by Nathan Rider
"Well thank God for that discretion. I will talk to Judy again later this morning."
"Okay, you do that." She lowered her voice as she teared up and said, "Gabriel, you know I would never want lose St. Helena to anyone. You know how dear it is to all of us kids. Believe me. Reading those headlines was a shock to me. Mike was sitting next to me when I read them and wanted to kill him. He is the only person to say such things."
"I will, Angie. And I know you wouldn't do that to us. The shock it gave us to hear such a thing was unbelievable. The question had to be asked and answered. I'm sure Nathan feels the same. This coming out of the blue was not the greatest moment. We're scrambling for the right answers now," Gabriel said in a more relaxed voice. " I wish I could say to love Italy and relax as much as you can. For now, I will keep you posted and likewise do the same."
Angeline ended the call with frustrated tears. She knew the dirty life of business was prevalent and against women entrepreneurs at times. The vineyards around the DeLucas were jealous of them but never resorted to this sort of sabotage. Friendly rivalries were the most they had amongst themselves. She wiped her face with a bit of water and walked down the block to Mike.
As they walked the alleyways of Florence and over the Ponte Vecchio, Angeline became agitated. Angry thoughts entered her mind. The thought of Mike using her to get her beloved vineyard was eating her soul. Holding his hand became a chore and grating. Muscles tensed in her arm with wanting to rip him from limb to limb.
How could you do that to me? she thought. Just because he's losing his vineyard?
Mike could feel Angeline was upset. Her gate was shorter as she became more angrier. Her smile since the phone call was gone from her face. She swung his arm with more energy than on the ship. He could feel her nails piercing his skin. They stopped in front of the Basilica for food at the café.
"Are things okay at the Vineyard?," he sincerely asked.
"No. Nothing's okay."
With that the dam burst.
"How could you! How could you do this to me? You think you can charm me out of my favorite place on Earth? Take away my happiness? You effing bastard! Get away from me!," she yelled through her tears.
Mike stood there dumbfounded. The woman he developed a love for was now embarrassing him. She was crying hysterically for no reason at him. He went closer to her to wipe the tears from her face but Angeline would not have it.
"Get Away From Me! NOW!"
With that last outburst of agony on her part, Mike left her as a spectacle amongst the natives and tourists. She ran into one of the shops with the little dignity she had and came out with a scarf/hat combination to hide her public face of the tears stains she had. Her broken heart, her sad face and messed up hair was all she had in walking back to the rendezvous point at the steps of the Santa Croce.
At Sea
After the long trip back to the cruise liner, Angeline dashed for her cabin as if running a marathon. The two vineyard owners had the odor of mutual hatred that permeated their fellow travelers. Tuscany was forever stained, in her mind, of the loss of her vineyard and the man next to her. No love for the green mountains and ancient towers that dotted the region. Her sanctuary of the vineyard was threatened by an outsider trying to take it over.
Safely in her room, she stripped off her clothes and cried under the hot shower water. Her tears of hurt and anger had left her empty inside. The steam fogged the bathroom mirror as she finally decided to lay low for the night. It felt good against her body to feel that she was in a sauna to drain the negative afternoon away. Angeline wiped the mirror to see her reflection. She noticed that her hair was growing longer, as she preferred to have it out of season.
She spent the evening in her room nude, with the exception of letting in the porter bringing her food. For a few hours, at least, she was free of the constraint of clothes and people. Free to feel down about the ruined Florence trip. Free to let her body breathe openly to the fresh air the patio door let in and herself.
The television with the news was going but her empty feeling never left. Angeline looked at her iPad trying to write Gabriel an email about Mike. Talking over the phone would only provoke her anger and make her irrational. She would get as far as "Gabriel: Mike Morgan is an ass" and she would delete it. Other times it started out as a business memo and meander to say, "though I am writing this with no clothes on and with Mediterranean airs of power to crush you all". In the end, she told Gabriel and Nathan that she made an ass of herself and do not expect any more merger talk from Excelsior.
