Bitter Truth (Hawthorne Vines #1)

I pass over the itinerary I spent most of yesterday and today working on, as well as the staffing structure and completed position descriptions.

“I figured the best bet for training would be to move everyone through phases, so if you look at”—I tug out one of the sheets at the back of the stack in Memphis’s hand—“this page, you’ll notice there are knowledge areas that everyone has to complete before they can finish the training. There’s a front-of-house section that includes things like wines, the physical menu, supplies, and serving basics. Then there’s the back-of-house section that includes health and safety, ingredients and food, supplies, and kitchen basics.”

Memphis looks over the documents I’ve shared with him for a few minutes, his eyes narrowed as he scans over everything.

Then he looks at me.

“You created these?”

My shoulders drop, and something in my face must fall as well because Memphis speaks again.

“I’m just asking because it’s an incredible amount of work to get done in two days, Murphy.”

“No, you’re asking because you don’t think I’m capable of creating things like this.”

At my brother’s silence, I know I’ve hit the nail on the head.

“Look, Murphy, I don’t know what you expect from me, okay? I haven’t seen you in nine years, and we’ve only talked a handful of times.” He sets the paperwork down between us. “How am I supposed to know what you can and can’t do?”

I lick my lips, tears beginning to prickle at the backs of my eyes and sting my nose.

“Nine years is a long time, isn’t it?” I take in a steeling breath. “Did it ever occur to you … ever … to come visit me in LA?”

Memphis shifts in his seat but doesn’t say anything.

“In all those nine years, in the handful of times we spoke … who called who?” I continue. “Did you ever think to reach out to me? To ask how I was doing? To see … fuck, if I was even still alive?”

At that, one of my tears falls, but I bat it away, unwilling to let crying derail this conversation—one that Memphis and I have needed to have for quite some time.

“I have been working my ass off for years, sometimes two and three jobs at a time, basically just sleeping and working, and fitting in performing my music where I could. And in all the years I was pushing for my dream, Micah was the only one to come visit me.”

“I was working my ass off, too.” Memphis shoves out of his chair and begins to pace around the room. “While you were off having fun and doing whatever the hell, I was here, taking care of our family and making sure the vineyard didn’t go into bankruptcy.”

I’m gearing up to respond to the off having fun remark when I hear the second half of his sentence, and my head jerks back in surprise.

“What?”

He looks out the window, the vines in the distance barely visible at this late hour, but we both know they’re there.

“Memphis, what did you mean by that?” I ask again when he hasn’t said anything a few minutes later. “Dad always said business was booming when we were growing up. Did something change?”

My brother is quiet for another moment before he speaks again.

“Dad doesn’t always know what he’s talking about.”

He doesn’t turn around and look at me, but he doesn’t have to. Even with close to a decade of time having passed since we last saw each other, I still know him like nobody else.

Even though his shoulders are tight and his voice has grown loud, even though he was pacing this office and now he’s staring out into the darkness, I still know my brother. I give it less than three minutes before he finally spins around and pretends like nothing is wrong.

“You can talk to me, you know?” I keep trying even though I know the outcome.

Because that’s what family does. They keep trying.

Or at least, it’s what you’re supposed to do.

Sure enough, about two minutes later, he turns around and heads back to his desk, his face returning to that infuriatingly neutral expression that I’ve seen far too many times. Once he’s seated again, he collects all the paperwork we’d been talking about, shuffles it into a neat stack, and then hands it back to me.

“This looks great, Murphy. Just run it all by Wes so you’re both on the same page since it looks like he’ll need to be running part of the training.”