Chapter 9
Bianca
“ J esus Jones.”
I gaze around the space, mouth wide open.
I’m in the Caparelli cave a couple of days later.
It clearly hasn’t been used in years, but the lights still work (some of them; we’ll need a few more bulbs) and cobwebs stretch across shadowy corners, but the brick walls and floor are still amazing and beautiful. I shiver at the cool air and slowly walk farther into the cellar. Oak barrels line the walls—empty barrels—and I run a hand over the smooth old staves and hoops. They’re in good shape, albeit dusty.
I haven’t been in this cave for years. As kids, Rosa and Allegra thought it was creepy, but I was always fascinated by it. Nonna stopped using it years ago when new stainless-steel tanks were purchased for the cellar. This cave isn’t a huge cellar, unlike other wineries in the area, but it’s fascinating and full of history and character.
At the far end of the cave, I stop and stare. I narrow my eyes, unsure what I’m seeing. Rings in the brick floor encircle wooden lids. “Can this be real?” I step closer and pull up one lid to peer into the hole. “Oh my God.” It’s a huge terracotta vessel. “Qvevri tanks?”
I learned about these in school, the history of winemaking that utilized these huge pots to make wine. White grapes are poured into the container along with skins and stems, left to ferment with natural yeast, and then sealed to age. The wine produced has a deep color often referred to as orange.
“Wow.” My mind is racing, possibilities bouncing around. This is something I don’t have hands-on experience with but oh my God, it’s so intriguing. I need to do some research into making orange wines. Could I do that here? I gaze around, wide-eyed, my blood fizzing with excitement.
But first I need to deal with Uncle Geno.
I find Rosa in her makeshift office in front of her computer.
“I’m going over to Belmonte,” I tell her. “If I’m not back in an hour, call the cops.”
She snorts. “Don’t joke like that. I’m coming with you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Yes, I do.” She stands. “We’re a team.”
I don’t move for a second, my heart shifting in my chest.
Yeah. We’re a team.
We drive down the road to Belmonte. Cars fill the parking lot there. My sunglasses and baseball cap shield me from the hot afternoon sun and our feet crunch on the gravel as we walk toward the tasting room. Voices from the patio on the other side of the building float on the soft air. No doubt the place is full of customers tasting (and buying) wine.
I want that, too. The tasting room may be Allegra’s dream, but I do love that aspect of the business—watching people savor my creations. It’s a wonderful feeling to bring joy into the world. Sure, it’s great when we sell cases of wine to wholesalers, but you don’t get that personal gratification of seeing people face to face getting pleasure from what you’ve produced. Maybe some day we’ll have that at Caparelli. But will I be here to enjoy it?
We walk inside and stop at the reception counter.
“Hi, Rosa!” says the young girl working there. “How are you?”
“I’m great, thanks. You?”
“Busy!” She gestures at the indoor tasting room where people are gathered at the counter.
“This is my sister, Bianca.” Rosa introduces us. “Bee, this is Arleth.”
I smile. “Nice to meet you.” I don’t know why I expected the same people to be working here all these years later.
“We’re looking for Geno,” Rosa says.
“He’s in the cellar with Vittorio.”
“Okay, thanks.” She leads the way through a “staff only” door and down to the cellar.
Uncle Geno and my cousin Vittorio are standing near the entrance talking. They look up as we walk in, surprise flashing on their faces.
“Hi, Uncle Geno! I’m back!” I open my arms for a hug. I mean, he’s not an affectionate guy, but I’m his niece and he hasn’t seen me for a while.
He frowns but moves toward me and gives me a perfunctory hug. “Bianca. I heard you’re home.”
“Of course you did.” I roll my eyes, smiling. “Word travels fast here. Hi, Vitto.”
“Hey, Bianca.” We hug, too, his embrace a little warmer than my uncle’s.
We make a little small talk, then Uncle Geno asks, “Why are you here?”
I give him a look, chin down. He actually grimaces.
“We have business to discuss with you. Do you want to talk here, or go to an office?” I gesture at the cellar rats—not literal rats; helpers in the cellar—moving around the space working.
“Let’s go to my office,” Uncle Geno says.
We follow him back upstairs. Rosa and I both know where his office is, directly behind the tasting room.
Vitto follows us, which I didn’t expect, but I guess I should have. I’ve got Rosa here for backup, so he can support his dad.
We all take seats in the small space. Uncle Geno spends his money on the public-facing spaces; this room has old flooring, ancient furniture, and is windowless and stuffy. I study him where he sits behind his desk. His gray hair has thinned and receded over the years, revealing age spots on his brow from so much time in the sun. Creases line his forehead and his eyes.
“First of all, before we talk wine, I have to say something.” I meet Uncle Geno’s eyes steadily. “I’ve heard about the problems at Caparelli. The complaints to the sheriff’s office. How hard it was to find workers. Someone messing with the equipment.”
His eyes flicker but otherwise his face remains impassive.
“We will involve the police again if anything more happens.” I make my gaze frosty, my chin lifted. “We won’t stand for that kind of bullshit. We’re family .”
He narrows his eyes. “Are you accusing me of something?”
My eyebrows shoot up. “If the shoe fits…”
“Christ,” Vitto mutters, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Nothing’s going to happen.”
