Chapter 28
Bianca
“ I ’ve booked my flight back to Argentina. I’m leaving Saturday.”
Rosa’s head snaps up. She frowns at me. “What? Really?”
I abuse my bottom lip with my teeth. “Yes. It’s time.”
Rosa sinks onto a kitchen chair. We just finished dinner and doing the dishes. Jake’s at the sink rinsing it out. She glances at him, then back at me. “But we need you here.”
I smile. “No, you don’t. Jake’s got things under control.”
“He’s not a winemaker, Bee. What are we going to do without you?”
Well, I haven’t thought that through.
Which is actually kind of shitty of me. I own part of this winery. I’m going to leave Rosa here all on her own. Again. Who knows what’s happening with Allegra. I feel my shoulders drawing up, tightening, and a twisting feeling in my stomach.
The panic that’s been brewing inside me climbs, a tight, breathless squeeze.
“I don’t know what to say,” Rosa says quietly.
Jake comes and stands behind her with his hands on her shoulders. The tender, reassuring gesture makes me want to cry.
She looks up at him over her shoulder. He gives her a small nod. She looks back at me. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Leaving.”
I swallow. “Yeah.”
“Why? Why are you leaving? We want you here. We need you here. We love you and we miss you when you’re not here.”
I give a soft snort. “I’m pretty sure no one missed me.” Well. Ana and Millie said they missed me.
“Of course we missed you!” Her mouth drops open wide enough to fit a wine barrel.
With a quiet murmur about leaving us to talk, Jake disappears.
“Okay. Why are you leaving?” Rosa asks in a softer tone.
I sigh and sit down at the table. “I want to be somewhere I’m respected. Where I’m good enough. Where I’m not just pushed aside and treated like I don’t matter.”
Rosa moves her head slowly side to side, staring at me. “That’s ridiculous. You’re respected here.”
That ache in my throat intensifies. I don’t want to break down in tears while I’m trying to be an adult. I take a moment to swallow and get my voice under control. “I know you love me. We’re sisters. I love you, too. But you’ve disagreed with me about things I want to do here. I feel like you don’t trust me to make good wines.”
Rosa presses her fingers to her mouth, eyes wide. “That’s not true. Of course I trust you! That’s why I want you to stay!”
“So we can argue over what wines to make and how much it’ll cost and how long it’ll take and?—”
“Yes!”
Her nearly-shouted agreement startles me into silence.
“Yes! Of course we’ll disagree on those things. And likely lots of other things. There are all kinds of decisions we have to make if we’re going to run this place. We won’t always agree. I know I’m focused on the bottom line. The business. You’re focused on making beautiful wines. We just have to talk about things, work through them. Sometimes we’ll have to compromise. But I’ll always, always respect your knowledge and your talent.”
Compromise.
My mind darts back to that conversation with Vitto here in the kitchen.
Good winemakers are really bad at compromising.
My heart squeezes. The stinging in my nose keeps me from speaking again. And I’m not sure what to say anyway.
“Why would you leave?” she asks again, more gently this time. “What is it you really want?”
“I just told you!”
“I know, I’m just trying to get underneath that.”
“I want to be part of this family!”
Silence plunges over us, thick and heavy. I drop my head forward.
“Bee.” Rose reaches over and grabs my hand. “You are part of the family.”
“I know, but…sometimes…I don’t feel like it.”
“It’s you who always pulls away. Puts up walls. You’re the one who left.”
Ana and Millie said the same thing.
I want to deny it and argue with Rosa, but hearing it from her and from my friends stirs up so many emotions. I feel defeated. But also a recognition of truth. And a bitter taste in my mouth that’s remorse.
“I left…” I choke up and fight back the tears. “I left because…I was afraid.”
Rosa squeezes my hand. “Of what?”
“After losing Papa and then Mama…always feeling like the middle kid who didn’t matter because you were smart and perfect and Allegra was…challenging, but so much fun…I was so afraid I’d never truly be recognized. Or loved. So I left.”
