Ross got up from the deck. He closed Brad’s journal, went back to the cabin, and put the journal back in its resting place. When he’d seen it fall from her bag, fury had charged through him. Now? There was no such feeling. Actually there was an unusual feeling of calm. Her actions had been wrong, but maybe the outcome could be positive. What was the saying? Time heals all wounds.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
‡
When he arrived his mother was already seated at the dining room table. “You’re late.”
“Sorry, there was traffic.” It wasn’t true, but he wasn’t about to start the night on a bad note. He greeted his mother with a kiss on her forehead.
“What is that all about?” she asked sharply.
Change starts with me. He smiled and chose to ignore her comment. “Hello Father. Hope all is well.”
“Better since you are here. Your mother was beginning to worry you had changed your mind.”
“I’m here now.” The table was meant to seat twelve, but usually there were only the three of them. His mother at one end, his father at the other, leaving him to sit in the middle. Tonight he picked up his place setting and moved it to the vacant spot next to his mother.
“What on earth are you doing?” she asked.
“Dad, could you please come and sit across from me?”
His father looked at him then to his mother. Shrugging, he did as Ross asked. “Son, you are full of surprises today. I take it there is something you wish to discuss with us.”
Discuss . . . ask. “There are a few things I would like to talk about. We can save the deep conversation for after dinner. For now maybe you can tell me how things have been going in the vineyard.”
His parents exchanged puzzled looks, but his father eagerly began rattling off facts regarding new varieties that had been recently released. That much was expected, what took him by surprise was his mother’s full understanding of the financial impact the new varieties were having on their bottom line. Since when did Mother get involved in the business? From the time he was a child she’d avoided anything that resembled business talk.
“As you can see, we are holding our own, but we have encountered our share of challenges,” she said.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the financial hardship you were facing? I could have helped.”
“Roosevelt, you have made it clear you want nothing to do with the winery. So it shouldn’t surprise you we kept the issue to ourselves,” she stated.
“Son, things have turned around. We are back on track. The vineyard is no longer at risk of foreclosure.”
The thought of losing it panicked him. He wasn’t sure why. His mother stated the truth; he’d wanted nothing to do with any of it. But this wasn’t just his home, this was generations of Whitmans, all working hands-on to make Whitman’s Wines a household name. The fact it had been almost defunct and he had been ignorant about it shocked him. He had been so damn foolish. It was time for this behavior to stop. This is my heritage and my future. How have I been so blind?
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help. I should have been and would like to be going forward. If you’ll let me.” He couldn’t believe he was saying the words, but as they left his lips, he knew they were true.
His father sat back in his chair and watched him for a moment. Why should he believe him? For years, he’d never been there for them. “You’re not joking, are you?”
“No, I’m not.”
“You’re a Whitman. This was always meant to be yours someday.”
It wasn’t about wanting it. It was about feeling part of it, connected to the vineyard, to the family. It was going to take a lot more than saying it to make them accept it as truth.
“If you’re saving the deep conversation for after dinner, I’m worried,” his mother said.
As she should be. It was about to get much deeper, much more personal. The business was part of the family legacy, but he needed to understand their life. Why things were the way they were for both his parents and himself. It wasn’t going to be an easy topic to bring up, and the answers might not be what he was hoping for, but all he wanted out of it was truth and closure. Insight. Why am I who I am?
“For now, I would love to hear more about the winery.”
It was an easy distraction, and his father had been waiting many years for this day. A month ago, if anyone said he would be eating dinner with his parents willingly, interested in what was said, he would have told them they’d lost their mind. But time seemed to fly by listening to all they had to say. His father was proud of the family legacy and also with what he had accomplished through his use of technology.
Ross wasn’t sure he would ever have the passion his father had for winemaking, but there was only one way to find out and that was to give it a try. Doesn’t mean I still won’t be a beer drinker.
With dinner complete and the night quickly passing, Ross wasn’t sure he should bring up the more difficult issues he needed clarified. Am I ready? Are they? Would it ruin the easy time they were sharing? Was it going to open up a can of worms that wasn’t his to open? What he wanted to know was why they were still married. They had nothing in common and didn’t appear to love each other. Did being their son give him the right to ask?
The answer was simple: no. But growing up in a home with this dynamic affected him as well. As far as he was concerned, that made it his right.
Sitting down with coffee, Ross opened the topic. Here goes potentially nothing. “There is something I would like to ask you both. It’s not easy to ask, and I’m sure it won’t be easy to answer, but I have my reasons for wanting to know.”
His mother said, “Roosevelt, I’ll answer what I can. What is troubling you?”
For the first time in as long as he could remember, his mother’s tone was soft and gentle. Unexpected. Where was he to start? Should he blurt it out boldly and ask them why they married? No. He didn’t want to come across as judgmental because right now he wasn’t judging them. He only wanted to understand. Maybe they could develop a relationship of some sort, since they never really had one before.
