The Winemakers

by Jan Moran

  “I can read,” she snapped, her blood pressure rising. “How dare you intrude upon my goodwill and hospitality to serve me with legal documents. You, sir, are a man without manners.”

  Frowning in discomfort, he replied, “Ava, I honestly wish it hadn’t come to this. Please have an attorney review these and advise you. Luca means business. He thought he was going to receive an inheritance from his mother, or at least a continuance of support from the estate, but he did not. His own mother passed him over in favor of your daughter.”

  “That’s because Violetta was a wise woman. Caterina is more deserving. She won’t squander her inheritance.” At the thought of her daughter, Ava’s despair deepened.

  Russell wiped beads of perspiration from his upper lip. “Surely you can understand and be reasonable.”

  “No. I cannot.” Her heart pounding with anger and indignation, Ava drew herself up from her chair. “What I understand is that Luca nearly killed me. Everyone in town saw my bruises, but no one offered to help me then, including you. I found this property, and the money that my father and mother and their ancestors toiled for went to its purchase. Furthermore, I have spent the last two decades building it to what it is today. What did Luca do in the interim years? Clearly, nothing.”

  Russell struggled wearily to his feet. “Ava, he’s still your husband. Maybe I can negotiate a settlement. You can sell Mille Étoiles and divide the profits. I think I can get him to be reasonable.”

  She gave a bitter laugh. “After he throws bricks through my windows and accosts me on the street? No, I will not negotiate with a man who deals in intimidation. Nor his representative. The answer is no.”

  Ava walked to the front door and opened it. “Luca will never set foot on Mille Étoiles, and that’s final. Good day, Russell.”

  * * *

  Later that evening, Ava and Raphael sat down to supper on the patio overlooking the vineyards. The evening breeze brought cool ocean air. Nina had prepared a supper of tomato basil soup, pasta, salad, and baguettes for them before she left to see Juliana.

  Raphael poured olive oil onto a plate and sprinkled fresh oregano on it. “Did you speak to your lawyer today?” He broke the bread and dipped it into the oil and then served it to Ava.

  “I did.” She’d told him about Russell’s visit that morning before leaving for Napa. She filled his wineglass with one of their red wines. “Since I won’t settle, the case will go to trial.”

  “Can’t imagine folks wouldn’t be on your side, Ava.”

  “It’s nice to think that, but the deed is still in Luca’s name. As angry as I am, the law is quite clear. My lawyer imparted the facts to me this afternoon. As much as I argued, even I could see that the scales of justice are not tipped in my favor.”

  “Is there any chance a ruling might go in your favor?”

  She cast her eyes down, stricken with despair. “I’m told the best I can hope for is that the property will be sold and divided.”

  Raphael asked, “How long until the trial?”

  “My lawyer said it would be soon.” Ava gazed over the vineyard that might be lost to her forever. She knew the property like a mother knows her child. Her eyelids grew heavy with fatigue. Even with her eyes closed, she could conjure every gnarled vine, every hillside slope, every slanting ray of sun, every path of the evening breeze.

  With difficulty, she raised her face to Raphael and tried to appear stronger than she was. The thought of starting again, even with Raphael by her side, was utterly overwhelming.

  She cleared her throat to speak. “This is my home, my life. Our life. Raphael, I don’t want to leave Mille Étoiles.”

  Raphael tilted her chin up and dabbed her glistening eyes with his handkerchief. “If it comes to that, we’ll find another property and start over together.”

  She met his warm brown eyes and smiled through her anguish. Reaching a trembling hand to her wine, she swirled and sipped, thinking about the night she and Luca had fought. “Merci, mon amour.” She kissed Raphael on the cheek. What a good, kind man he is. And so much more.

  Without hesitation, Raphael turned in to meet her lips and drew a hand along her cheek. When they finally drew apart, Ava could hardly catch her breath. For years she’d wondered what it would be like to kiss him. What a fool I’ve been to wait. In just a moment, the darkness of her world was splintered with a ray of hope. With aching need unreleased, she ran her hands through his hair and pulled him to her again.

