Read Christmas in Wine Country for Free Online Page A

Was this what she’d become? She was one step away from wandering the streets wearing a tiara and a fuchsia prom dress circa 1985 belting out “Makin Love! Out of Nothing at All” Her neighbors would call the cops to report a noise disturbance. Then they’d send her away someplace quiet and restful. Actually, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad?
    *               *               *
    It was two am. 2:13 to be exact, as the neon clock face burned its way into her skull.
    Soon after Lila had arrived at Surf Ranch, the world’s most romantic B&B, she’d passed out, grateful and exhausted, into the sixteen or so down pillows gracing the king size bed in room number three.
    That had lasted a couple of hours. Then, insomnia had awoken her with a start for an obsessive thinkfest giving Lila the opportunity to froth herself into a frenzy of panic.
    “It’s not the right fit.” She kept hearing her boss’ words. True, she hadn’t found the right fit at the company yet, but she just needed more time to work at it. She’d entered AdSales as a lowly copyeditor, the best, OK the only job that had presented itself to an English major fresh out of college. A promotion on that track would have sent her into writing copy and since she clearly wasn’t a “Creative”—in fact, she still had trouble using that word as a noun—after two years she’d taken another route within the firm and started in on client relations. Though she’d been organized, diligent and good at database management, she had to admit that the client relationship management, a.k.a. schmoozing, generally left her with a eye twitch and a stomach ache.
    Or a YouTube video.
    Padding out of bed, she opened the screen door a crack in hopes that the crashing surf outside the ocean-facing room would serve as soothing white noise. Instead, back in bed, she alternated between deciding it sounded like a tsunami —could those happen in Northern California ?— to realizing it was the soundtrack to the endless, relentless march of time that must overtake us all.
    Why in the name of all things holy had she gone to Phillip for comfort after getting laid off? Broken up with by being told there was nothing to break up. That was a new low, Lila reflected, tossing in her bed. Also, how could over a dozen down pillows feel so uncomfortable?
    Frustrated by the constant mental replay of a movie she hadn’t much liked the first go-round, Lila turned to a shelf of books in the room. Rejecting the romance novels—she knew she’d just stay up until she got to the end—she chose a local history. Despite its melodramatic title, “CIVIL WAR: Napa vs. Sonoma,” Lila trusted it to be suitably dull to put her to sleep.
    She was wrong. Five am and filled with facts—did you know Sonoma was five times as large as Napa but only had about 300 wineries compared to Napa’s 500? How about that Sonoma was known for being more casual and laid back with more boutique wineries, whereas Napa was typically more expensive, offering a visitor more glitz and glam?—she finally had to put the book aside. As the morning light crept in, Lila was visited by the ironic Insomnia Fairy who liked to play evil, twisted games and bring sleep only just before the alarm clock rang for work. She drifted off around 5:30am. This Monday, December 28 th , the silver lining on Lila’s jobless cloud was the fact that she could keep on sleeping.
    Later that day, settled in a massive, overstuffed armchair, wrapped in a down comforter and looking out at the crashing ocean surf, she found herself crying once again. Yet even as the tears stream down her cheeks, she had to acknowledge it was a far better setting for a breakdown. Tucked in amidst soothing creams and taupes, the room had been decorated to the height of good taste. Together with the fireplace, it provided the perfect backdrop to the stunning oceanfront.
    There was a reason the views along route 1 were world-famous. The day’s driving