Chapter 24
Bianca
R osa and I spend the latter part of an afternoon cooking together, re-creating Nonna’s homemade ravioli stuffed with beef, marinara sauce, and a radicchio salad for a family dinner. All the cousins are coming.
“I got Castelvetrano olives for the salad at the market,” I tell her. “Just like Nonna.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t think of doing this,” Rosa says. “It’s not like we’re enemies now. Although it kind of feels like it.”
“I know. And I hate that. They’re family, and Nonna would hate it.” I pause. “I wish I hadn’t lost my temper that night at the harvest dinner. I know we need to be nicer to Uncle Geno. Especially if we want his wine.”
I’m also uncomfortable with how I ended things with Jansen that night. We’ve barely talked the last few days, other than when he got the call about Moose. My stomach clenches again, thinking about Jansen losing him.
“I don’t think he’s ever going to help us,” Rosa says quietly. “I think we’re on our own.”
I look at her. “Yeah. I think you’re right. But we can do it!”
“Yes, we can!”
“Never mind Uncle Geno and whatever climbed up his butt crack. The younger generation can still be friends.”
Gianni, Vitto, and Leo arrive bearing wine, of course, and—sweetly—flowers. Rosa takes them and finds a vase for them, setting the arrangement of autumn-colored sunflowers and chrysanthemums on the dining table we’ve already set for seven.
Jake is joining us. The three cousins are all single, although apparently Gianni is seeing someone but it’s not serious so he didn’t invite her. And I…sadly didn’t invite Jansen.
I tried to talk to him about his wife cheating on him and it was clear that he really doesn’t take our relationship seriously. Which is fine! That’s what we agreed to.
Except I was crushed by his dismissal. Dammit! Rosa had a point about catching feelings.
After my mom left, I learned to keep a fence around my heart. I’m not doing well at that and I’m going to end up going back to Argentina with a bruised heart.
So it’s better if Jansen and I cool things a bit.
We all sit around the table for hours, first nibbling on salami, mortadella, prosciutto, cheeses, bread, and warmed marinated olives while we drink delicious wine. A lot of the talk is about wine at first, naturally. It’s something we all share, including Jake. Vitto is now making wine at Belmonte, and we have that in common. There’s lots of laughter, more food, more wine.
“I think we should change the name from Caparelli to something else,” I tell them, slightly tipsy. “Rosa’s not so sure.”
“I like tradition,” she admits.
The three cousins exchange looks.
“Okay,” I say. “Let’s just get it out there. Are you pissed at us that Nonna left us Caparelli?”
They don’t answer right away. Then Gianni says, “No. How could we be pissed at you about what she did?”
I tip my head. “Are you mad at her ?”
“We were shocked, at first,” Vitto admits. “Nobody had any clue she would do that. And the two wineries have been run as one for years.”
Rosa and I nod. “Understandable.”
“But we’ve talked about it,” Vitto says. “And it’s actually pretty cool that she did that. To continue the Martinelli tradition of wine-making women.”
I suck briefly on my bottom lip, emotion tightening my chest. It means so much to hear that from my cousins. Maybe they do think I can make good wines.
I mean, we . All three of us are involved in this winery. Well, so far, two of us. I mentally roll my eyes again at Allegra’s absence.
“That’s what you could name the winery,” Leo says. “Three sisters. Or le tre sorelle.”
“That’s what Nonna used to call us,” I say wistfully, turning my wine glass in my fingers. I like that idea. I glance at Rosa to gauge her reaction. She looks thoughtful. “Well, it’s something to think about.”
The conversation shifts to memories of Nonna and our childhoods.
“I wish Allegra was here,” I say with a pout.
“Yeah.” Everyone agrees.
“Remember that science fair where she made a tasting box?” Vitto says with a grin.
My eyes widen. “Oh yeah! She put all these essential oils into little bottles to teach people how to taste them in the wine.”
