The Vineyard by Barbara Delinsky

now.”
    Delighted to be of use so soon, Olivia crossed to the phone. In an upbeat voice, she said, “This is Olivia Jones. I’m Mrs. Seebring’s new assistant. I’m afraid that she can’t take the phone—”
    â€œAssistant?” an upset voice cut in. “What kind of assistant? And why
can’t
she take the phone? I’m her daughter. I only want a minute.”
    Olivia looked at Natalie, who held up her hands, shook her head, took a step back.
    â€œI believe she’s outside,” Olivia said into the phone. “Can she call you back?”
    â€œOf course she can. The question is whether she will. She’s avoiding my calls. Olivia Jones, you say?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWhen did you start working for my mother?”
    â€œThis is actually my first day.”
    â€œDo you know what’s going on?”
    â€œUh, I’m not sure that I know what you mean.”
    â€œThe wedding.”
    â€œYes. I know about that.”
    There was a pause, then a beseeching, “She needs to rethink this. It isn’t right. My father’s been dead barely six months.”
    Olivia didn’t know what to say to that. She was a newcomer. She was an outsider. “I think you ought to talk with your mother about this.”
    â€œThat’s easier said than done. This is a woman who couldn’t tell her own daughter that she was remarrying. She knows that what she’s doing is wrong. It’s an embarrassment.”
    From the far side of the room, Natalie said, “She can’t acceptthat I have a heart that beats, and beats hard. I’m supposed to be old and dried up.”
    Olivia hadn’t covered the mouthpiece quite fast enough.
    â€œI heard that,” Susanne charged. “She’s standing right there, but she’s too cowardly to take my calls. She knows that she shouldn’t be doing this, not after everything my father did. He built that vineyard. She wouldn’t be there today if it weren’t for him. Look, will you give her a message?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œTell her that her family isn’t going to that wedding. My brother and I are sick about this. She was supposed to have loved her husband.” There was a tiny pause. “What did you say she hired you for?”
    â€œI’m helping out in the office.”
    â€œOh dear. Someone else left? They’re dropping like flies. They don’t like what she’s doing either. Are you another one of her strays?”
    Olivia was mildly offended. “Excuse me?”
    â€œShe takes them in, you know. Some work out. Marie has been there forever. Others are one-week wonders. She goes by gut instinct. Did she tell you that?”
    â€œYes. But I’m not a stray. I’ve spent the last five years doing photo restoration work under Otis Thurman. I left his office to come here.”
    â€œThat’s very nice, but I’d like you to listen for just a minute. Please don’t speak. Just listen. We’re worried that Natalie is either fading mentally or that she’s being brainwashed by Carl. We don’t know how else to explain this marriage. So I ask you—beg you—to keep an eye on her. If you sense that either of those things is happening, will you call me?”
    Olivia’s loyalties instinctively lay with Natalie, but she wasn’t getting into a fight with Susanne. “I’ll try,” she said.
    â€œThank you. I appreciate that. Please tell my mother that I’ll call again next week. Oh, and welcome to Asquonset.”
    Olivia hung up the phone and turned to Natalie.
    The older woman looked sheepish. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’ve dragged you into the middle of my hornet’s nest.”
    Olivia wasn’t sorry in the least. Barely five minutes there and she felt part of the household. “She sounded upset.”
    â€œShe is. She doesn’t understand.”
    â€œBut if you’ve