I laughed. “Good thing.”

My former room had been painted and re-carpeted since I’d moved out, but my mahogany double bed and dresser was the same, and my desk still sat between two windows overlooking the vineyard and woods beyond it. I’d spent a lot of hours there. “I’ve missed that view,” I said, setting my shoulder bag on the desk and raising the balloon shade up all the way. “I can’t wait to take a run out back.”

“What are your plans for today?” my dad asked. Like my mom, he wore a green Cloverleigh shirt and khaki pants. Unlike my mom, he was entirely gray and paunchy through the middle, and I knew he’d had some heart and blood pressure problems over the last few years. His emails to me were always full of complaints about how my mother was taking all the good things out of his diet. But even though he’d aged since I’d seem him last, he seemed in good spirits.

“Help out around here, wherever I’m needed,” I said, giving him another impromptu hug. “I’m so glad to be home, Daddy.”

“But you’re on vacation! You don’t want to spend your time working.” His eyes lit up. “Let’s go see Frannie at her pastry shop.”

I laughed. “Is that going to be okay with Mom? Will we have time?”

“There’s always time for pastries,” my dad confirmed, rubbing his tummy. “Let’s go.”

My mother said she could do without me, so my dad and I drove into the city to see Frannie. Her shop was adorable, and she was so excited to see me that she practically vaulted over the counter.

Frannie had always been cute, but today she looked absolutely radiant as she chattered on about the wedding and showed off her sparkling engagement ring. Her fiancé, Mack, a single dad and CFO at Cloverleigh Farms, was at home with his two younger daughters, but the oldest was there working at the shop.

“Meg, have you ever met Mack’s daughter Millie?” Frannie asked as the pretty preteen blonde waved at me from behind the register.

“Yes, but she was a lot younger then.” I smiled and waved back. “Good to see you, Millie.”

“Will you be around later?” Frannie asked. “I’d love to hang out and catch up.”

“Definitely.” Impulsively, I hugged her again. “I’m so happy for you, Frannie. And so proud—this place is beautiful.”

“Want a tour?” she asked, a little nervously. “I don’t want to keep you, but—

“Of course I do!”

She beamed. “I’ll make it quick.”

After she showed me around, my dad and I had a quick lunch at the counter and then headed back to Cloverleigh. April was there by then, and we had a tearful reunion in the middle of the lobby at the inn. She was crazy busy with the wedding that was taking place that evening, but she said she’d be done by eleven if I was up for a late drink in the bar.

“Sounds great,” I said. “I’ll text Frannie to come too.”

I spent most of the day in the tasting room assisting Chloe, who was short-handed and totally thankful for the help, even though I knew next to nothing about Cloverleigh’s wines. But Chloe was an excellent teacher, showing me how to pour, giving me basic info about each bottle to share with customers, and reassuring me that most people wouldn’t ask very complicated questions—they just wanted to find something they liked.

We were so slammed we didn’t really get a chance to chat, but she said she’d definitely be up for the late night meetup at the bar. “Oliver is in Detroit until Friday, so I’m free all week,” she said, setting out new glasses on the counter for my next group of tasters, who were just coming in from a tour.

I smiled, shaking my head. “I still can’t believe you’re engaged to Oliver. You couldn’t stand him growing up!”

She laughed. “Sometimes we can’t believe it either. But you know what they say about the line between love and hate.” Bringing a hand to her face, she whispered behind it. “Plus the sex is insane.”

“Don’t tell me. I’m way too jealous.”

“I take it things aren’t going well with Brooks?” she asked hesitantly.

“Things are over with Brooks.” I sighed and put on a smile as several middle-aged couples came in and took the seats across from me. “I’ll tell you about it tonight.”

I had dinner with my parents at their kitchen table, basking in the familiarity of my mother’s cooking as well as the surroundings. My dad told me about all his plans for retirement, which would begin right after Frannie’s wedding. “Golf, golf, and more golf,” he said.

I laughed. “What about during the winter?”

“Golf in Florida. Your mother and I are considering buying a place down there.”

“Really?” I looked back and forth between them. “You’d leave Cloverleigh for that long?”

“Chloe’s got an excellent handle on things here, and Mack has assured me he intends to stay on as CFO.” My dad put some butter on his roll under the watchful eye of my mother. “I have confidence they can run things as well as we could—maybe even better.”

Later, as Chloe poured four glasses of Pinot Noir at a high top table at Cloverleigh’s bar, I congratulated her. “So you’re going to inherit the farm, huh?”

She laughed. “Not the whole farm. Just the title of CEO.”

“Well, that’s still awesome. You’ve worked really hard here, and Mom and Dad can see it. I didn’t think Dad would ever retire. He really trusts you.”

My sister’s cheeks flushed, and her brown eyes shone. Although we didn’t exactly look alike, we shared our mother’s wavy brown hair, our dad’s tenacity, and a tendency to go all in when we truly wanted something. “Thanks,” she said. “I have worked hard.”

“Hey, guys. Sorry I’m late.” Frannie breezed up, slipped off her coat, and took the stool between Chloe and me. “I couldn’t get out of the house.”

“Why was that, sis?” Chloe asked, her voice dripping with feigned innocence.

Frannie giggled and blushed, gathering her long hair over one shoulder. “Well, Mack can’t ever get enough. And we have to wait until all the kids are asleep.”

“You were having sex?” I asked, my mouth hanging open.

“Shhh!” Flapping her hands, Frannie looked around. “Someone might hear.”

“Someone definitely heard,” said April, coming up behind me and sliding onto the stool to my left. She picked up one of the wine glasses. “God, I need this. Not only was I dealing with a bridezilla tonight, but my baby sisters are all having sex and I’m not.”

“I’m not either,” I assured her, picking up a glass for myself.

Chloe lifted her glass and tapped it to Frannie’s. “Cheers,” she whispered.

“No, let’s toast to all of us,” Frannie insisted.

“I was gonna get there,” said Chloe indignantly as she sat down across from me. She raised her glass higher. “To the Sawyer sisters!”

“To the Sawyer sisters!” we chorused.

“I feel bad Sylvia’s not here,” said Frannie after taking a sip.