“Like that movie?” Jansen asks. “French Kiss.”
“Exactly!” Leo laughs. “Where do you think she got the idea?”
“It was a great idea, but one of the oils was hemlock.” I make a yikes face at Jansen.
“Hemlock? As in…poison?”
“Yep.”
“I’m still not sure she wasn’t trying to poison her science teacher,” Rosa says with a grin.
“People were only sniffing it!” I say with a laugh.
“Remember the time you were going to Evan Rivera’s place to do homework?” Gianni asks me. “And we all followed you to make sure you were okay?”
“Aaah! You stood outside the house yelling! I was mortified!”
Everyone is laughing at the memory. “How about the time you and Vitto dared Leo to moon cars passing by on the road?” I say to him.
“Oh, Jesus.” Leo swipes a hand over his face.
“You did it,” Rosa reminds him, grinning.
“People were lucky to see my perfect ass.”
We all crack up laughing again. “How old were you? I think your ass was pretty scrawny,” Vitto says. “You probably traumatized people.”
“How about that time Rosa punched Harvey Clark,” Gianni says.
Jake’s head whips around to stare at Rosa. “What?”
“He was picking on me,” Gianni continues. “He was a mean kid, he liked to bully people. She came to my rescue and hit him right in the chops. He never bothered me again.”
Jake grins. “I love that.”
I get up to fetch another bottle of wine. Vitto follows me to the kitchen. “Tell me more about Argentina,” he says, setting his empty glass on the counter. “The wines you were making.”
I fill his glass, then mine, and lean on the counter. “Castillo Lorenzo is in the Luján de Cuyo region of Mendoza. The wines are very terroir-driven.” I give him a saucy smile. “There are four secrets of the Andes.”
“Are they top secret? Or can you tell me?”
I laugh. “The first is the dry weather and sunlight.” I don’t have to explain to him how that helps concentrate colors, aromas, and flavors. “The second is the soils. They’re actually very poor, but well drained. The third is water and irrigation. They don’t get much rain there so they have to irrigate. But the melting snow from the Andes is amazing.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“And fourth is the altitude.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that.”
I nod. “The different elevations make a whole range of weather. Perfect conditions for malbec.”
He nods. He knows exactly what I’m talking about.
“So it’s exciting working with grapes that have that kind of concentrated flavors and balanced acidity.”
“All malbec? No, wait. Your award is for cabernet franc.”
“Yes!” I’m still excited about that. “But we’re mostly known for the malbec. The unique terroir makes it really powerful and robust.”
“It’s different focusing on bringing out the attributes of the region rather than a varietal-first approach.”
“Yes!” Passion for wine, also the glasses of wine I’ve consumed and having someone like-minded to talk to loosen my tongue, and Vitto and I get it into it.
“Congratulations again on that award nomination,” he says a while later with a sincere smile. “It really is impressive. I hope you win.”
“Even being nominated is amazing. Wait, that’s a cliché, isn’t it?” I laugh. “But it’s true.”
“I’d love to try new things like that,” Vitto says, lifting his glass to his lips, sounding a little wistful.
I tilt my head thoughtfully. “You’re happy working here, though? Right?”
“Oh yeah. A little envious of you, though, I have to admit.”
I can only blink. Oh.
“Belmonte’s been doing the same things forever,” he says. “Tradition is really important to Dad.”
“But you’re the winemaker. You should have a say in what you make.”
“Have you met Dad?” he asks with a rueful smile. “Also, he still makes the Carleo. He won’t let anyone else touch it.”
I make a face. “And it’s not even that great.” Then I slap my hand to my mouth.
Vitto chuckles. “Don’t worry, I agree. But Dad’s so attached to it, he won’t hear about trying to make it better, or trying something new.”
“Ugh. Rosa and I have disagreements, too.”
“Of course you do. You’re the winemaker.”
