Chapter 31

07:20 Sunday, October 6^th, 1991

28910 Matadero Creek Lane

Los Altos Hills, CA 94022

"Move over, Harry." Deb was holding the paper and a mug of coffee, and Harry was reading Newsweek. With a questioning smile, Harry slid over on the couch. There was time to read, he was sure, since they wouldn't need to be at the vineyard until ten, the first pick was nearly completed yesterday.

Sliding in next to him, leaning firmly against his side in her bathrobe, Deb wriggled for a moment, trying to get comfortable, then lifted his arm and placed it around her shoulder, and sighed contentedly. She opened the paper to the Style section, much to Harry's bemusement.

He figured if she wasn't going to say anything then neither was he, but as soon as he tried to return to his magazine, she made an excited noise, and pointed out the article she had found to him.

Local Vineyard Celebrates Pinot Harvest

6 Oct 1991, Marin Co., CA - With a large crowd of friends and relatives on hand, the Collins family, owners of the Corbeau-Roux Vineyard, harvested their first crop of Pinot.

The Collinses recently purchased the 50-ish acre vineyard with vines already established. Though this year they were occupied with the purchase of the property and the sale of this year's crush, the term for a wine-grape crop, next year Kate Collins has plans for bottling some of her own wine, with a Marin Appellation, the term given for naming a wine by its area of origin.

On hand and participating were hundreds of people, ranging from local high-school and college students, to dozens of the City's social set, guests of the Collinses, pressed into work snipping bunches. "It was great fun, and very interesting to see where our fine California wines come from first hand," said Marie Short, wife of L.A. Raider footballer Howard Short.

The adults present had a wonderful time, and the children of the volunteer help harvesting the grapes were entertained too – the six-year-old niece of the vineyard foreman can be seen at the wheel of the John Deere tractor used to pull the cartloads of grapes down the hillside, her father behind her on the seat. (photo M. Penley)

In typical Northern California fashion, the vineyard is run with great concern for its environmental impacts and with sensitivity for local labor. Kate Collins is the vineyard manager/owner, and her partners are silent in the operation. Her husband Dan is, for the short-term helping with the labor on the vineyard, bringing his more than thirty years' ranching experience to bear. "This is Kate's project," he confirmed, "I'm here to help in the next short while, and then she's pushing me out the door."

Dan Collins was referring to his campaign for the Sixth Assembly District seat, a seat he's likely to win, given his familiarity with agricultural and labor concerns.

With the backing of the City's social elite and the salt-of-the-Earth, and the promise of rich Pinot soaking up the warm late-season sun, there's sure to be a new social event next autumn not to miss. We'll have to wait a year until Kate Collins' wines are bottled. Put me down for a case.

Harry gave a surprised grunt. "That was short work. She must have sent the slug in last night after getting back."

Deb nodded, though she seemed preoccupied. "The mention of the college students. She must have talked to Lenore's friends."

"The Gunny brought them over. Why do you mention them?" Harry was perplexed, to him it was plain Lenore had asked the Gunny to bring them by prior to her departure, or possibly it was inverted – that the Gunny had asked Lenore's friends to help Kate out. Either way, the girls had worked hard, and both had had some of the celebratory wine afterward. Harry was fairly sure the two left with the Gunny prior to nineteen-hundred hours.

"Mmm, no reason in particular." Deb looked up at Harry, and then returned her head to his chest. "Harry, I've made some mistakes. This is nice," and he understood her to mean the contact they shared. "Can I ask you for a really huge favor?"

"Of course," Harry told her.

"Good. I hate Title Ten of the Code, section Ten-Ninety-Three." She pushed herself up a little, to see if he recognized it.

Harry, in fact, did. It read: "Funds available to the Department of Defense may not be used to perform abortions except where the life of the mother would be endangered if the fetus were carried to term," it said, and, "No medical treatment facility or other facility of the Department of Defense may be used to perform an abortion except where the life of the mother would be endangered if the fetus were carried to term or in a case in which the pregnancy is the result of an act of rape or incest."

"Deb, I can't take that on ... I'd get swallowed whole."

"I'm not asking you to challenge the Article. I want ... am requesting, Harry, begging, really, you to use your friendships and relations to soften the interpretation. Look, the goddamn Europeans have a pill to take, an emergency contraceptive. Think about the force readiness problems the Navy faces ... and what about women who are pregnant overseas, or places like Aduk, or Diego Garcia?"

Jesus, she's right. Pregnancies really weaken the readiness for movement for the services. But why in hell is she bringing this up now? She's mentioned ... oh, shit. Harry looked down at Deb. "It's DiPietro, isn't it?" The question really wasn't necessary, he knew.