Josie
Forty-seven
The last tray of food is already on the table by the time Sera drops into the chair beside me and wipes her hands on the front of her shorts.
“I think that’s everything,” she says.
I glance around the courtyard that sits between our cottages and nod.
The long table is full, the serving dishes covered, and the summer sun sits low in the evening sky.
Beyond the fence, rows of grapevines stretch across the hillside, their leaves bright green in the lingering heat.
Harvest is only weeks away, and for once I don’t feel like I’m racing toward disaster.
Tonight’s family dinner feels different before anyone even arrives. The vineyard rustles quietly around us, and the anticipation in my gut has nothing to do with survival.
The first vehicles begin arriving a few minutes later.
Ginny appears carrying one-week-old Claire while Ryker follows with a diaper bag large enough to support a small military operation.
Claire sleeps through the immediate crowd that gathers around her, completely unbothered by the attention.
Ryker claims she looks exactly the same as she did yesterday. Ginny insists she’s clearly cuter.
Liz arrives next, one hand resting against her stomach as Ric pulls out a chair for her. “At this point, I should probably just stay seated,” she says.
“You’ve got nine weeks left,” Sera tells her. “We’re going to need a forklift by then.”
The laughter that follows carries across the courtyard as Addie arrives with Jacob, who spends the next several minutes proving he has no interest in remaining seated. Every time someone gets him onto a lap, he immediately twists around and attempts to stand.
“He’s got Dempsey stubbornness,” Ryker says.
“Unfortunately,” Addie agrees.
The courtyard gradually fills with conversation as drinks are passed around and chairs scrape across stone.
Claire sleeps through it all while Jacob continues his campaign toward independent mobility.
Around me, family falls into familiar rhythms. People tease each other.
Stories overlap. But now nobody is keeping score.
Nobody is measuring worth by inheritance or influence.
As I look around the table, the vineyard glows gold in the evening sun. I realize the feeling that’s been growing inside me for weeks finally has a name.
This feels like home.
Alex arrives while Jacob is making another determined attempt to walk before learning how to crawl. Eloise is out of the Volvo almost before the engine is off, heading straight for Claire with a single-minded focus.
“Is that the baby?” she asks, skidding to a stop in front of Ginny. “Can I see her? I’m very good with babies.”
“You may see her,” Ginny says solemnly.
“Good. I’m basically an expert.”
That earns a round of laughter.
My nerves tighten as Alex follows her across the courtyard.
This is the first time he’s joined one of our family dinners, and despite everything we’ve been through, I find myself watching everyone else, even as I look at him.
He’s dressed casually, sleeves rolled to his forearms, his gaze moving over the table and the people gathered around it.
When his eyes find mine, the corner of his mouth lifts.
The reaction it causes is becoming embarrassingly predictable.
Ric is the first to greet him.
“Good to see you, Alex.”
“You too. Thanks for letting us crash dinner.”
“You brought Eloise,” Sera says. “That automatically upgrades the guest list.”
Ryker studies him over Jacob’s head. “We do have standards. Low standards, obviously, because they let me in, but standards.”
Alex pulls out the chair beside me. “That’s comforting. I was worried I’d have to impress you.”
“You should still worry.”
“About you?” Alex asks. “I’ll try.”
The exchange relaxes something inside me.
No one seems to be deciding whether Alex belongs here.
Nobody treats him like an outsider. By the time Eloise is being shown where the lemonade is, Ryker is arguing with Alex across the table.
This feels a lot like someone finally arriving where they were always supposed to be.
When we’re ready to eat, Alex gets Eloise situated beside him and helps her choose food from the platters.
He cuts what needs cutting, listens when she whispers something urgent about Claire’s tiny fingers, and keeps one hand near her glass when she reaches too fast for the bread.
It is such an ordinary sequence of small movements, but I can’t stop noticing the way my family notices him.
Liz smiles when he passes her the salad before she asks.
Addie thanks him when he catches Jacob’s spoon before it hits the stone.
Soon everyone has a plate, and the courtyard is full of overlapping conversations and laughter that carries easily into the vines.
Food moves around the table in both directions while discussion jumps from harvest predictions to babies to whether August weddings should come with mandatory air conditioning and unlimited wine.