After checking on a couple emails from Gabriel and Moniqa, Angeline slipped into her bikini and robed herself for the walk up to the hot tubs. Since it was 9:30, and with everyone having dinner or drinking in the restaurants, there was not a soul in sight. She undone her robe and slowly waded the steps down to feel the heat and sweat drip off her.
She looked up at the cloudless sky and searched for a constellation above Orion's Belt she felt an affinity to. Though small and sometimes hard to see, the slingshot-like grouping gave her peace in meditation. When she felt troubled and sad, she would walk out into the fields to find it. She would express herself to it as if talking to her father.
She rested her head on the edge of the hot tub and thought: Mom. Dad. I hope you are seeing how things are going at the vineyard and approving of it. We survived as a family after you gone but feel the loss still. We miss you for the encouragement you gave us. Mom helped out and we miss her too when she died. This merger with Excelsior was not right in the way it was going. You knew of Mike Morgan and his management style. It would have divided and killed us as a family.
Right now I don't know what to do. I'm scared. The Family is scared. We don't want to lose St. Helena. Us kids are as protective of it as you were. It's our blood we as a family left on this soil. Our sweat that nourished the grapes to grow. Please, Dad. Please. Tell me what we are doing as a family is the right course.
As she finished her plea, tears of sorrow came to her eyes. She missed her parents so much. As Angeline wiped her eyes, a mother and her son walked up the stairs and into the tub.
Oh great! Something to kill my mood.
The boy, settled on the step inside the tub, looked to his mom and said, "Mommy, which star is daddy at?"
The mother considered for a moment. She then pointed and said, "He is there. Looking down on you right now."
Angeline realized that she was pointing to the same group of stars.
Everyone's dad seems to be there.
Marseille, France
The Sea Dreams made port of Marseille the next morning under some grey clouds. The weather report for the area was warm temperatures but the chance for rain was ever present. Angeline was feeling better about her chances and wore a sun dress so as to not feel hot when the temperatures did spike. She did bring her umbrella for that one chance it would pour. With her floppy hat, she boarded the coach to Avignon and then Orange. In Orange, she planned on getting environmental and cash saving ideas for the vineyard at the Chateau. Moniqa planned this as a mixed business/pleasure when she had read the outline for the French vineyard.
Paul surprised Angeline by being on the tour to Avignon. He was not impressed much with Italy but France was a bucket list item for him. Together they walked the town to the different shops on the boulevard hand in hand. The delicious chocolates and crepes at the shoppes in the alleyways called to them with their aroma. They walked up the hill to see the Palais des Papes summer house across the river Rhone and the Pont Saint-Bénézet bridge that crossed halfway.
The weather held up until lunchtime in Avignon. The square, which the group was to meet back at, offered cafes and shelter for the couple. Eating pasta and shrimp lunch under a tree, they both gazed at the scene of the water and umbrellas lighting up the gloom. She set her lunch down on the concrete vase and pulled her iPad out for her picture of Avignon. The wet brown brick and concrete. Dark rain clouds. Indecipherable French language A-frames advertis
ing their foods. The clock tower at the end of the boulevard. Teens huddling under umbrellas with the cafes on one side and the Hotel and Theatre on the other.
This is France.
Orange, France
The fifteen minute ride to the Chateau in Orange gave Angeline time to dry her dress. The rain poured from the sky as the tourists ran from covered tunnel to covered tunnel. The quick break from the shower gave the group enough time to reach the bus before the next downpour began. Her dress was not too sodden to give people an idea of her package. Paul pulled off his coat for her to cover her dress but it was too late. The smiles from her fellow passengers was enough to tell her that they loved her choice of underwear color.
With the expanse of the vineyards passing by, Angeline imagined her home vineyard being so beautiful. The rock that covered the individual rows of grapes caught her eye along with the beauty of a French countryside. The green leaves, ruddy ground and skinny stalks reminded her of her own love for the land and product she worshipped. The hills in the background with vines upon them made her appreciate her small world of St. Helena even more than ever.
