Josie
Forty
By the time I finish in the vines, I’m exhausted. My shirt has molded to my back. My hands are stained. Sticky residue coats my arms despite the gloves, and all I can think about is a shower and something cold to drink.
The last two days have been nearly impossible.
Everywhere I turn, someone is talking about Evie’s will.
Local news stations have picked it up. Wine industry blogs are dissecting it.
Social media has decided our family drama is public entertainment.
Apparently, disinheriting most of your family and creating a legal nightmare makes for excellent headlines.
Even dead, Evie is making our lives miserable.
I walk down the hill to my cottage as the late-afternoon sun hangs low over the vineyard, casting long shadows across the rows.
My muscles ache from working nonstop the past couple days as I try to outrun everything else that feels unsteady in my life, and for a moment I allow myself to believe I might actually make it to my shower before dealing with anyone.
That fantasy dies the moment I spot Ric and Sera sitting on the shared patio between our homes. Neither of them looks relaxed. A half-finished pitcher of something sits on the table between them, along with three glasses.
I stop at the edge of the patio and sigh.
“Can this wait twenty minutes?” I ask. “I smell like a compost pile.”
“No.” Sera doesn’t even glance up. She reaches for one of the glasses, fills it, and slides it across the table toward the empty chair. The drink is bright pink and loaded with ice. It’s her Bellinis.
“I haven’t even showered,” I protest.
“You’ll survive.”
“I’ve been outside since sunrise.”
“Sit,” Ric says. “Please.”
Resigned, I drop into the chair and reach for the cocktail. The glass is cold against my palms. I take a long swallow and immediately decide Sera has made the right choice. Showering can probably wait another ten minutes while I drink this.
For a moment nobody speaks. Then Ric sits up straighter. “I never wanted any of this.”
Sera says nothing.
Ric shakes his head. “I didn’t want her money. I didn’t want her property. I didn’t want any of this responsibility.”
“I know,” I say softly. “I believe you.”
He lets out a breath and rubs a hand across the back of his neck. “I spent years making it clear to her that you two deserved the vineyard. No one else.” Ric looks from me to Sera and then back again. “There’s something I need to tell you both.”
His expression wipes away any lingering thoughts of showers, dinner, or sleep.
Ric shakes his head. “If I had to do it again, I’d do exactly the same thing.
But I’ve been talking with the lawyers and accountant, and I think there’s a way forward.
Once the estate clears probate—assuming the courts allow it and assuming none of the challenges succeed—my intention is to transfer the vineyard to you two.
I don’t want you to work for me. I want you to own it, do what you want. ”
Neither Sera nor I speak.
“But you should know that probate could drag on forever. There will probably be lawsuits. Creditors may appear. The estate is complicated. Nothing moves quickly.”
“How long?” Sera asks.
Ric exhales. “Knowing our family, it will probably take years. So I don’t want either of you making plans around it,” he continues. “I need you to understand the reality, but I want you to know what I intend.”
Everything inside me is reshuffling. For two days I’ve been convinced Evie succeeded. That she’d destroyed Black Bear and scattered the family. Now Ric is sitting across from me, making good on his promise to try to stitch everything back together.
A lump forms in my throat. “I’m sorry,” I tell him.
His eyebrows lift. “For what?”
“For all of this—the vineyard. The estate. Everything she dumped on you.”
“Thanks.” He leans back and rubs a hand over his face. “The truth is, I’m overwhelmed.” He takes a sip of his Bellini. “My practice is already a full-time job. Patients don’t disappear because Evie died.”
A small smile tugs at Sera’s mouth, though it fades quickly.
“I spent half the day with her accountant yesterday. I thought I understood her finances.” His laugh is short and disbelieving.
“I didn’t. There are investments everywhere.
Businesses. Accounts. Properties. Trusts.
Things I didn’t know existed.” He shakes his head again.
“It’s a mess. But I hope that also means there will be enough to give everyone something. ”
Sera traces a finger around the rim of her glass. “I’m not sure I’m staying.”
Ric turns toward her. “Okay…”
Sera wraps her hands around her glass. “Beyond harvest, I mean. Dad and I have been talking. He wants me to move north and take over the operations of his vineyard.”