  “Mmm,” Raphael murmured. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this, amore mio?”

  “As long as I have. And it was far too long.”

  An unspoken vow passed between them. He held her in his arms, offering his comfort and love without reserve and caressing her skin with utmost tenderness. “Sei la mia anima gemella.”

  She touched his forehead with her own. Never had she felt such a connection. Certainly not with Luca. “And you’re my soul mate, too.”

  29

  SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA

  Juliana’s eyes flashed with excitement as the red-capped airport porter hoisted Caterina’s luggage into her trunk. “Tell me all about your trip before we get to Mille Étoiles. I can’t wait to hear more about the wine competition.”

  Caterina hugged her friend. She’d called Juliana instead of Santo to meet her at the airport because she wanted to speak to her mother before she determined how to proceed with Santo.

  She tipped the porter and slid into the front seat with Marisa, who was rubbing her eyes from her long nap on the airplane. It had been an arduous journey on the Boeing 377 Stratocruiser, first from Rome to New York and then from New York to San Francisco. Though it had been strenuous—Marisa was cranky much of the way until she mercifully fell asleep—the most stressful part was yet to come. Would Ava truly welcome them home?

  “I’m glad we have a long drive to Napa to talk.” Caterina wore her gray traveling suit and had dressed Marisa in a pink-and-green seersucker dress she’d bought at a children’s shop in Paris. She wanted her little girl to look special for her first meeting with her grandmother. She brushed wrinkles from Marisa’s pretty cotton dress.

  Juliana started the engine. “I want to hear everything.” As she pulled into traffic, Marisa bobbed her head at the window, wide-eyed at the other cars whizzing past.

  Caterina told Juliana about Giovanna and the reading of the will. “And then I went to Paris for the competition.” Her time in Paris had been like a precious dream she would hold in her heart forever, but one that might dissipate in the stark light of day if examined too closely.

  “And?” Juliana arched an eyebrow and looked as if she would burst.

  “Santo and I had a wonderful time, but we have a lot of things to work out first.” She couldn’t bring herself to tell Juliana about the possibility that Luca might have fathered Santo until she knew more. And obtaining that information would be dangerous. “I didn’t realize how much I would miss him after he left.” Without Santo, it was as if her soul had withered.

  Juliana slid a sharp look toward Caterina. “How do you think your mom will take the little one this time?”

  “She sounded different on the phone. I found some letters she’d written years ago. Those letters revealed a chilling past I never knew existed. Whatever she did, she did with good intentions.” Caterina told her about what she’d learned about her father.

  “That’s incredible. I’m so sorry, Cat.” Juliana shook her head. “But I have good news. While you were trotting around the globe and winning awards, your mother and I have been working hard.”

  “Doing what?”

  “You have no idea what happened, do you?” Juliana laughed. “If it’s any consolation, the last few days have been unbelievable. When you called me from Paris, you told me you met a reporter for The New York Times at the competition. Well, guess what? She immediately wrote an article about the event for the newspaper highlighting the Mille Étoiles win, and holy cow, the phone started ringing. Your mom a
nd I have been on the phone nonstop.”

  “What?”

  “That’s right.” Juliana winked at her. “Your plan worked. Mille Étoiles ain’t dead yet. And neither are you.”

  “That’s wonderful. I’m so relieved. It’s a beginning, at least.” A speck of hope warmed Caterina’s chest. She glanced at Juliana, who was blushing and fidgeting. “Okay, Jules, what else do you have to report?”

  “I met someone.” Juliana wiggled in her seat with excitement. “His name is Henry, and he has a vineyard up valley.”

  “Really? What’s he like?”

  “He’s such a sweetheart.” She shot a look at Caterina. “He’s a widow with two little children. But he’s not Mexican, so he’ll really have to work to win over my mother.”

  “Then it’s serious?”

  “I really like him a lot. He’s not Al, but he’s pretty special.” Juliana raised her brow. “But I still don’t know about this whole marriage thing.”

  “Have you told your mom anything?”

  “Are you kidding? That can wait.”

  Caterina laughed. She could just imagine what Nina would have to say.

