The Shortest Way Home by Miriam Parker

Author:Miriam Parker
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2018-07-30T16:00:00+00:00

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We drove in silence for a while, until the signs started to indicate that we were near downtown Healdsburg. “Where are we going?” I asked.

“Oh,” she said, shaking herself out of her reverie. “I should have told you that. We’re going to see Chris Crane at the Shed, which is a seafood restaurant. He’s had this restaurant for a few years. Before this he had a little wine bar in Calistoga. Maybe he still has it? We’ll ask. I’ve known him for a long time—he also makes wine out on Dry Creek Road and he sells some of it at the Shed, but he loves our whites. So I’ve brought him some today. If there’s time, we can also go visit my friends at Copperfield’s. I hear they might want to serve wine in their café.”

“Sounds fun,” I said. “What should I be doing?”

“Just listen,” she said.

The Shed, she explained, was not on the main square of Healdsburg but on a side street. But she wanted to park in the square so that I could see how lovely it was. It was not unlike Sonoma, which also had a center square, but Sonoma’s was larger and airier. Healdsburg felt cozier. We parked on Plaza Street and walked through the beautiful square to the other side. We passed Copperfield’s, a beautiful bookstore, and then finally turned onto a sunny side street. We walked by a few tasting rooms and a taco shack and finally got to the Shed. It was a large open space that looked to be made of tin. Kind of like an old gas station, but classier. There was outdoor seating, where a family was sitting with a baby in a high chair and a golden retriever lounging under their chairs. A carafe of rosé sat waiting in an ice bath. Their plates were heaped with greens and fruit. Through the huge open barn-style doors, there was an enormous square white bar adorned with large urns of pussy willow. The bartenders stood inside, all wearing black headbands and wristbands. Linda walked in front of me, nodding at the hostess, and headed back to the kitchen, which was open, with two line cooks and a man in a big chef’s hat who was slicing beef.

“Chris!” she said, tapping on the counter lightly. Her voice took on an airier tone now that we were out of our regular environment. This was saleswoman Linda.

He looked up and smiled broadly. “Linda! It’s so good to see you!” He tapped one of the other workers in the room to continue slicing the beef, washed his hands, and came around the counter to give Linda a big hug. He looked at me quizzically.

“Oh,” she said. “This is Hannah, our summer . . . associate?”

I held out my hand, “I’m just here to learn,” I said. “Pretend I’m not here.”

“A summer associate? What’s that all about?”

“She’s been helping me with a bunch of things,” Linda said.

“Wow,” he said. His eyes twinkled. “What could you possibly need help with?”

“Oh, stop.

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