Page 121 of Kissing Kin
“Yes, the wedding’s in how many days?” Rosie caught my gaze. “Ten?”
Cody’s shoulders drooped as he congratulated me.
“Thanks.” Keep it short. “Good to run into you, Cody.” Uncomfortable, I whisked a smile. “But I hope you’ll excuse us. Ros…my Matron of Honor and I have wedding details to discuss.”
“Of course…” He stepped back as if I’d slapped him. “My AA sponsor is meeting me in a minute, anyway. Glad you found my favorite ramen shop. Be sure to try the Miso Ramen…and again, congratulations.” His smile bleak, he gave a stiff nod to us both before heading back to his booth.
AA sponsor…? I returned a curt nod. Of all the “gin joints” in town, why did Rosie pick this one?
“Who was that?”
“An old friend.” I shrugged.
“That’s all?” Rosie stared after him. “He didn’t seem overjoyed about your marriage.”
“No.” I gave an uneasy sigh. “Sorry I didn’t introduce you, but…” I bit my lip.
Rosie’s shrewd smile relayed her impression. “Because he’s more than just an old friend?”
****
When Rosie dropped me off at the cabin, I gathered my packages. “Come in for a cup of coffee.”
“Thanks, but I’d better get back to the café. Give Lucas my love.” She drove off with a smile and a wave.
Unlocking the cabin door, I glanced about. “Luke? Are you here?” When no one answered, I peeked at the bags’ contents and unwrapped the tulle from its layers of tissue paper. Then anchoring the veil’s comb to my hair, I admired my reflection in the bathroom mirror.
The screen door flapped shut, and the dog’s toenails pitter-pattered across the slate floors.
“Luke? Is that you?”
“Yeah.”
Eager to show him, I sashayed into the living room and twirled around, letting the veil swing out. “What do you think?”
His eyes glassy, he muttered. “Nice.”
“Nice?” I blinked. “That’s it?”
“Sorry.” His smile distracted, he seemed unfocused. “You’ll make a lovely bride.”
“Luke?” I reached my arms around him. “What’s wrong?”
He pulled a crumpled grape leaf from his pocket. “Pierce’s Disease.”
Fingering the dried leaf’s red edges, I recalled our first dinner conversation. “This was the bacteria that ruined your grandfather’s vineyard, wasn’t it?” I went cold. “Will we lose the vines?”
“Possibly…just like my grandfather.” He ran his hand over his face. “I was so smug—thought I had all the answers.”
“Can pesticides help?”
“California’s been experimenting with a neonicotinoid insecticide—”
“A what?”
“A nicotine-based pesticide.”
Marianna’s diary entry came to mind. “Didn’t your great-great-grandmother use nicotine to treat chicken lice?”