“How long have you been married?” Start slow, easy.
His parents exchanged looks then answered. “It will be thirty-five years next year.”
Okay. Wait a minute. I’m thirty-four. She was pregnant with me when they married. “Was I the reason you two married?” Judging by their surprised, almost angry expressions, he considered how to soften that. He hadn’t meant for the words to be spoken so harshly.
“Roosevelt.” His mother sounded shocked, then turned to his father.
“Son, why are you asking this question now?”
There wasn’t denial, which meant it must be true. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked. “I really only meant to understand how you two came together and why you are still together. It was evident neither of you were happy when I was a child. I’m not sure you’re happy now.”
For the first time in his life, the tears that ran down his mother’s cheeks were not the dramatic “oh, look at me, I want attention” display like usual. They looked like tears of sadness. Heartbreak. She was vulnerable. Not something he knew she could even be. “I’m sorry, Mother, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“It’s okay.” She drew in a ragged breath. “I’m sure your childhood was . . . difficult at times.”
That’s an understatement. “That was a long time ago. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“I think it should be discussed. A topic that has been long overdue.” His father reached over and took his wife’s hand in his. “I was working the vineyard and was what one would call rebellious. This was the last place I’d wanted to be. My friends had all gone away to college, and I’d been left behind. Your mother was also in college but had come home on break when her mother became ill.” His father squeezed her hand gently.
“It was a difficult time for her. We would meet occasionally, both trying to run away from our problems. It was nice to have s
omeone to talk to. Unfortunately her mother, your grandmother, passed at age forty, and your grandfather was shattered. We found out shortly after, that your mother was expecting. Returning to college was no longer an option for her. We talked and decided to get married. She would move to the vineyard with me and your grandparents. Hence the guesthouse.”
This was more complex than he’d envisioned. His father didn’t want to be here? All these years he’d thought Whitman’s Wines had been his father’s dream, all his father had ever wanted. But it wasn’t his father’s dream any more than it was his own. “So, you stayed here because you had to?”
“At first, yes. It was a way for me to provide for my family. But all that changed once you came along. Things became clearer. As I watched my father, I understood he wasn’t growing grapes, but growing a tradition, a family tradition, one I could pass down to my son just as it had been passed down to me.”
“Unfortunately,” his mother started, “I never bonded with this place as your father had. The reason I went away to college was because I wanted the big city life and once your father fell in love with this place, I knew I would never see the city again. At least not the way I’d dreamed I would. Your father and I were crazy for each other when we married. The discontent began when we both started trying to control the other, manipulate the other to get what we wanted instead of discussing the issues. Our issues. We both said many hurtful things and were both too stubborn to ever apologize.”
“But you stayed together. Why?” Ross asked.
“You might not believe this, Roosevelt, but I love your father very much, and I know he loves me, even when I can be . . . difficult at times.”
“I don’t think I have ever heard the word love mentioned in this house before.” Not to him or to each other. How could it be said now, as though it was understood?
“That was our mistake. We spent many years shutting ourselves off from what we didn’t want to deal with, what we didn’t want to discuss. Emotions and feelings weren’t something we shared or even admitted to ourselves,” his father stated.
That explained a lot. If they shut down from each other, how were they going to give a child what he or she needed? It amazed him that, even though they lived in their separate little worlds, they still loved each other. Why didn’t I ever see it before? Maybe it was because no one ever said the words.
Oh God. He could be like them. Jill had kept asking for one thing: say the words. He wouldn’t allow himself. It was eerily similar to his parents. Holding them in was a form of control he’d never been willing to release to anyone. Not even Jill. But why? He cared about her very much, but did he love her? It was such a foreign feeling to him, how would he know?
Dinner with his parents was an eye opener for many things, but it also opened up something else. He wasn’t his parents. He needed to figure out what was truly important to him and why. Putting himself in a box focused solely on success had lost its luster. Reading Brad’s journal and sitting with his parents confirmed that.
He didn’t know exactly where to go from there. It wasn’t something he could answer quickly, but he knew there were going to be some major changes in his life.
“Would you mind if I stayed for a week? I would like to learn more about the business, if that’s okay.”
His father got up from his chair, came around the table, and pulled him into his arms. “Welcome home, son.”
Home. That wasn’t a word he ever associated with this place. Not until today. He looked at his mom, who was a little teary. Had she been holding all this pain and bitterness in for over thirty years? Could tonight’s talk help break apart some of her barriers too? Time would tell. “Mother, do you have any objections?”
What came next shook him to the core. His mother rose from her seat, walked over, wrapped her arms around him as she never had before, and said softly, “Ross, this is your home as much as it is ours. You’re always welcome here.”
