Moonlight and Merlot
The continuing saga of the lives, loves and heartbreaks of the residents of Dion Valley, CA.
As with all the best things in life, this is for adults only.
“We have to talk,” Blake Westerbrooke said, and Zach couldn’t help but sigh. His father stood fully dressed in the middle of the livening room holding his trademark tumbler of whiskey even though it was barely nine a.m.
Zach looked longingly out the picture window at the acres of prime, fertile soil, the neat rows of grapes, the Valley beyond. He did not want to deal with his father today—ever really truth be told—but there was little he could do other than take the seat that Blake indicated with a wave of his glass.
His father looked him over as Zach sat and waited for whatever monologue his father had in mind to begin. One didn’t have conversations with Blake Westerbrooke, proprietor of one of the oldest and largest vineyards in Northern California. One listened silently and accepted whatever commands were doled out. Zach had learned this lesson well long ago. He glanced once again out the window, at the beautiful day, and sighed. There was no escape.
“You did something last night,” his father said. It was not a question, simply a statement of fact, and Zach wondered how his father could possibly know about the spell in the woods. There was no doubt in Zach’s mind that that was exactly what Blake was referring to. He remained quiet, as a dutiful son should, and waited to see where this was all going.
“You have to undo it,” Blake said. Zach waited for him to go one, but that appeared to be the end of Blake had to say. He gave Zach a single, long look and then moved to leave the room.
“Wait,” Zach said, getting to his feet. “What do you mean?”
His father looked at him as though he thought his son was perhaps mildly brain-damaged. “I mean just what I’ve said, Zach. You must undo whatever you did last night.”
“That’s it?” Zach asked, confused, incredulous, annoyed. “Just undo it?”
“Yes,” his father said and then left him alone in the living room.
[Until next Tuesday…]