“Are you all right, Gavin?” Ivy asks me.
I snap out of my toxic thoughts. “I am. Why?”
“It’s a green light,” she says, looking at me wide-eyed.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I hit the gas before the driver behind me gets mad.
Chapter 5
Ivy
I stand next to Gavin at the airport, waiting for the arrival of Mr. Paul Bernard, the French investor, and his assistant.
I’m nervous. I keep thinking about the French phrases, although Gavin tells me not to worry. I’m not hoping to impress anyone. I just don’t want to let him down.
We spoke to each other most of our way to the airport. Gavin asked me about my college life and also taught me some useful business skills.
I thought he had become a farmer for the past ten years, but he was much more than that. He had to learn about growing and selling grapes and how to manage other aspects of the business, such as the tasting room and tourism. The vineyard was not just a farm, but also a tourist attraction that receives hundreds of visitors each day during peak seasons.
When I asked Gavin why he had to pick up the visitors in person instead of scheduling a pickup service, he said it would make the visitors feel more welcome. I’m impressed by his thoughtfulness because he doesn’t have to do it. From what he said the other day, he was confident he would easily sell the vineyard. He’s also going to give the visitors a tour of the city before taking them to Napa because it’s the first time they come to SF.
Gavin already met with Paul on Skype, so he spots him as soon as a group of passengers stride out of the arrival gate. “I think that’s them,” he says. His eyes follow two men in business suits, a stout middle-aged man with short, grey hair and a skinny young man with an ear tuck haircut.
They find Gavin too, and the older man waves at us.
“Hello, Paul! It’s nice to finally meet you!” Gavin walks toward him, and they shake hands.
“Good morning, Gavin. Nice to meet you.” Paul Bernard speaks English with an expected French accent. “This is my nephew and my assistant, Louis.”
Gavin shakes hands with the young man and then turns to me with a warm smile. “My assistant and interpreter, Ivy.”
I panic, and my mind goes blank, not remembering what to say at all for a second. And then I shake Paul’s hand, and speak French with my usual horrible accent, “Enchanté, Monsieur Bernard!”
Paul raises his eyebrows. “Enchanté, Mademoiselle Ivy!”
I repeat the phrase when I shake hands with Louis, but he speaks English to me, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ivy!”
My mouth falls. Both of them speak English well. I glance at Gavin, but he doesn’t look surprised at all. He seems to have expected it. I’m puzzled. Why is it necessary for me to be here?
I live in SF most of my life and have been to Fishman’s Warf countless times. Whenever relatives or friends visit, we always take them here. The place reminds me of happy memories but they make me sad at the moment. When I see the crab wheel sign, I remember taking a photo in front of it with my mom and my grandma. I was about five. The picture is still in my bedroom, although both my Mom and my grandma are gone. My eyes sting, and before I know it I’m reaching for tissue in my purse.
“Are you all right, Ivy?” I hear Gavin’s voice behind me.
“Yeah I am,” I say quickly, and turn to look at him. “I’m sorry. I just…remember my mom.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” He hugs me.
“Where are Paul and Louis?” I ask while sniffling.
“They’re in the souvenir shop,” Gavin says, nodding toward the shop behind us. “I told them we’d wait outside.”
We sit down on a bench, and I watch the pigeons in silence.
I was fifteen when my mom was diagnosed with cancer. It was so unexpected it took me a while to realize what it meant. My dad wasn’t even himself at first. For months after that, Mom was in an out of the hospital a lot. Dad was busy taking care of her, and I found myself working in the restaurant most of the afternoons and evenings.
I was depressed and confused. But thanks to Kayla and Gavin, I didn’t burn out. Despite being busy at his vineyard, Gavin came to the restaurant to help us out at least once a week. He even took me out hiking a few times during the weekends, sometimes with Diana.
“Thanks for taking me out back then, Gavin,” I say.
Gavin takes a moment to understand what I’m speaking about. He smiles and reaches to brush the remaining of my tears with his thumb. “You’re very welcome, Ivy. I can’t believe you still remember it.”
I do. Those were sweet memories that brightened the dark days of my young life, even though I noticed Diana wasn’t happy about having me as a third wheel. I think my crush on Gavin started then.
I remember I was jealous of Gavin and Diana. They were healthy and cheerful, while my poor parents were so miserable. It was the first time in my life I realized life was unfair. Why did some people live to a hundred while others like my mom had to get sick and die young? My mom was only fifty-two when she passed away.
Looking back, it was silly of me. Although my mom had a short life, she was happy when she was alive. My dad loved her.
I turn to glance at Gavin. He is lost in thought, too. I wonder what he’s thinking. Perhaps he’s missing Diana? I still can’t believe Diana would leave him. He was such a devoted husband, not to mention being so hot. I would never leave him if he were mine.
Gavin suddenly turns and meets my eyes. I blush and look away.
Louis and Paul come out of the shop, each holding a large shopping bag. We get to the waterfront overlooking the sea lion colony. Despite the stench and the howling noise, it’s my favorite spot at the pier. Looking at these funny, carefree creatures sunbathing on the dock makes me smile. They’re playful and yet majestic at the same time.
“Merde!” Louis exclaims. “That’s a lot of sea lions!”
Paul gives his nephew a warning look, and Louis apologizes to us. “Excuse my French.”
While Paul and Gavin discuss the differences between sea lions and seals, Louis takes pictures on his cell phone.
“Would you like me to take pictures of you?” I offer after he finishes a selfie.
“That’ll be great,” he says and hands me his phone.
He shoves his hands in his jean pockets for a cool pose, and I stifle a laugh as I press the button on the screen.
I notice for the first time he’s quite a handsome guy although he has a small statue. His large hazel eyes with long lashes can easily catch a girl’s heart.
“What’re you thinking?” he asks me in French when I return the phone to him.
I blush right away. I know how to answer him, but I stutter. “I’m…err…nothing, rien.”
“Let me guess,” he says, cocking his head playfully. “You’re thinking, ‘Il est si beau que les taureaux se battront pour lui.”
It took me seconds to understand what he just said. He’s so handsome the bulls will fight for him. I can’t hold my laugh this time. “No, not bulls, but sea lion. Les lions de mers!”
He gazes at the sea lions, and shrugs. “Pas mal. Sea lions are fine with me!”