Ross? He never thought he would see this day. Coming here was all about him. Understanding himself, but the healing had ripple effects. He was home, with his family, for possibly the first time ever. He wasn’t sure how long this was going to last, but for now he was going to enjoy it. A new beginning. Not only for him, but hopefully for his parents as well.
Chapter Thirty
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Jill was trying to get back into the groove of things but couldn’t. She hadn’t heard from Ross since that awful moment when he’d sent her away. Why should he call me? She’d totally violated his privacy. Whatever was in his journal wasn’t meant for her to read. She understood that before she took it. It was a mistake with a high price to pay. It could have been much worse; he could have called the police and had her arrested. She should be grateful he’d only sent her away. Then why did she feel as though she was in prison? Because her heart felt like it was trapped, unable to escape.
Jill had been able to avoid everyone for the past two weeks. It hadn’t been easy, first faking she had a terrible cold and didn’t want to get any of them sick, then she told them she was taking online classes and working on a project. None of it had any semblance of truth. When did lying become second nature? Guess that is phase two after theft.
She should come clean and tell them what she did; maybe then she wouldn’t feel so damn horrible. Her disappointment in herself was overwhelming. If her sister knew, she’d question Jill’s influence on her children, even more than she did now.
At the time, she knew it wasn’t right, but never had she envisioned such severe repercussions.
Tonight was the end of hiding out. Lizette and Elaine demanded she make time for them, or they were going to invite themselves over. Her apartment looked like it had been hit by a tornado. She had packed and unpacked all her things several times over the last two weeks as she’d debated, stay or go. She didn’t need a lecture on cleanliness with everything else she was dealing with. Thankfully they had agreed to meet at Elaine’s, since Trent was back in Dubai on business. Normally Elaine accompanied him, but the doctor suggested not flying so late in her pregnancy, not even on a private jet. When she’d seen Elaine two weeks earlier, she’d looked about ready to pop. She couldn’t wait to see her now.
Her legs began to shake as she rode the elevator to the penthouse. Hold it together, girl. No one knew, and no one needed to. This time she planned on keeping her big trap shut.
Elaine was there when the doors opened. “I was worried you were going to come up with another lame excuse.”
“Missed you, too.” She gave Elaine a hug. “I’m going to need longer arms if you get any bigger,” Jill teased.
“Can you believe it? Four more weeks. Thank God Lizette’s wedding is in two because I probably wouldn’t be able to fit through a door at this rate, never mind into a dress.” She laughed.
Elaine wasn’t really that huge; she was naturally slender and now carried all her weight in her belly. How she managed to remain upright was beyond Jill.
“You’re going to be beautiful as always, Elaine,” Lizette said from the kitchen.
“Something smells wonderful. What is it?” Jill asked.
“Lasagna and garlic bread. Elaine loves her Italian food.”
“Yes, I do. But you should see some of the strange things I’m eating lately. I had a pickle with peanut butter on it this morning. It was amazing.”
“Glad you didn’t ask me over for breakfast then,” Jill said, laughing. Oh, it feels nice to laugh, to be out. Her friends were at wonderful places in their lives. She was happy for them; who wouldn’t be? They were the kindest, sweetest people she knew and, unlike her, they deserved this joy.
“Come, let’s eat and catch up. It’s been ages since we’ve been together,” Lizette said.
“Not that long. Only a few weeks.”
As she cut and served the lasagna, she added, “Yes, but we haven’t seen you since the blowup with Ross. Jon believes you two have worked things out. Is that true?”
Worked them out, th
en I fucked it up. “We decided it’s better to remain friends. Less complicated that way.”
“It’s always complicated, Jill. You don’t give up on him if you think he is the one,” Lizette added.
Oh, he is my one. I’m just not his. “I’ll keep that in mind. But for now, let’s talk about important things like the wedding. Got cold feet yet?”
“Every day.” Lizette laughed. “Then I see him, and everything is perfect. I would ask you to pinch me to make sure I’m not dreaming, but last time I had a bruise for a week.”
“You just can’t please the girl. She asked for a pinch and has complained ever since,” Elaine teased. “I think it was my hormones acting up that day. Didn’t know my own strength.”
“I’m glad I didn’t ask you to punch me. Everything is set for the wedding. Oh, I forgot to mention we are meeting next weekend for one last get-together before the big day.”
“You do know we are still going to see you all the time? There is only a name change happening, right?” Elaine asked.
“Yes, but come on, you know I like any excuse I can get to cook for you all. Our lives are changing so fast. Before you know it, you’re going to be a mommy and hopefully I will follow closely behind. I was hoping it would have worked out for you and Ross, Jill, so we could all raise our children together. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”
Jill could hear the excitement in Lizette’s voice as she spoke. She was so happy for her, but the pain in her heart was becoming unbearable. She’d had those same dreams and thoughts; she knew they were never going to be a reality.
The Billionaire's Longshot: Betting on You Series: Book Three Page 18