yellow-and-lime-green Natureâs Way van with giant sunflowers on each side. Weâd packed the van with all the ingredients Merrily would need to make dishes on the spot, along with some that were already prepared. Jackson would arrive later when the cocktail party started at one oâclock.
Pure was the perfect venue for a party. The main area below Simonâs office felt expansive and was impressive, with floor-to-ceiling windows on the side that faced the back lawn, a high beamed ceiling, a black bar with silver trim, polished hardwood floors, elegant black tables with white tablecloths, and a large black Steinway piano in the corner, where the pianist was warming up.
We lugged the boxes into the kitchen, which was behind the bar, while I texted Simon to let him know that I was here. He replied with a âthumbs-upâ emoticon.
We went back and forth to the van several moretimes until we finally had all the boxes and supplies in the kitchen, which was a chefâs dreamânew, modern, with all the gadgets and shiny appliances you could ever need. Simon had spared no expense since he had planned from the outset to host events at Pure to raise its profile in the wine community.
Merrily and Lily quickly went to work and spent the next hour and a half preparing several choices of amuse-bouche âbite-size hors dâoeuvresâand the appetizers that would follow. Meanwhile, I focused on the dining room. The tables had been set, but I wanted to add little pumpkins to each table, and pots of locally grown yellow, orange, and pink mums to add fall flavor.
Iâd just about finished when Jackson arrived with the first wave of guests, who oohed and aahed at the room and the view. They headed for the bar, or the servers Ivy had hired who were circulating with glasses of Pure wine while classical music was played on the piano. Other servers offered tasty amuse-bouche , including broiled oysters with lime butter, shrimp seviche with mint and mango, and cream-cheese pancakes with smoked salmon.
Jackson looked handsome in a crisp aqua-blue dress shirt, black cords, and boots. It had only been a few hours, but I felt so happy to see him again, the same way Iâd felt when we first started dating. Thatâs something.
âYou look nice.â He gave me a quick kiss. Iâd changed into a black cotton turtleneck and a long gray skirt, with a brown vegan belt and vegan boots. I resembled my late aunt Claire, and like her I was talland slender with long blond hair, high cheekbones, and good teeth. The teeth of the tiger, my aunt would always say.
âYou do, too,â I said, handing him a seltzer with lime. Jackson had been a member of AA for over ten years now. Heâd realized he had a drinking problem after his back injury on the job and had luckily sought help and recovered. âHow are the dogs doing?â
âLike theyâve been together forever. How are things here?â
Before I could answer, Nora Evans, the editor of Wine Lovers magazine, pushed past us, wearing a long magenta cape over a burgundy-colored dress, and thigh-high boots, along with Ramsey Black, the head of the East End Wine Council. The three other judges, including one from the New York Wine Council, followed them to the bar.
I quickly texted Simon to tell him that the judges had arrived, and he emerged from his office and hurried downstairs. Moments later, David Farmer and Gerald Parker, the assistant winemaker, exited the tasting room.
But Gerald was scowling. In his late thirties, Gerald had a mop of blond hair and an athletic build and was dressed casually in jeans, a Henley shirt, and flip-flops. He came from Oregon and had moved here to take a job at Vista View Vineyards, now renamed Pure. He said something to David, who reacted by storming off to the bar.
Simon went over to calm David down, then walked over to Nora Evans and the other judges and introduced himself. They chatted for a few minutes,