I smile but my eyebrows pull down. “Yeah…”
“And she’s not,” he goes on matter-of-factly. “When you aren’t as invested in the fundamental qualities of the wine you produce, it’s easier to make business decisions.”
“She cares,” I object.
“Sure, but not like you do.”
I slowly lower and raise my chin.
“That’s why good winemakers don’t usually make good CEOs of wine businesses, and good CEOs usually aren’t good winemakers. The businessperson wants to keep things simple. To compromise. But good winemakers are really bad at compromising.”
I let that all sink in.
I’m about to tell him about my idea of making orange wine when Rosa appears. “Hey. I thought you came to get more wine.”
“Ooops.” I flash a smile at Vitto. “We got talking shop.”
“Of course you did.” Rosa comes over and picks up the bottle. Holding it aloft, she shakes her head. “You’ve already drank most of it.”
“We were carried away,” Vitto says, grinning. “Thanks, Bee. It’s fun talking to you about that stuff. I love hearing about what you’ve been doing, and you have great ideas.”
My heart kicks against my ribs. I stare at him as he follows Rosa back to the living room. Hearing that from one of my cousins is…touching. Significant. His interest and respect for my experience and opinions means so much to me. My eyes actually water a bit, and I blink back tears. Damn.
“How did you end up working at Bar Down?” Leo asks as I rejoin the group with another bottle of Cabernet.
“Ana and Millie introduced me to Jansen.” I open the wine. “They said he needed help because he didn’t know anything about wine.”
“So you just jumped in to help a stranger? When you have a winery here you’re trying to get up and running?”
“Basically, yeah.” I shrug and pour wine into his glass then mine. “Although I did have an ulterior motive.”
“What’s that?” Leo frowns.
“We don’t have a lab here. Jansen has a beautiful lab. I agreed to help him in exchange for using his lab.”
One corner of Leo’s mouth hikes, and Vitto hoots. “Ha! Good job, Bee.”
“It still seems like a lot,” Vitto says.
“That’s what we’ve been trying to tell her,” Rosa says.
I’m getting an overprotective vibe from the room. “I’m fine. It’s fine.”
“At the harvest dinner, you two looked pretty friendly,” Gianni says.
The other cousins nod.
Rosa gives me a look.
“Are you going to stay here, then?” Leo asks.
“No.” I shake my head and sip my wine. “I need to go back to Castillo Lorenzo.”
“So you’re just going to abandon Caparelli,” Gianni says. “And your sisters.”
“I’m not abandoning them!” I glance at Rosa. Even as I protest, guilt pinches in my chest. “I’ll still do what I can to help. I can come home sometimes.”
They all make noises like “huh” and shake their heads.
It’s midnight by the time everyone leaves, and Rosa and I survey the damage in the kitchen. Neither of us can leave it till morning, though, and Jake helps, too, as we store leftovers and clean up and haul an embarrassing number of wine bottles to the recycling.
“That was fun,” Rosa says. “I’m so glad you did that.”
“Me, too. I’m glad we talked things out. A little.”
“Yeah. And I’m sure Uncle Geno will come around, too.”
I’m not so sure. Hearing that Uncle Geno hasn’t even given Vitto the freedom he needs to create his own wines kind of pisses me off.
This puts things in a different light than I’ve always seen them. In my head, my cousins were the same as Uncle Geno—set in his ways, traditional, a little chauvinistic. But now I’m seeing that Vitto faces challenges, too. I wanted to come home and do my duty, help my sisters. Then when I got here, I was sucked into the magic of Caparelli—the history, the mythos—and memories of Nonna made me want to do this for her. And now, I feel like a lot of my resentment and feelings of being overlooked and unworthy were maybe a me problem. Like I said to Rosa…maybe it’s time to let my youthful insecurities go. Because I didn’t feel like that tonight with the cousins. Vitto was interested in what I had to say. He asked me questions and we shared experiences. We all have a history together and I felt part of that. Part of the legacy. The heritage. Part of the family.