’s one of Kay’s,” Oscar replies.

“Not tonight,” Callie politely insists.

My husbands have yet to catch on, but I’ve been picking up on a few more signs that my suspicions are, in fact, correct. Fortunately, making sure Laney eats all her food keeps me busy enough to not fuss about containing my excitement at soon becoming an aunt.

“So… Melanie,” Callie sighs deeply. “We’re not in contact anymore.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I say, lowering my gaze.

“I’m not,” Janet scoffs.

Bryan can’t help but agree. “Right with you there, Jan.”

“That bad, huh?” Alex asks, looking at Callie.

“Honestly, I was ready to forgive all the nasty stuff she did,” Bryan’s soft-spoken wife says. “But when she made a move on my husband… after everything that happened?—”

“Oh, right, I heard about that. Yuck,” I exclaim.

“Yuck!” Laney mimics me, about to turn her bowl over.

I stop her just in time, making sure she keeps eating. “No, honey, this isn’t yuck, this is really good and tasty…”

“Tasty…”

Callie giggles. “Yes, so… that’s that with Melanie. I cut her off completely. I’m pretty sure our parents haven’t spoken to her in a while, either. It hurt me deeply, but we’re better off without her in our lives.”

She went through a rough time after Melanie’s lies came out. It really devastated her to realize that her sister wasn’t a good person. The whole thing with Bryan was the last straw in what must have been a very heavy burden over the years.

“Are you sure you don’t want any wine?” Alex grumbles. “Just hearing your sister’s name makes me want to down a whole bottle…”

“Hey, the past is in the past,” Oscar politely reminds him.

“Hold on,” Janet says, drawing focus back to Callie. “You love our reds the most. What gives?”

Callie sighs deeply, then looks at Bryan, reaching for his hand as she exclaims, “We’re pregnant!”

I look at Laney first, clapping my hands. “Yay! Laney! You’re going to be a big cousin.”

Laney looks up, not understanding but enjoying the attention nonetheless.

“Congratulations to the both of you!” Oscar says. “And if you want, we’ve got lots of barely used baby stuff to give you. They grow up so fast…”

Kellan’s eyes light up. “That’s right—the crib, the rocker for late-night feedings?—”

“Hang on!” I object. “Are we really drawing a line at Laney, here?”

My husbands look at me, love and enthusiasm sparkling in their brown eyes, but they don’t have a comeback for this. They’re understandably speechless, yet I know they’re seeing the logic behind my argument.

“My sister is right,” Bryan decrees. “We’ll get new stuff for ours.”

“In fact, you’ll probably need it for your own if you do decide to make your family bigger,” Callie chimes in. “With a triplet incidence in the Anderson family, there’s a high chance you’ll be blessed with at least a couple of twins down the road.”

“Oh, God, I didn’t consider that,” I gasp.

Oscar gives me a gentle nudge. “You can always say no.”

“We’ve got room here aplenty,” I tell him.

And just like that, a quiet agreement is made. Soon enough, I think we’ll have the pleasure of promoting our darling Laney to Big Sister. Which is wonderful, because the only way from where we are is up. Up and happier than ever.