Page 32 (1/2)

1PeytonSixteen years, five months and twenty-seven days

That was how long it had been since I’d gotten into the summer intensive in New York City and left Lubbock, Texas, behind forever for the sprawling, bustling world of professional ballet I never thought sixteen years, five months, and twenty-seven days later that I would be back in Lubbock Not for any dance-related reason at least

“Peyton, over here!” My sister, Piper, waved enthusiastically as I stepped through the revolving door with ht to my side

“Pipes!” I called, dashing through the crowd as if it were New York City streets

“Don’t call me that,” Piper cried She threw her arms around me but not before I saw her roll her eyes

“Someone has to keep you on your toes”

“Ugh! And here I thought, I was happy to have my sister home for the holiday season”

I released her with a laugh, pressing back one of my loose curls into the braided bun at my head “You are happy”

“Yeah, yeah,” Piper said, ignoring her own brown hair

She’d gotten lucky with our ht hair would have been much easier than e All of our aunts and uncles had hair like ht hair would have been better for ballet buns

“Let’s go get your luggage”

“I’estured to , which currently contained a dozen new pointe shoes, an equal nuh tape wrap, toe pads, and sewing h a season of The Nutcracker

Piper eyedother than dance while you’re here, right?”

“Not if I can help it,” I said with a smile

“All right, fiiine,” Piper gruo, seester”

We exited the Lubbock airport and stepped out into the dry, arid clirown up in the ood at disabusing people of their biases about what Lubbock was like No, it was not technically a “small town” Unless you considered three hundred thousand people small Sht of when they heard the words small town Yes, we had cowboys, but it was really just a city like anywhere else People wore their hats, boots, and pressed jeans as their Sunday best, but no one was riding their horses into town Okay, only that one time, and everyone had taken pictures because it eird, y’all Fine, most of the toas a cotton field and as flat as a pancake, but it was still home Tumbleweeds and all

We reached Piper’s blue Jeep, as bright as a spotlight in the sea of black and white trucks The words Sinclair Cellars were plastered on the side

“How’s the winery?” I asked, dus into the back

“As excellent as ever Dad thinks we’re going to have a new vintage this year, a specialty blend that’s going to win us awards” Piper beamed

When I was little, the only thing that I’d known other than ballet was the vineyards at Sinclair Cellars Our dad had worked there his entire life, starting at the lowest job andall the way up to the top So, when Ray Sinclair finally decided to retire, my dad had taken over His kids still weren’t particularly pleased