“Possibly next summer, but they’re still arguing about it. He wants sooner, she wants more time to plan.” April laughed and shook her head. “Those two get off on bickering, I swear to God. It’s like foreplay to them.”

I squinted. “Foreplay? What’s foreplay? I vaguely recall it might have something to do with sex, but . . .”

April’s eyes closed. “Tell me about it.”

“How about Meg? She’s back home for good now?” Our middle sister had been living in DC for years but had come home for Frannie’s wedding and promptly fallen head over heels for her old friend Noah, a sheriff’s deputy in town.

“Yep. She moved back right before Thanksgiving, and she appears to be going through the motions of looking for a place to live, but she and Noah seem pretty darn cozy in his house. I’ll be surprised if she ever moves out.” She sighed. “All three of our little sisters seem happy as can be.”

I heard the wistful tone in her voice. “What about you? Are you seeing anyone? Got a hot date for New Year’s Eve?”

She shook her head. “I wish, but no. I’ve just been working a lot.”

“Even in December?”

She shrugged. “Well, Mom and Dad were gone on their cruise for three weeks, so we all had to pitch in to cover. And there have been a ton of holiday parties this month. Chloe is running ragged trying to get the distillery going while still managing the tasting room and prepping to take over for Dad full time. The Christmas Eve party is coming up Tuesday, and the New Year’s Eve dinner is the following week. January will be a little break, at least, but we’ve got some corporate events. And in February, we’ll get busy again for Valentine’s Day and Presidents’ Weekend.”

“Sounds like you should hire some help.”

“It’s on my list. I’m actually interviewing someone right after the holidays, another event planner.”

“I can help out in the meantime.”

“I might take you up on that,” April said. “Or if you want to freeze your ass off in the vineyard, you can help Henry with the pruning.”

“Oh, that’s right. Pruning starts soon.”

“Twenty thousand acres, all done by hand.” April imitated Henry’s deep voice. “It’s an art form.”

I laughed. I didn’t know Henry all that well, but I knew he was very serious about his vines. “Poor Henry. Does it bother him that you guys tease him so much?”

“Nah.” She waved a hand in the air. “He’s like the honorary Sawyer brother—he can take it. And he knows we’re kidding.”

“Dad emailed me a link to a magazine article about him a few weeks ago. Like a 40 Under 40 Tastemakers in Wine kind of thing?”