Ryker, who has Claire’s burp cloth draped over one shoulder like a man who has surrendered to fatherhood, claims he hasn’t slept since she was born.
“That’s unfair,” Ginny says. “She sleeps beautifully for me.”
“That’s because she can sense weakness,” Ric replies.
The table erupts in laughter.
Somewhere between the salad and the chicken, Jacob decides sitting is no longer an acceptable life choice. He twists toward Eloise, who immediately climbs down from her chair to investigate.
“He wants to visit,” she announces.
“He wants to overthrow the government,” Luc says.
Within seconds the two children become the center of attention.
Jacob babbles with complete conviction. Eloise answers as though she understands every word.
Alex finds himself caught between keeping Eloise’s lemonade upright, retrieving dropped toys, and preventing Jacob from launching himself headfirst toward freedom.
When Jacob manages two wobbly seconds standing against Alex’s knee, the entire table reacts as though he has won an Olympic medal. Jacob beams. Eloise applauds.
Alex catches him before he topples over and looks at me across the table. “I believe I’ve been assigned a job.”
“You’re doing great,” I tell him.
I look from Sera laughing beside Ric to Addie wiping Jacob’s chin, and then to Ginny tucked against Ryker while Claire sleeps through the chaos. This is what love looks like when nobody is keeping score.
Dinner winds down the way good evenings do.
Plates are cleared, glasses are topped up, and conversations drift toward leftovers, tomorrow’s heat, and whatever serving spoon has inevitably gone missing.
Eloise eventually collapses against Alex’s side, determined to stay awake despite her drooping eyelids, while Jacob fights a battle against sleep on Addie’s lap.
“He’s going to lose that fight,” Alex says.
“He’ll deny it until the end,” Luc replies. “He gets that from absolutely no one in this family.”
A low laugh circles the table before fading into comfortable silence. Beneath the glow of the string of lights, the conversation gradually turns toward the subject we have all been politely avoiding.
Ric sets down his glass. He’s been quiet for the last few minutes, turning his glass slowly between his hands. When I notice Sera watching him too, the warmth in my chest tightens into worry.
He has spent weeks buried in lawyers, accountants, and financial records. I’ve known something else was coming. That doesn’t mean I’m ready for it.
Ric sets down his glass. “I should give you all an update.”
The table stills.
“We knew Evie had assets outside Black Bear,” he says. “What we didn’t know was the scale.”
A frown creases Addie’s forehead. “What kind of scale?”
Ric exhales slowly. “National investments. Industrial real estate. Ownership positions in operating companies. International holdings.” He pauses. “Black Bear was only one piece of what she built.”
Sera shakes her head. “That’s not a side portfolio.”
“No,” Ric says. “It’s not.”
For several minutes, questions come from every direction. Ric answers what he can and refuses to guess when he can’t. There are still valuations to complete, structures to untangle, and lawyers involved in nearly every corner of the estate.
“So we don’t know exactly what we’re dealing with yet,” Sera says.
“Not completely,” Ric agrees. “But we know enough to say the estate is extraordinarily healthy.”
That earns a thoughtful silence.
“But what does that mean for us?” Addie asks.
Ric closes the folder and looks around the table.
“It means Evie’s estate isn’t going to sit untouched while lawyers argue over paperwork.
My intention is to create opportunities for all of her heirs.
Not handouts. Opportunities. Investments where they make sense, support where it’s needed, and ventures that can stand on their own. ”
Liz lets out a slow breath. “That sounds like a lot to manage.”
“It is,” Ric says. “But the structure is there. The capital is there. More importantly, the estate can do more than preserve what Evie built. It can help build what comes next.”
Then his attention shifts to Sera and me. “Black Bear is yours to run. It’s your area of expertise, and no one else is stepping up to run it as the vineyard Evie intended it to be. She used it as a force to grow an empire. We can’t stop now.”
My fingers tighten around the stem of my glass.
“I have complete confidence in both of you,” he continues. “The vineyard isn’t merely surviving. Under your leadership it’s positioned for tremendous growth.”
Beside me, Sera goes still.
“Evie built the foundation,” Ric says. “Once we get through probate, you get to build what comes next.”
Alex’s hand finds mine beneath the table, quiet and warm against my palm. I thread my fingers through his and squeeze.
The future I’ve wanted to choose for so long is within my reach.