Brannigan's Baby

‘Dix’s still around?’

‘Oh, yes, she’s still around. And she runs the Best Day Care Center in Emerald. She’s had a couple of bad marriages, but apparently she’s good with children.’

‘Is she still as...?’ Straight-faced, Luke sketched a couple of voluptuous circles with his hands.

‘Why don’t you look her up, and you can find out for yourself!’

‘I may just do that. But I tell you one thing, I’ll not put Troy in day care. The kid stays with me.’

‘Well, that cuts down on your options. You really—’

He cut into her derisive response. ‘Let’s go for a walk.’

‘A walk? I don’t want to go for a walk! I have things to do.’

‘When I was hiking up the road from town yesterday, I had a look at the vineyards. I want to have a closer look. And maybe you can explain why—’

‘If you want to talk business, talk to Edmund Maxwell when he gets b—’

‘The Emerald Valley Vineyard used to be one of the most profitable in the Okanagan. Don’t try to tell me it still is. What we have here is a vineyard full of baco noir, verdelet, and Seyve-Villard—grapes my father planted sixteen years ago—grapes that have little cachet in today’s varietal-driven market. Dammit, my grandmother should have seen what was happening! She should have anticipated—’

‘Your grandmother had been failing for some time before her accident. She hired a temporary manager, but he didn’t work out, and after that, she let things slide—’

‘Didn’t you take any interest in the vineyards? After all, it was Brannigan money that brought you up and has given you the high standard of living you enjoy here—’

‘Now just a minute! When I was teaching, I contributed more than my fair share to the household expenses—’

‘—and it’ll be the interest from Brannigan capital that will in the future keep you in the luxury you’re—’

‘There is no Brannigan capital! Edmund Maxwell told me that yesterday, before he left. So you see, you have nothing to gain by standing in the way of my selling.’

‘My grandmother used the capital? You’ve been living off the capital? My God, I can’t believe—’

Whitney cringed from his burning anger and outrage. ‘So you see, there’s no option but to sell. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t afford to keep up this place.’

‘Da-da-da...’

The plaintive call for attention came from the kitchen.

‘Get a jacket.’ Mouth set grimly, Luke glowered down at her. ‘I want to take a closer look at what we’ve got. But I tell you now, you can forget about selling this place. It’s not going to happen.’

Brannigan House was situated at the end of the northern tip of the Naramata bench. The vineyards, perched on the valley’s steep slopes, with a south-western exposure, climbed above Emerald Lake. The neat rows striped the rolling hills like wales in heavy green corduroy.

Whitney had thrown on a parka over her T-shirt and jeans, but although Luke had dressed the baby cosily, and tucked the blue cap on his head, he himself wore no jacket.

Perhaps the carrier cut the breeze, at least on his back, Whitney reflected as they walked together down the road that cut diagonally across the planted vines.

‘You say you’ve had nothing to do with the vineyards.’ Luke didn’t look at her as he spoke.

‘Not because I wasn’t interested,’ she said steadily. ‘It’s just that with my fair skin, I can’t stay out too long in the sun, so working outside was never an option for me—’

‘Anyway, you were an academic.’ He broke in roughly. ‘Your nose was always stuck in one school text or another. Did you stay on at Penticton High?’

‘For a year, then your grandmother sent me to boarding school on Vancouver Island. After graduation, I went to UBC...and before you start sniping, I waitressed part-time and paid all my tuition fees myself—’

‘Ah. The University of British Columbia. So you...eventually...took my place...even there.’

‘Your place was always open to you, Luke, if you’d wanted it.’ She glanced a him, sideways, and saw that Troy had grabbed two handfuls of his father’s sun-bleached blond hair and was enjoying a tug of war.

‘Then what?’ Luke asked. ‘After UBC...’

‘I took a year off to travel in Europe. And when I came home I got a job teaching English at Penticton High.’

‘When do you go back?’

‘I won’t be going back.’

He glanced at her, his expression cynical. ‘So you gave up your job in expectations of inheriting the Emerald Valley Vineyards? You thought you’d be a lady of leisure.’

‘I gave up my job a year ago in order to look after your grandmother—’

‘Didn’t they keep your position open for you?’

‘Are you completely out of touch with what’s been going on in this province? Of course they didn’t keep it open. When I left, they had dozens of applicants for the post.’

‘So...you and I are in the same situation. No job, no prospects...but at least we have a roof over our heads.’ Veering off the road, he started walking downhill, between the vines, and didn’t resume their conversation.

Which suited Whitney just fine.

She followed him, pausing behind him when, from time to time, he stopped to inspect a vine, tug out a weed, pick some dry soil and let it run through his fingers, or examine a sagging overhead trellis.

On one such occasion, Troy threw back his head, and looked at Whitney upside down.

She smiled at him. What a little love he was! She made a soft coo-coo sound, for his ears alone, and he smiled back, charming her, and then he focused his attention once again on his father’s hair.

After about ten minutes, Luke turned, so abruptly that Whitney almost walked into him.

‘Let’s go back,’ he said. ‘I’ve seen enough.’

‘I’m going to walk on down to the lake.’ At least that way she would have some time on her own to think.

Troy gave a wide yawn.

‘The baby should be in bed,’ she went on quickly, afraid Luke might say he’d come with her. ‘Do you need more blankets? You’ll find some in the airing cupboard—it’s upstairs, next to the—’

‘I don’t need a map to find my way around Brannigan House, Whitney.’ His tone was harsh. ‘I was born here. I know every nook and cranny, every cupboard, every—’

‘Point taken. Only you don’t need to be so nasty about it! You may have been born here... but I never asked to live here. At twelve years of age, I was given no choice in the matter. And—’ her eyes sparked ‘—if I’d had a choice, this is the last place on earth I’d have chosen. You were the cruelest person I’d ever met, so wrapped up in your own jealousies and insecurities you never gave one thought to—’