The group met above the factory floor. Each person walked into the room and gazed below to the conveyor belts and other machinery that produced the wine. The fermenter was idled with it being out of season. The loud process of the love for wine was quiet.
"Welcome to the Château-Neuf. My name is Luc Gaillard. I spend six years at University to be what is called a wine snob. Yes, there are actual classes so you can have this wonderful position of tasting wine all day. I will direct you through our establishment and give a course in fine wine tasting," the guide said in introducing himself.
Paul looked at her and said," Hey there. Something up your alley."
"Yes it is. I'm trying to keep calm and not seem like an idiot knowing as much as he does. Professional courtesy."
Angeline was glad the group was large enough to hide. Paul and Angeline had stationed themselves at the back for that purpose. She did wish that she was a Jedi to make her presence smaller. At times she did want to blurt out what she knew but held herself down.
"If you had noticed the fields coming up to the House that it is covered with white rock over the vines. The rock is Alpine that we imported for a purpose. During the hot summer they trap the heat so that the winter months the vines are kept warm. The soil then traps the rainwater that during the hot summer months it pushes up the water as it dries. Every row of this 7000 acres of white grapes is environmentally sound. We work with the soil. No pesticides like they have in other countries," he said proudly.
This astounded Angeline. Being able to cut costs on water and fans to keep their livelihood alive peaked her. The group that Luc lead filed down to a room called The Cavern. Here the casks and tasting room were along with other souvenirs were sold. In the middle of the room were five long tables with a cloth over them.
Luc went on to demonstrate and explain how taste wine. He talked about the tastes added to the wines, such as chocolate or a light spice. Angeline did her best in following instructions like the rest. She poured a little wine into the flute. Rolled it around in the glass and put her nose up to smell. Paul faked it with a bit of tongue swishing and downing it in a gulp.
"Silly man you are. You have to try to be a snob here," she laughed.
"I'm sorry but I will not be a snob with good alcohol in my glass," he said with a smirk on his face.
The Cavern
The group broke up into exploring the Cavern shop. Paul and Angeline viewed prices per carton to ship home and signed up for the List. From nowhere, a gentleman from the Vineyard tapped Angeline on the shoulder and said," Mademoiselle, we found a piece of identification that might belong to you. Will you please come with me to be sure it is yours?"
Angeline nodded okay and started to leave when Paul asked if he should come along. The gentleman gave Paul the evil eye as she said she could handle it herself. She was dreading this moment. Did they think she was trying to ruin them somehow? Or didn’t like to see a competitor in with a flock of tourists?
As they returned to the observation room where the tour began, Angeline noticed Luc and another gentleman waiting for them. The older gentleman gave a slight bow and a toothy smile. Though not quite 5 foot 5 inches, the old Frenchman stood erect and gave no sign of weakness for his old age.
"Miss DeLuca-," Luc began.
"Angeline, please."
"Angeline then. This is Monsieur Trottier with the Board that owns Château- Neuf since its inception in 1932. Though the grapes go farther back in history, the Château takes pride in the grapes grown in this modern world. The ancient rivalries of the Spaniards. The Roos and Mongrels in the Americas and Australia. All these are tempered with how these individuals show their love for our common denominator of fine wines and love of the soil. The Board, with its age, are familiar with vineyards around the world by reputation. They are still skeptical of the new money that care only for the profit of a vineyard and not the life of it. But that will change, too, with time."
"And I'm here because M. Trottier is showing his skepticism?" she asked.
"No. He is here to meet you in person. He had met your father on one of his business trips to California. He is also familiar with a neighboring owner of yours, a Mister Morgan. The two vineyards had made an impression on him on his visit. So he made it a practice to keep an eye on the ownership and help out when in position. Your brothers were not sure of the Monsieur so they gave wide berth of our help."
