6. Jacob

He walked through the rows of plants slowly, not really thinking about anything except the movement of his feet. This was the time of year that he always loved, but it wasn't anymore. Now it only reminded him of the hole inside him that he couldn't fill. He used to walk through the rows with Amelia. She would walk in the next row over and occasionally glance coyly in his direction. It was their game; they couldn't walk together until the end of the row, and it was fun to wait. At the end of the row, they would compare the bunches they had chosen and then start again.
He had been walking all morning, and still had no bunches. His arms were clasped behind his back and his head was bent. He shuffled like a cuffed man on death row. It was time and he knew it. He couldn't put it off any longer. He stopped and looked at the bunches in front of him. They hung there heavily, bending under the weight of the fruit. He chose a stem from the middle of the bunch and flinched as he snapped it. He couldn't help but feel like he was snapping himself. He held the bunch in his hand and stared at it for a minute. He could feel something welling up inside him and he had to stop it. He took a deep breath and looked straight into the sun. It pierced his eyeballs and he closed them defensively. After a moment, he let his breath out and continued his death walk. He wandered from vine to vine, choosing small bunches here and there. He wandered like a searcher, but like one who didn't know what they were looking for. He shuffled through the rows for much of the afternoon, and eventually ended up back at the wine barn. His right-hand man Frank was there waiting for him. Frank took the bunches from him and handed him the stack of mail that had arrived a couple of hours before. Ordinarily, this was something Jacob did, but Frank knew he needed a break from the tyrannus ritual that had been obliterated by Amelia's sudden death. Jacob had to start over, and everyone knew it. But how does an old dog start over? Frank glimpsed wetness in the corner of Jake's eye and quickly looked away. He put the grapes in a bucket. "I'll take care of it, Mr. L." Jake nodded and headed toward the office with the stack of mail. Just before he reached the door he stopped and turned back to Frank.
"You'll let me know in the morning, right?"
"Course, Mr. L."
Jake raised his eyes to Frank. "Thanks." Frank knew it was for everything.