Nico fell into step behind her, hooking his finger in the back pocket of her jeans and leaning down to whisper, “You look great.”
“What was that?” Toni half yelled. “Nico, did you say something?”
“Keep going and I’m gonna tell Aunt Rose you and Henry were talking about a wedding at the winery.”
“Fuck you,” Toni said. “You better not, mush-head.”
Megan glanced at Henry. “Are they always this mature?”
“Mush-head is actually one of the milder terms of endearment the cousins have for each other,” Henry said. “Val, do you come from a big family?”
“No, but this is hilarious.” Val was smiling. “So this person we’re going to meet, it’s another one of their cousins?”
“Yeah,” Henry said. “But Kellan…” He made a face.
“Kellan is our cousin, but he’s kind of a slacker,” Toni said. “He did really well revamping his mom’s restaurant, but since then he thinks he’s some wine and food guru.”
The old house that served as Coral Canyon’s tasting room was a traditional two-story Victorian with a wide porch and an extensive rose garden nestled against the backdrop of a granite outcropping in the hollow between two hills.
There were several other parties milling around the house or enjoying bottles of wine at the redwood picnic tables. They walked up the short set of stairs, and Megan saw Kellan behind the bar. His eyes went wide when he saw the group entering.
“Hey!” The man was probably five or six years younger than Toni, and his hair was slicked back in a way that Megan had though lost fashion in the midnineties. “What’s the Dusi Heritage crew doing in my tasting room?”
Megan glanced at Kellan’s coworkers when he said “my tasting room” and saw several side-eyes.
“Hey!” Toni waddled to the bar. “Where’s the bathroom?”
Kellan looked confused. “Are you here to taste—?”
“For the love of sweet baby Jesus, Kellan” —Toni was not playing— “tell me where the toilet is.”
“Down the hall on the left.”
He looked confused, so Megan stepped up to the bar. The Dusis had no idea how to get flies, so Megan laid on the honey.
“Hey, Kellan.” She slid onto a barstool. “Have we met yet? I’m Megan Alston, the events coordinator at Nico’s place.”
Kellan half smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I think I’ve seen you at Aunt Rose’s a couple of times.”
“I keep meaning to introduce myself, and there never seems to be the opportunity!” She turned on her biggest smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
He leaned on the bar. “Really?”
“Oh yeah. I understand the whole redesign of Gina’s restaurant was all you?”
Kellan was warming up to her. “Yeah. That was all my idea.” He looked at Val. “Can I get you ladies a wine tasting?”
“I’d love one.” Val sat next to Megan and leaned toward Kellan. “I love a big juicy red wine. Do you have any of those?”
Kellan smiled. “We’re pouring five wines today, and I promise at least two of them are big juicy reds.”
“That’s great.”
Megan noticed Val had taken off her gloves as she sat, and she reached out to play with the stems of the wineglasses Kellan began setting out.
Kellan looked at Sully, Henry, and Nico standing behind them. “You gentlemen like a tasting too?”
Henry and Nico both looked at Sully.
“Uh, yeah.” He played along. “I’d love one.”
Nico walked up to the bar. “Kellan, is Jodie here? I actually had a question for her.”
“Yeah, she’s in her office.” Kellan looked a little nervous, but he nodded toward the hallway where Toni had disappeared.
Megan was guessing Jodie was the owner of Coral Canyon. It would have been odd for Henry and Nico to be buying a wine tasting at a neighbor’s winery, but ushering friends there was far from uncommon.
As Kellan chatted with her and Val about the wines they were drinking, Megan carefully observed the winery itself, taking note of the pictures of the vineyards and the wines in their catalog. She wasn’t seeing anything particularly unique or trendsetting at Coral Canyon. They were solid, well-produced wines with good legs served in a perfectly friendly and bright tasting room.
Coral Canyon was the kind of place you’d take your mom for the weekend mother/daughter tasting and brunch she saw advertised on the announcement board. It was the place to have a picnic. She saw dogs running around outside and heard children yelling for their mom.
Toni came back and lifted herself into a seat. “Kellan, do you have a ginger ale?”
He smiled softly at her and winked. “I got you, coz. What’s Nico doing here? Really?”
“No secret agenda, I promise. Sully and Val are visiting from Glimmer Lake and wanted a look around the area.”
“Oh my God,” Kellan said. “I love that place in winter.”
Val asked, “Big skier?”
“I’m not a pro or anything, but me and my buddies usually take at least one weekend and go for a few days. It’s a good time.”
“We’re here visiting these gals,” Val said. “And we asked them to recommend a few places to get some wine. Yours was at the top of the list.”
Kellan looked at Toni. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” She put both her hands on the bar. “Feel free to repay me by grabbing a ginger ale or Sprite. Glass, please, no ice.”
“Right! I’m sorry.” He motioned to one of the other servers. “Hey, Erin, can you grab a ginger ale from the back?”
Erin looked at Kellan, then at Toni. “Oh sure. Give me a sec.”
The girl disappeared into the back, and Kellan poured their second wine. “This is a little bit of a heavier chardonnay. The first wine, the Coral Canyon house white, was light and crisp. You’d maybe get a little citrus from that one. This one is going to have a lot more body. You’ll taste some of those buttery, oaky flavors Central Coast chardonnays are known for.”
Val glanced at Megan. “Where are chardonnay grapes from originally?”
“Good question,” Kellan said. “They are a French vine. Most of our vines are French at Coral Canyon.”
Val leaned her chin on her palm. “Like from France? How does that work? Do you import them?”
Kellan laughed a little, but he seemed happy to inform a newbie. “Definitely not. These are California varieties we have here, even though originally the vine came from France. It’s an extremely complicated process to import grapevines from overseas.”
“Is it really?” Sully piped up. “What all do you have to do?”
“There are really only two places in the US where you can import grapevines, and they go through a two- to three-year process to make sure there are no viruses or pests that could be imported into our local wineries. They take safety very seriously.”
“What about getting grapes from within California? Or another state?” Megan asked. “Is that a faster process?”
“Oh yeah, especially if it’s on the West Coast. Washington, Oregon, California. That would go a lot faster.” He looked at them. “So how do you like the chardonnay?”