Chapter 33

Bob left Martha's bed, trying not to wake her up. For whatever reason he had been able to go for a long time with her the night before, and their lovemaking had lasted long past her normal bedtime. He loved looking at all his daughters as they lay naked in bed. He wondered if that was how they had felt as they watched him lying naked in bed all those years. He hoped so. It was a good feeling, and the trouble they'd gone to, to care for him all those years needed to be repaid somehow.

He drove to the architect's office and told him about the winery. He watched in silent amazement as the man manipulated the computer to produce satellite images of the property. There was a large printer in the office and, when the man was done, they had a bird's eye view of the whole operation. It looked huge on the three foot by five foot print.

"This image is three years old," said the Architect. "When you were there did you see any major additions or changes to what's on this print?"

They went over each building and Bob was able to state with relative certainty that nothing major had been changed. Then they discussed where to locate a new structure so that it would fit in with the existing buildings and be separate from the primary traffic areas of the winery.

"What's this here?" asked the man, pointing.

"That's a stage. I guess they have live music once in a while or something ... parties for wine tasting ... that kind of thing," said Bob.

"Look at the sweep of the land right there." the man pointed. "It's a natural amphitheater. You have the makings for a bigger concert venue here, possibly even a resort." The man made a copy of the print and started marking squares and lines, creating a complex of buildings that would house paying guests. He mapped trails through the hills for hiking and trail rides. By the time he was done he had created a resort where people could come to listen to music, or submerse themselves in the wine making process, or have a family reunion or even host a small convention. He suggested that it could produce as much or more income than the wine itself would provide.

"You're talking a lot of money for a setup like that," said Bob.

"You could do it in phases," said the man. "You've already got the pool and the small stage. The complete infrastructure exists for horses and trail rides, except for the trails themselves, and that will take minimal cash outlay. Once a trail is broken, the horses will pack it down. All you'd need initially is some kind of housing for guests. I'd suggest a lodge by the pool, something large enough to take forty or fifty people in semi-private rooms, or maybe private rooms with shared sanitary facilities, and with a central meeting room with food production capability. Or you could just have a catering station, where food is brought in and served. That gives you a venue for family reunions and conferences, church retreats, summer camps, workshops in the arts and things like that. You could put that in for less than a couple of million with competitive bidding. Then, later, you expand the amphitheater and start booking major acts. There aren't that many outdoor venues for concerts, and the ones that exist are constantly booked solid."

The man stood back. "Of course it's up to you. I know that there are organizations out there who have a hard time finding venues for their events because of the cost. You'd be providing something more rustic than the glitz and glamour of the Hilton meeting rooms. Make it wheel chair friendly and you're a shoe-in for summer camping experiences for the disabled and things like that. For that matter, you'd probably be booked through the winter too."

"I'll talk it over with the girls," said Bob. "For now, we just need a place to live. That's the highest priority."

That took another two hours, but by the time they were finished the architect said he could have preliminary drawings ready in two weeks. If those were approved the dirt work could start immediately, with construction to begin in less than a month, assuming final blueprints were in hand. Bob left there with a copy of the satellite picture of the property and drove to the winery. He met with Annie and showed her the photograph. He shared the architect's vision with her. Her initial reaction was not positive. She was a winemaker, and that's where she wanted to center her attention. It was when Bob mentioned camps for the handicapped that she perked up.

"I have a nephew with Cerebral Palsy" she said. "He's in a wheel chair. His brother and sister get to go to camp every year, but he's never been able to go because the place they go can't handle wheel chairs." Her eyes went unfocused for a few seconds. "I couldn't take care of that though. I have my hands full with the winery."

"I wouldn't ask you to do anything other than make wine," said Bob. "But if we're going to develop this place into something more than just a world class winery, I don't want it to interfere with the winery. Your input will be critical to make sure that things get put where they belong, and where they won't affect your operation. We'd have to hire a manager for the other operations."

Annie was a lot more positive about the idea then, her imagination catching fire as she thought of hosting wine tasting competitions and things like that. He showed her the site for the Winkle housing compound, which was going to be made up of Spanish style stucco family units connected to a common living room and dining area by a grid of covered walkways with arbors and gardens. It looked a little like a fan, with the wide curving area behind the living quarters composed of garages. It would be mostly hidden from the big stone house and the amphitheater by a low curving ridge and plantings of trees and shrubs. A separate gated family entrance was sketched into the plan as well. You had to drive past the entrance to the winery to get to that gate.

Then they sat and made up a two year budget for operation of the winery. Bob said that as soon as the closing took place, she would have access to funds to execute that budget, and should make plans accordingly. He wanted the winery to be in full forward motion as soon as possible.

When he finally drove away, Annie was so euphoric about the future that she realized she was actually sexually excited. She had to retreat to her bedroom and masturbate just to take the edge off enough that she could return to her work.

Polly approached the den with no little trepidation. It was more or less Roger's studio, where he created his art works. He made a good living selling paintings and pottery.

When she went in he looked up and smiled.

"What's up?" he asked.

"I need to talk to you," said Polly. "It's important."

"Well, if it's important to you, it's important to me." he said smiling.

"You know I've been dating a man." she said.

"Yes," said Roger. "You seem a lot happier lately. He's pretty cute, by the way. You have good taste in men."

Polly wasn't sure how to take that. They had never discussed men before.

"I like this man a lot," said Polly. "Enough that I'd like to make the relationship a lot closer."

"Well, since you've stayed out several nights already," said Roger, "that would be pretty hard to do." He smiled.

"It hasn't been easy for you has it?" asked Polly.

"Oh, I don't know. You've been very good about our situation. I'm really glad you have someone to take the place of what I couldn't give you."

"What about you?" asked Polly. "Are your needs being filled?"

"There's a man I like a lot," said Roger. "It's awkward sometimes. I don't mind the situation here, but some of them are a little nervous about it." He wasn't a stupid man. "What's going on?" he asked.

"I'm pregnant," said Polly. This was what she was here to tell him, but she wasn't at all sure about how he would react. Admitting that she was pregnant might blow up in her face.

"Wow!" said Roger. "You did this on purpose?" he asked.

"No. I think I'd forgotten how dating can lead to things." she said.

"What do you want to do?" he asked.

"He's asked me to marry him." she said, her heart in her throat.

"I see." he said.

"I thought that you could stay here, if you like, or we could sell the house and you could go wherever you want to. Fran will want to stay here, to finish school."

"You really think so?" he asked. He wasn't giving his emotions away.

"I know so," said Polly. "You're her father. She loves you."

"But you don't love me any more." he said.

"I'll always love you." she said. "You know that. But it's a different kind of love now."

"I know." he sighed. "I'm amazed you didn't do this years ago. You gave me the best years of your life, Polly."

"It could make your situation better too," said Polly.

"You're right about that." he said. He wiped his hands on a rag. "So what do we do now?"

"I don't know ... talk to a lawyer?"

"I don't want to make this difficult for either of us, and especially not Fran," said Roger.