  Juliana turned into the long entry to Mille Étoiles and drove past the gate that bore the star-studded grapevine logo. Having just returned from France and Italy, Caterina was struck anew by the appearance of Mille Étoiles. The architecture really did resemble some of the châteaux she’d seen traveling through France to Paris.

  Her mother had tried to re-create the life she’d once known and loved. Caterina now understood her penchant for pâté over hot dogs, brioche over biscuits. As they neared the front entrance, Caterina spotted Ava. Her hair was swept from her face, and she wore her vineyard work clothes—pressed blue dungarees cuffed at the ankle and a crisp white cotton shirt. She looked chic with a red bandanna tied around her neck at a jaunty angle. Only Ava could make ordinary work clothes look so stylish.

  Juliana eased her large Chevrolet sedan to a stop in front of the house. “I’ll go around the back and find my mother. I want to keep out of the line of fire, just in case.”

  “Chicken,” Caterina said, teasing her.

  Juliana laughed. “She’s your mother, not mine. Mine’s bad enough. Now that she knows about Marisa, she’s been pestering me about babies.”

  Caterina straightened Marisa’s pink hair ribbon and scooped the little girl into her arms. She could feel Marisa’s little heartbeat pounding like a hummingbird’s in her chest; her own heart mirrored the rapid rhythm. Ava might have approved of her return, but it didn’t mean she wouldn’t have tough questions.

  “Welcome back, ma chérie,” Ava called out. She tented a hand against the high summer sun to shade her eyes.

  “Hello, Maman.”

  Ava took a tentative step toward her.

  As Caterina approached, she could see turmoil etched on Ava’s face. A moment later she stood face-to-face with her mother, though Ava said not a word. Marisa reached out and touched Ava’s bright red bandanna and cooed with curiosity.

  At that, Ava burst out sobbing and flung her arms around the two of them, and soon Caterina was crying with relief, too.

  When they finally went into the house, Ava sank onto the sofa in the living room and patted a spot beside her. “You should have told me sooner, chérie.”

  “I knew how you’d react,” Caterina said, clutching Marisa as she sat down. “And I was ashamed to tell you.”

  Ava shook her head with sorrow. “Forgive me for being unapproachable.”

  “I do, but I wish I’d known about my father.”

  “That’s fair. I should have told you sooner. But he’s such an evil man, Caterina. I didn’t want to hurt you, and I didn’t know if you would understand.”

  “I do now. I found some letters you wrote years ago to Giovanna. You went through so much with him. You did what you had to do.”

  Ava gulped a breath. “I decided it was better to lie to you, to construct a story of a loving father who’d died in an accident, than to tell you the truth—or worse, to let him have any contact with you. I became overprotective, determined that you would not make the same mistakes I had. I admit it was wrong of me, but at the time, it made sense.”

  Caterina pressed a hand against her forehead and then wiped her hand against her gray skirt as if to rub off the memory of her father. “I’m glad I know now, Maman.”

  Caterina fell silent, remembering the stories her mother had told over the years. She thought of how her mother had reacted to the news of her inheritance. The mysteries of her childhood and her mother’s actions made more sense to her now.

  Ava stroked Marisa’s fine curls. “May I hold her?” Caterina handed Marisa to her, and Ava hugged the little girl to her breast as Marisa smiled up at her. “She’s an angel,” Ava murmured. “What beautiful eyes she has.” She inclined her head, as if trying to recall a memory.

  Caterina held her breath. Could she see Santo in Marisa’s eyes?

  Ava shook her head and went on, “For years I was worried you’d have the same difficulty conceiving that I did. I never wanted you to go through that.” As Ava gazed down at Marisa, her lashes were feathered with moisture, and a smile lit her face.

  Questions still burned in Caterina’s mind. She had to know more. “What happened to your first child, Maman?”

  “Oh, my poor baby.” Ava cast her eyes heavenward and sighed. “Luca came home drunk one hot summer evening in Italy, and I asked him where he had been. It angered him, and he hit me.”

  Caterina rubbed her temples. “Were you injured?”