Ric’s expression tightens. I already know some of this because Sera and I have been discussing it, usually after midnight when neither of us can sleep, but hearing her say it out loud changes the weight of it.
“He needs help,” she continues. “The vineyard keeps growing. The business side keeps getting bigger. He wants me to handle operations so he can focus on making wine.”
This makes perfect sense. Dad has always preferred the vineyard and the cellar to budgets and staffing plans. If anyone could step into that role, it’s Sera.
Surely Ric understands that too, but it doesn’t seem to make him feel any better. “I hope you’ll reconsider,” he says.
Sera shrugs. “I’m not saying it’s done. I’m saying I’m considering it.”
A breeze moves across the patio, carrying the scent of warm vines and dry earth. For several seconds nobody speaks. Then I realize I’m going to have to put my possibilities out there too.
“Malcolm Westcott offered me a job in Napa.”
Something flickers across Ric’s face. “He has a vineyard?” he asks.
I nod. “He wants me to analyze it and figure out how to improve their production—working from the inside out.”
Ric looks out across Black Bear. The fading sunlight catches the rows of vines stretching toward the lake, and for a moment he seems unable to take his eyes off them. “This land has been farmed for almost five generations, and I don’t want what was built ending up with Dylan and Scott.”
“God,” Sera says, shaking her head, “she really left a mess.”
Ric chuckles. “I entirely agree, but still, I miss her.” He sighs. “God knows she drove me insane. Half the time I couldn’t stand being in the same room with her.” A small smile appears before fading again. “But that was Evie.”
“Family always came first for her,” Sera says.
“Yeah,” Ric agrees. “She just had a terrible way of showing it.”
Nobody disagrees with that.
A while later, Ric checks his phone and groans. “I have to go.”
Sera lifts an eyebrow. “What’s the hurry?”
“My wife is pregnant and currently wants pistachio ice cream from Paradise Creamery.”
I laugh. “That sounds serious.”
“It definitely is.” The smile that spreads across his face changes his appearance. For all the stress weighing on him, talking about Liz lightens him immediately.
“How’s she doing?” Sera asks.
Ric pushes back from the table. “She feels as big as a house and complains constantly.” His expression softens. “But she looks beautiful to me. Pregnancy agrees with her.”
“Only three months left,” I say.
“Three very long months.”
I grin and stand to hug him goodbye. “Since you’re having a boy, maybe you should name him after Evie—like Evan?”
Ric points at me. “I don’t think so. That is too big of a set of shoes to grow into.”
Sera and I both thank him for thinking about us and trying to make this right. We assure him we appreciate what he’s doing. A few minutes later he climbs into his truck and disappears down the driveway, leaving us alone on the patio. The quiet feels different after he’s gone.
Sera sits back in her chair. “So what are you going to do?”
I stare out toward the vines while I search for an answer. “I don’t know. Knowing Black Bear could eventually be ours changes things.”
Sera nods. “I think so too.”
There’s nothing clear about any of this. Every option seems tangled together with ten others.
“How are things with Alex?”
I look down at my empty glass. “I haven’t been in touch. His ex-wife is back.”
Sera cringes. “Ouch.”
“Yeah. That’s the right summary.” I trace a finger around the rim of the glass. “It’s probably good for Eloise. A little girl deserves her mom.”
Sera watches me for a moment. “You haven’t talked to him?”
I shake my head. “I discovered her there when I went over to see him two days ago, and I haven’t even turned my phone on since I shut it down when I left his house.”
The confession sounds ridiculous out loud, but I can’t take it back.
“Josie.”
“I know.” I close my eyes a moment. “I just can’t do it right now. Everything else is already falling apart.” My voice softens. “I don’t think I can handle hearing him tell me goodbye too.”
Sera reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “If Napa is what you want, that’s what you should do.”
I glance at her.
“And if it isn’t, family will be here. Dad has room. Black Bear has room. Whatever happens with Ric, whatever happens with the estate, you’ll always have somewhere to belong.”
I smile at her, even as I wonder if that’s true.