A Taste of Honeybear Wine
“Alison Meadows had a dream and her dream was on fire.
“Are you there? You just sort of stopped talking?” The voice on the phone was her sister, Chloe. Young, bright, studying dance at Berkeley and with the annoying habit of phrasing everything like a question.
Alison stood at the entrance of the house she’d inherited. It’d been a two-hour drive to get to Bearfield, to see the home that once belonged to her grandfather. In the pictures, it was a majestic Victorian farmhouse with three stately ...stories and a pole barn looming behind it. The reality was much grubbier.
“Oh Chloe,” she said. “It’s a wreck. Half the windows are missing. The yard is just a tangle of weeds and pricker bushes. The barn is literally a pile of rotting timber and the house is well on its way. How the hell am I going to turn this into a bed & breakfast?”
“A bed and brew-fest? A brew and bedfest?” Chloe asked, her voice a distant drawl on the phone. “What did you call it?”
“A disaster, that’s what I’m calling it. Look, I’ll call you back later. I need to like cry for an hour and then firebomb the spiders out of this place.”
First Drew dumped her, and now this. Alison wasn’t sure her luck could get any worse, but she sure didn’t want to see the universe test that theory. Tears burned her eyes, threatening like a storm on the horizon, but she held them back. Alison had a job to do—one task for her mother—before the house was officially hers. And anyway, she’d cried enough over Drew’s cheating heart. He didn’t deserve more tears.MoreLess
“Are you there? You just sort of stopped talking?” The voice on the phone was her sister, Chloe. Young, bright, studying dance at Berkeley and with the annoying habit of phrasing everything like a question.
Alison stood at the entrance of the house she’d inherited. It’d been a two-hour drive to get to Bearfield, to see the home that once belonged to her grandfather. In the pictures, it was a majestic Victorian farmhouse with three stately ...stories and a pole barn looming behind it. The reality was much grubbier.
“Oh Chloe,” she said. “It’s a wreck. Half the windows are missing. The yard is just a tangle of weeds and pricker bushes. The barn is literally a pile of rotting timber and the house is well on its way. How the hell am I going to turn this into a bed & breakfast?”
“A bed and brew-fest? A brew and bedfest?” Chloe asked, her voice a distant drawl on the phone. “What did you call it?”
“A disaster, that’s what I’m calling it. Look, I’ll call you back later. I need to like cry for an hour and then firebomb the spiders out of this place.”
First Drew dumped her, and now this. Alison wasn’t sure her luck could get any worse, but she sure didn’t want to see the universe test that theory. Tears burned her eyes, threatening like a storm on the horizon, but she held them back. Alison had a job to do—one task for her mother—before the house was officially hers. And anyway, she’d cried enough over Drew’s cheating heart. He didn’t deserve more tears.MoreLess
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