"They had another child," Trevor suddenly replied. He worked as he spoke. "A son born after Rhona was born, but he was born with some defect in his brain stem and died a few days later. They did all they could. Mrs. Westington got so she denied the boy was ever born. Don't mention it to her. She never even gave him a name. Wouldn't do it. Mr. Frank named him after his father. Byron, but she didn't
acknowledge it and she didn't attend the funeral or the burial. As far as I know, she never visited the g-rave either. After that, they had no more children. Closest I ever heard to why not was her saying once that she didn't need to be told twice. Don't you go mentioning any of this to her," Trevor warned me. "or you'll be one sorry young woman. Ain't nobody who hates gossip more than she does, although she'll do her fair share of it," he said with a wink.
We both turned at the sound of an automobile coming up the driveway. It was a red convertible sports car. Tyler Monahan's wavy long dark brown hair floated about his face, hiding his features. He parked in front of the house and got out quickly, a packet of books and notebooks under his ann. Echo immediately stepped out of the house to greet him, signing quickly. He signed back and almost entered the house without seeing me. He glanced our way and then he turned sharply and paused. I stared back at him almost as hard as he was staring at me. I knew from the picture of him and Echo in the living room that he had distinctly Asian characteristics. With a name like Monahan, his father had to be Irish, of course. The mixture of races had produced a strikingly handsome and interesting face.
"That's her tutor," Trevor muttered.
"Yes, I know," I said.
Tyler looked about six feet tall. He was slim and very fit looking. He wore a light blue polo shirt and jeans with blue boat shoes. I thought he was going to wave at us, but instead, he brought his hand up to brush back his hair and then he turned and hurried up the steps to join Echo. They went into the house.
Trevor glanced from them to me and then back to his grapes. "His mother comes from Hong Kong," he said, imagining my questions. 'She's a very independent woman, but family means a whole lot more to her than to most. No way he'd ever desert her like Rhona deserted Mrs. Westington and her own baby, However. Mrs. Westington ain't very fond of her," he paused to whisper. "Whenever she talks to her, she says the woman makes her feel like she suspects Mrs. Westington's got her hand in her back pocket, like she's going to steal away her son or something, as if she has secret plans to bring back the vineyard and needs his help. Stuff like that.'
"Speaking of help, would you like some?" I asked.
He laughed. "That's something I ain't heard much around here, Sure." He reached down for a basket and fixed the cord that held it around my neck. "Frees up both your hands." he said. 'Be gentle with them and don't just drop them hard into the basket. okay?"
"Okay," I said, and began. I felt him watching me out of the corner of his eve. The grapes were like his babies.
"That's good," he said. He looked back at the house. "Don't be surprised if she bawls you out for wasting your time."
"It's not a waste of time to me. I'd like to learn all about the wine-making process."
He shook his head. "That's something else I ain't heard much around here," he said.
"Does Echo ever help you?"
"No. I don't want to cause no problems. although I often see her sitting off to the side wishing I would ask. She knows about the winery and the process. You can't live here alongside me and not know it." He winked. "Take a letter," he said. and I laughed.
I nearly had half a basket picked when I heard the screen door open and then heard Mrs. Westington call for me. "Stop wasting time out there and come meet Tyler Monahan," she shouted, tapping her cane. "You got more important things to do than waste your time with that foolish man. girl."
"Go on," Trevor said. 'Before she skins me alive."
I took off the basket cord and carefully set the basket down.
"That man," Mrs. Westington said, glaring out at Trevor when I approached the steps. "He could talk a bee into stinging itself. Go on in and meet Tyler Monahan." she ordered, and stepped away from the door.
I entered slowly and started down the hallway to what had been Mr. Westinton's office, but to my surprise. Tyler was waiting in the living room.
"In here." I heard.
I stepped in. Echo wasn't there. Tyler was standing by the window, his hands behind his back. He turned slowly and looked at me. I had no trouble understanding why Echo would have a deeply felt crush on him. A girl didn't have to be lonely or isolated to swoon before so handsome a man. He had eyes like black pearls, a firm, full, masculine mouth, and skin like smooth butter. Brenda would call him buff, and although she had little interest in men, would admire him for the respect he obviously had for his our well-being and physical fitness. His narrow waist made his chest and shoulders look bigger than they were. I doubted he had two ounces of fat on him. He made me more conscious of my own weight problem. I embraced myself and waited for him to speak. He fixed his brilliant pearl black eyes on me, scrutinizing and making me feel even more selfconscious.
"Who are you?" he asked. It sounded more like a demand, especially in his deep, baritone voice.
"My name is April Taylor." I didn't know what else to tell him exactly.
"You're not claiming to be a long, lost relative?"
'No. Mrs. Westington has asked me to stay here for a while and help her with Echo."
Why was he cross-examining me like this?
"You don't attend any school?"
"Not presently. no."
"You just want to pass a high school