There are also meds for your erectile dysfunction problem.”
“Good to know.” Luke swallowed some coffee.
* * *
Irene looked at Vicki. “Mrs. Danner, I understand that, as Luke’s mother, you’re naturally very worried about him.”
“I am not his mother.”
“Stepmother, I mean,” Irene said quickly.
Vicki’s elegantly manicured fingers tightened on the delicate handle of the coffee cup. “Let’s ge omething clear, Irene. I do not know what Luke has told you about our relationship, but I can assur ou that he does not consider me to be his mother or stepmother. I am his father’s wife.”
“Well, yes, certainly, but—”
Vicki sighed. “From day one Luke made it plain that he did not need or want a mother. I will neve orget my first impression of him when John introduced us. I swear, that boy was ten years old goin n forty.”
Katy frowned a little. “Luke is very fond of you, Vicki, you know that.”
“He wasn’t at the beginning,” Vicki said grimly. “At first I made the mistake of trying to take the plac f the mother he had lost. But by that point Luke and his father, together with Gordon, had been an all-male team for several years. Luke liked the situation just the way it was.” The cup trembled eve o slightly in her fingers. “I’ve often wondered if I’m the one who drove him out of the family.”
Irene took another muffin out of the basket. “What do you mean?”
“Perhaps if I hadn’t come into his life, if I hadn’t taken so much of his father’s attention and the rovided him with two younger half brothers, maybe Luke wouldn’t have felt compelled to go into academia and then into the Marines.” She paused. “And if he hadn’t done that, maybe he wouldn’ e in the situation he’s in today.”
“Whoa, wait, stop right there.” Irene waved her napkin wildly in front of Vicki’s distraught face.
“Get a grip, lady. This is Luke we’re talking about. He marches to the beat of his own drummer. This is one man who for sure makes his own choices You are not responsible for him joining the Marines or buying the lodge or anything else he chooses to do.”
“John is so very anxious about him,” Vicki whispered.
“Luke is okay,” Irene said.
Vicki looked at her, seeking reassurance. “Are you sure? Do you think he’ll come back to the business?”
Irene considered briefly. “If Elena Creek Vineyards was in serious trouble and if he thought he might be able to help save it, Luke would come back. He knows how much the business means to everyone i he family. Given his sense of loyalty and responsibility, it’s safe to say that he would make a rescue attempt if necessary. But otherwise, no. He has his own plans.”
“Operating the Sunrise on the Lake Lodge?” Vicki said. “That’s ridiculous. Luke is no innkeeper. He belongs at the winery.”
Katy looked thoughtful. “You know, Irene has a point. Six months ago, like everyone else, I was focused on trying to help Luke adjust to life here in Santa Elena because I knew that’s what Uncle John, Dad and you thought would be best for him.
But when I think back, I can see that maybe we were wrong to try to push him into the business and into marriage. Maybe all we were really doing was applying more pressure at a point in his life when that was the last thing he needed.”
This time Irene flapped the napkin in Katy’s face, instead of Vicki’s. “Don’t go there, either. There’s no call to blame yourselves for urging Luke to join the business, get married and act normal. For a while,
that was what he thought he wanted. Trust me, if Luke hadn’t been on board with the plan, it wouldn’t have gotten as far as it did. Or haven’t you noticed that he isn’t very easy to manipulate?”
Katy smiled wryly. “None of the males in this family are easily manipulated.”
Vicki made a face. “Stubborn and hardheaded, every last one of them.”
Irene put the napkin back in her lap. “Luke knows what he’s doing.” At that moment she caught sigh f him making his way across the restaurant toward her. “Oops, gotta go. There’s my ride.”
“What?” Katy turned and saw Luke. “Uh-oh. I’ve got a feeling the intervention didn’t go well.”
Vicki watched Luke with an anxious expression. “Dr. Van Dyke told John that the intervention would last at least an hour and that she hoped to take Luke immediately into a private therapy session afterward.”
“Someone should have warned Dr. Van Dyke that Luke usually has his own agenda,” Irene said.
Luke reached the table and halted. “Morning, ladies. Nice day for an intervention, isn’t it?” He looked at Irene. “Don’t know about you, but I’ve had my fun. Time to leave.”
“I was pretty sure you were going to say that.” Irene jumped to her feet and seized a fresh napkin.
“Hang on a sec.”
She spread the napkin on the table, picked up the bread basket and dumped the remaining muffins into the center of the linen square. Working quickly she folded the goodies into the napkin and knotted the ends.
The waiter appeared with a takeout container. “Your omelet ma’am. There’s a plastic knife and for nd some napkins, too.”
“Right on time, thanks.” Irene took the container from him, grabbed her coat off the back of the chair, slipped the strap of her purse over her shoulder and smiled at Luke. “I’m ready.”
“Let’s go,” he said.
Jason, Hackett, Gordon and John hurried across the restaurant. A woman wearing a tweed suit an hoes that had obviously been designed for comfort, not style, followed in their wake. Dr. Van Dyke, Irene thought.
“Luke, wait,” John ordered.
“Sorry, Dad.” Luke steered Irene toward the door. “We’ve got some things to do in the city.”
The woman in the tweed suit loomed directly in front of Irene, accusation radiating from her in waves.
“You are enabling his behavior,” the woman said quietly.
“Not exactly,” Irene said. “Luke pretty much does his own thing.”
“I know you want what is best for him. We all do. That’s why I’m here.”
Irene glanced quickly around at the circle of concerned faces, trying to think of something she could say that would reassure all these people who obviously cared so much about Luke. Inspiration struck.