"I am at a loss as to why this meeting is happening, if you pardon the disbelief. I did expect to be questioned as to why I came here. It was part of my cruise tour itinerary and to pick up tips for St. Helena," Angeline said in a defensive way.
" Mme. Angeline, please do not take offense. That is not the reason. We have come to hear rumors about your neighbor, Excelsior Vineyards with Mr. Morgan, and a merger with St. Helena. If there is any legal help or production costs that might be prohibitive, please contact us. There are questions as to the length of the contract with Mr. Morgan to stay on after the merger. Since this has not been released to the public, we tried not to speculate too much to avoid interference on our part," Luc said.
"M. Trottier. Luc. Thank you for your concern with my St. Helena. As for the merger, it's dead and never was. A complication came up that hurt our negotiations. With that, Mr. Morgan and I are not merging. As for the vineyards, any speculation is just that. Rumors fly faster than truth these days," she said.
With that, she thanked the Frenchmen for the impromptu business meeting. She kissed the cheeks of M. Trottier and shook Luc's hand. Before turning her back on them, Angeline said," M. Trottier, I am glad that you met my father and mother. We cried and cried when they died. We as a family have missed Him and Mom. I will not be like my brothers and turn down your offers of future help. If my father left that much of an impression with you, I cannot turn you away."
Luc translated this and M. Trottier smiled with his wide grin of appreciation. In French, he told Luc that she had her father's heart as Angeline left the men in the observation room.
"M. Trottier, I picked up a resentment when Mr. Morgan was mentioned. Then she said they were not merging and the grapes separately. Do you think they had a falling out over a marriage proposal?", Luc asked in French.
"Luc, we are the outsiders here between Mr. Morgan and Ms. DeLuca and can only speculate. Seeing our future is in speculation, I would say the two must communicate better before we see a mutual merger of hearts."
The tour bus was late to the port of Marseilles. The news called it the Perfect Storm with a traffic accident, bank holiday, and a monster concert happening in the City. The accident between the Citroën and the SUV backed up the E80 highway, so the driver detoured through Aix-de-Provence to reach the cruise ship. The tour operator droned about the area being home to Cezanne and his works.
But for Angeline, she could not concentrate on the green hills or the peace it offered.
The meeting at Orange shook her up with the mention of Mike's name. Paul tried comfort her along the way but she was inconsolable. The longer it took for them to reach the ship the more she fretted about wanting to confront Mike. She emailed and texted Gabe about her impromptu meeting with M. Trottier. She was upset that he could have helped but at the same time respected keeping a foreign influence from her place.
Paul was even more upset with Angeline. She said it was because they found out her profession and talked to her with no respect. But he suspected more than that. No matter how hard she tried he could see the tear stain on her cheeks. He tried to comfort with a hug and was rejected. He spied her emails and text but caught a few words that made no sense to him.
What is wrong with her?
Last Cruise Dinner
Being the last night on the cruise, Angeline dressed in a flashy dress she bought in Rome. The neckline did not plunge but did reveal a side boob. The hem line was below her knees for a modest and smart look. Her hair was wafted into perfection with the time spent in front of the mirror. Makeup and lipstick done to her perfection.
All this after asking Paul to dinner. Her heart wanted to get to know him more than a couple tours. Her emotions during the bus ride home had subsided. Having Mike's name mentioned stirred her up more revulsion for him. She had asked for forgiveness before they split up to their respected rooms. She told him that going to the Château was a mistake and should not have taken it out on him.
Showing the world Paul with a necklace that sparkled for all to see, they walked together into the dining room. Not able to have a private table they walked with the server to a table in the Stern. The wide window had a view of the fading lights of the French cities. Sitting there were Amy and Kathy, the Buquette's, and another older couple that joined after them. Angeline gave Kathy a smirk in reminding her of the last meal together.
Hopefully it won't that bad this time, she thought. As the thought was finished, the older couple went into a dinner prayer for all to hear. Darcy let out a muffled sigh as Mr. Buquette fiddled with his eating utensils. Amy and Kathy once again in disbelief.