  “I suffered a head injury, and I lost the baby. I was devastated. Luca stormed off, so Violetta nursed me through that agonizing evening. Later, Luca never believed I had lost the baby. He actually convinced himself I wasn’t pregnant and I had tricked him into marriage.”

  Her mother had never shared this part of her life before. Imagining her as a frightened teenager in a foreign country made Caterina’s heart go out to her. She had to ask, “Why did you stay with him?”

  “By being pregnant before marriage, I had already committed one grave sin. I was determined to make the marriage work. In the beginning, I was in love—or thought I was. If I divorced, I couldn’t marry in the church again. I’d always dreamed of having a large family.” Marisa grasped Ava’s finger, and she smiled at the little girl. “I had a long talk with the priest about it.”

  Caterina listened, wondering what she would have done. It was easy to think of oneself as being brave in a situation as long as the troubles belong to another. Here she was, a mother who had hid her child for fear of what? Being disowned? Being judged? It hardly compared to the terror her mother had lived through.

  “I know about Natalie and Franco. Santo’s parents.”

  Ava asked softly, “Do you know how they died?”

  “I do.”

  “Natalie was beautiful, but she was frail of health.” Ava’s eyes held a faraway look, and she rocked Marisa in her arms. “I didn’t know it when I married your father, but Luca had always been in love with Natalie.”

  “Mama, Mama, Mama,” Marisa said, waving her hands.

  Caterina leaned back, a single question burning in her mind. Did her mother know the truth of Santo’s parentage? Or had she only heard the rumors? Caterina passed a hand over her face. Only Luca could answer that question.

  Ava seemed relieved to have unburdened herself of her long-buried secrets. She looked up at Caterina and smiled sadly—a good, true smile that Caterina had seldom seen growing up. But there was more in her mother’s eyes; it was the strange calm of forgiveness Caterina had once thought alien to Ava’s constitution. She had truly accepted Marisa.

  They were a family again. Caterina placed a hand over her mother’s, but she was surprised to feel her quivering. It wasn’t just their conversation that had upset Ava; Caterina detected something more. She pressed on. “Have you heard from Luca again?”

  Fear flashed in Ava’s eyes.

&nbs
p; Caterina’s heart beat faster. “Has he tried to hurt you again?”

  “He threw a brick with a note attached to it through the window.” Ava squeezed Caterina’s hand. “It was a warning to leave Mille Étoiles.”

  Caterina widened her eyes. “We’re not going to, are we?” When Ava didn’t respond, she gazed around the room. This was their home.

  “He has filed suit to take over Mille Étoiles. But we will not leave without a fight. Raphael has men guarding the property.”

  “How did this happen?”

  Ava furrowed her brow. “The short version? Luca’s name is on the deed, not mine. But it was my money, and we’ve made Mille Étoiles the success it is today. Not him. But should we lose, we’ll have a chance to rebuild elsewhere, thanks to your win in Paris.” Ava managed a brave smile.

  Caterina saw worry on her mother’s face. Luca wanted vengeance, and he’d stop at nothing. Which did he care more about—claiming Mille Étoiles or seeing Ava suffer? He was much more dangerous than she’d thought.

  A chilling portent seized Caterina.

  30

  NAPA VALLEY, CALIFORNIA

  Ava parked her car around the corner from a children’s shop in Napa, glancing nervously around her for signs of Luca as she hurried into the boutique.

  Raphael had found Caterina’s old baby crib in the attic, and Caterina had brought a few outfits and toys with her, but Ava knew her new granddaughter needed so much more. She purchased several sets of bedding, a half dozen summer outfits, and a few toys and stuffed animals she couldn’t resist. And why not? she thought proudly, forcing her thoughts from Luca. I’m her grandmother.

  While the clerk wrapped her purchases, Ava strolled around the shop. She stopped in front of a mirror to adjust the narrow belt on the full-skirted ivory linen sundress she wore. When she’d bought it in San Francisco, the salesclerk had assured her it didn’t look too young for her. She loved it, but she didn’t want to look ridiculous.