“Our equipment is malfunctioning and outdated. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. The public relations team is on permanent leave. We’re behind on production—”
“I’m doing the best I can,” Corinne hissed. “You think it was easy to be handed a burned-out vineyard along with divorce papers? It wasn’t. I’m sorry it’s not up to your standards, Julian.” He started to argue that he wasn’t blaming anyone, let alone her, but his mother wasn’t finished. “Do you know I have to attend a luncheon next week in his honor? It’s the twentieth anniversary of the Napa Valley Association of Vintners being formed, which I’ll admit has done a lot of good in the region. He might be their founding father, but he’s not even here! This place is falling into disrepair, and yet they want to celebrate the glory days. Your father trailblazed a path to them lining their pockets. They don’t care that he abandoned this place and his family. He’s still their hero. And I’m . . .”
“You’re the one that kept the doors open, despite it all. I’m not blaming you for the decline. Please, I wouldn’t do that. I’m asking . . .”
In the back of his mind, he could hear his father’s voice echoing through the vines. You’ve always been a fucking head case, haven’t you? Jesus Christ. Look at you. Pull yourself together. Stick to teaching and just . . . stay away from what I’ve built, all right?
Stay away from the vineyard.
Whether his father’s assessments were true or not, he wasn’t leaving his family to carry their burdens alone anymore. His father was gone. Julian was there. He could do something. “I’m asking to help, Mother. I know I’m not necessarily welcome—”
“Not welcome?” Corinne shook her head. “You’re my son.”
His throat muscles felt stiff. “I’m referring to what happened. And I understand if my input makes you uncomfortable, but frankly, that’s too bad. You’re getting it, anyway.”
Corinne made a small sound, burying her face in her hands a moment. Just when Julian assumed she was working up the courage to ask him to remain detached from the business, she came forward with open arms and embraced him. For several seconds, he could only stare dumbfounded at his sister before she, too, came forward and wrapped her arms around both him and Corinne. “I did not have this on today’s bingo card,” Natalie sniffed.
“I’m sorry. To both of you.” Apparently having reached her capacity for emotional displays, Corinne shifted free of the group hug. “It has been a long four years. I just . . . I never wanted either of you to feel unwelcome in your own home. You might have noticed I have a hard time admitting I need help. Or even . . . company.”
“Well, you’ve got it now,” Natalie crowed, hoisting her flask. “I’m never leaving!”
“Let’s not get carried away,” Corinne said, smoothing the sleeve of her dress.
Julian needed more time to process the revelations of the last five minutes. For now, he needed a distraction from the growing notch in his sternum. Remembering the small box stuffed into his jacket pocket, Julian removed the object, holding it out to Corinne. “This is only a small start, but I thought we could hand these out tonight at our table.”
Corinne shied away from the white box like it might contain a garter snake. “What is it?”
“Business cards. For Corked on Grapevine Way.” The two women stared at him in expectant silence. “There is a new wineshop next door giving the owner, Lorna, some competition. I thought we could send some business her way. In the process, we’re giving people an incentive to buy our wine. Here, look.” He flipped open the top. “It’s a small discount on Vos wine. Nothing major. But it’s a first step toward selling the stock currently on shelves and making way for the new vintage. Wholesale orders will remain low until we clear what’s already there—and there’s a lot. Let’s get the money we need to make this place whole again. It won’t be restored overnight, but we have the framework, and that’s half the battle.”
His mother and sister traded an eyebrow raise.
“What brought this on?” asked Corinne while examining a business card. “Have you secretly been wanting to help all this time?”
Hallie. Making her happier. “Obviously, I don’t have a stake in the situation. I just . . .” Breathe easier when there is less of a chance of our gardener crying. “Thought it could look good for the vineyard. You know, one local business helping another.”
Though visibly skeptical, Corinne finally took the box and removed the top, sighing at what she revealed. “Well, at least they’re not tacky.”
“Thank you,” said Julian, briskly.
“Wait. Did you design business cards for a local retail shop?” He nodded, prompting his sister to continue. “And you’re getting secret admirer letters.” Natalie looked down at the metal container in her hand. “I need to get out more.”