I give him a long look. “Okay.” Then I turn back to Uncle Geno. “Also, I heard about Rosa and Jake. Their marriage. And how you interfered with their marriage.”
His mouth tightens.
“That was a terrible thing to do. Shameful. You separated them when they loved each other.”
Rosa makes a soft noise next to me.
“Don’t ever interfere in our personal lives again,” I finish quietly.
“I’m your uncle. The only one left to look after you.”
“You think trying to take away our inheritance is looking after us?” Outrage raises my voice and I take a breath to calm down.
“You girls need to come to your senses and realize you can’t run a winery on your own,”
Although his tone is mild, the words offend me. That feeling of being brushed off floods back. He’s never going to believe that I can be a great winemaker. But I’m not a little girl anymore; I’m an adult and I don’t want or need his acceptance. I just need him to cooperate.
I fight back defensiveness and smile. “You make us sound like helpless children.”
Uncle Geno rolls his eyes.
“That’s not what Nonna thought of us,” I continue. “Remember what her will said? Her wish was to rebuild the tradition of wine-making women. She obviously thought we’re capable of doing that.”
He frowns.
“Rosa has learned a lot about the business from working with you. I’ve learned a lot, at school and working at Castillo Lorenzo. And Allegra has been working in wineries in Europe.” I grit my teeth a little, keeping my smile in place. “I’m sure she’s learned a lot, too. There’s no reason we can’t do this.” I pause and look at him, then Vitto. His expression is minutely softer than Uncle Geno’s.
“Except…” I continue, sliding my gaze back to Uncle Geno. “Except for you.”
Uncle Geno narrows his eyes. “Those grapes belong to me. I’m the one who cared for them for years.”
“They belong to Caparelli,” I say gently. “And Caparelli belongs to us.” I look at Rosa. “We need those grapes.”
Uncle Geno’s mouth tightens.
“We also need our wine,” I add staunchly.
His eyes widen. “Your wine? What are you talking about? You didn’t grow and harvest those grapes. You didn’t look after them while they were fermenting.”
He has a point there. But I don’t care. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. “Without wine, we have no way to make any money this season.”
“Well, that’s too bad. That’s what happens when you start a business.”
“Have you bottled the cabernet?” I ask.
Vitto shakes his head. “Not all of it.”
“I want it.”
Geno shakes his head sharply. “Absolutely not. We need it for the Carleo.”
Vitto rubs between his eyebrows.
I knew this would be a hard sell. “Look. People are talking about us. I’ve heard rumors and I’ve only been back a few days. I’ve heard that we’re supposedly going to sell Caparelli to you.”
“As if I’d pay you for it. It should be mine.” His words don’t sound very determined, though.
“But it’s not, and that’s what Nonna wanted. I also heard that you’re going to contest the will. Is that true?”
He hesitates. “I’ve talked to a lawyer about it.”
Also not unequivocal. He may have talked to the lawyer, but he hasn’t done anything. Yet. Maybe.
“People are talking about the family,” Rosa says. “Calling it a feud. Do you really want that?”
I lean forward. “Remember what Mr. Davenport said. Nonna’s greatest desire was that we remain a family, supporting each other, regardless of what happened with her will. She probably knew you wouldn’t be happy about losing Caparelli. I think she was trying to tell you that we need to stay family, no matter what.”
He says nothing.
“She’s not wrong,” Vitto says quietly to his dad.
I meet his eyes and dip my chin in thanks. That small amount of support encourages me. “We don’t want everyone in the county talking about us. We have a reputation for quality wines. We don’t want family drama to detract from that. Look what happened with the Mondavi family.”
Uncle Geno’s lips twist in acknowledgment.
I catch Rosa’s quickly hidden smile.
“Will you think about it? We’re working hard to make sure the grapes are healthy and harvested this season. We’re going to work hard to make sure we offer quality wines. It would be generous and gracious of you to help us in that way. Even if that’s the least you can do for us. For family.”
“You could think about it, Dad,” Vitto says. He looks back at me. “He’ll think about it.”
Uncle Geno just glowers.
I stand and glance at Rosa. She jumps to her feet.
“Thanks for your time this afternoon.” I smile at Uncle Geno and Vitto.
And we leave.
We’re quiet all the way along the paved pathway out front and across the parking lot. When we reach the car, Rosa turns to me. “Holy shit! You were amazing!”
Was I? I don’t know. Hopefully I sounded strong, but inside I was shaking like that little girl I’m trying not to be anymore. I squeeze out a laugh. “Aw, thanks. But we’ll see, I guess. I tried to appeal to his softer side. But I don’t know if he even has a softer side anymore.” I sigh.
“I think it’s been hard on him,” Rosa says musingly as we drive home. “He’s been in charge of everything for a long time.”
“I suppose. I guess I haven’t given much thought to Uncle Geno’s challenges. Still. He has the wine.”
“Yep.”
“And I’ll let Jansen know that I have conditions for helping him. We’ll see if he goes for it.”
Rosa makes a face. “I have no idea. I don’t know this guy.”
“You will. He’s our next-door neighbor.” I pause. “You fell in love with the last guy who lived there.”
She laughs. “I’m not going to fall for Jansen Beck.”
I want to say the same. But falling for Jansen Beck seems like something entirely possible.