“I’m sorry.” Rosa’s voice thickens. “I didn’t know you felt that way. You’re a brilliant winemaker, Bee. So talented. We all know it. You’re also a good person. You work so hard. Maybe I haven’t said it, but I appreciate so, so much everything you’ve done for Caparelli. Coming home to help, and you’ve busted your butt working here. And helping Jansen on top of that. I know you weren’t thrilled to be here at first, but lately you seemed really happy. And I thought maybe you’ve found your place. Where you really belong. With us. And I thought maybe you’d stay.”
Jansen wants me to stay. Rosa wants me to stay. Ana and Millie want me to stay. Why am I leaving? So I can prove something to these people? To myself? Or…because I’m still afraid? “Oh God.”
“The other night when we had the cousins over for dinner—you had to see that they consider you family.”
I nod slowly.
“We share blood. A history. A legacy. They respect you. It was clear. And…you were the one who instigated that dinner. Bringing us all together. There’s something about you that makes everyone feel good. Feel valued. You need to value yourself .”
My throat thickens and two plump tears threaten my mascara. I nod.
“And what about Jansen?” she asks quietly. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with him. When I see you together, you both look happy. The way he looks at you… I’m surprised he doesn’t want you to stay, too.”
“He does,” I whisper.
“Ohhhh. And you’re still going to leave?”
“I’m scared, Rosa.”
After a short pause, she says, “Are you in love with him?”
Without looking up at her, I nod miserably. “But he doesn’t love me.”
Her eyebrows twitch toward each other. “He said that?”
“I asked him why he wanted me to stay. He didn’t have an answer.”
“Oh. Damn.”
“Yeah.”
She sighs. “Love is scary. Giving someone that much power to hurt you…it’s terrifying. It takes a lot of trust.”
Is she talking about me? Or…about Jansen? Is he afraid to trust me? Or is it because of what happened with his marriage…
“Even when you’re not convinced everyone you care about will leave you,” Rosa continues. “It wasn’t easy for me to trust Jake again. I was scared, too.”
“I told Jansen I love him and he couldn’t say the same. I can’t stay here now.”
“You told him how you feel. You have to be brave to do that,” she says. “And you are one of the bravest people I know.”
I smile through the tears blurring my vision. “Thank you.”
“The things you’ve accomplished…I don’t know how you could feel that we didn’t respect you for that. I mean, I believe you, I’m not trying to dismiss your feelings. We all have such different perspectives on things. I do regret that we didn’t talk more, back when we were teenagers. About how you were feeling after Mama left.”
“I regret it too. But we were kids.”
“True. I’m sorry you didn’t feel you could come to me, with anything.”
Now we’re gripping both of each other’s hands. I nod. “I’m really happy for you and Jake, When I first got home, I wanted to be mad at him for how he hurt you, but he’s a good guy and it didn’t take long to see that he makes you happy.”
“He does. And I don’t know Jansen well, but I like him.”
My smile trembles. “I like him, too.”
“Don’t do it again.”
I blink. “Do what?”
“Don’t leave because you’re afraid. If Argentina is where you want to be, and you have people there you care about, who care about you, and you’re accomplishing the things you want to do—then that’s where you should be. I would never hold you back. But…” She meets my eyes. “Don’t leave again because you’re afraid.”
I give a jerky nod. “I need to…I need to think. I’m still trying to sort out everything in my head.”
She nods, “That’s fair. I’m here for you. If you want to talk more, about the family, or Jansen, or wine…I’m here.”
“Thank you. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I go upstairs to my room and lie down on my bed.
I don’t feel so hopeless anymore. I play Rosa’s words over and over in my mind. I think about my family. About how happy they were for me being nominated for that award. Vitto’s admission of envy. Their respect.
Maybe not Uncle Geno. But if I feel the love and respect from everyone else, maybe that doesn’t matter.
I’m drained. And yet I feel a growing lightness. Hopefulness. It was hard, but I’m glad Rosa and I talked and that she was honest with me. Hearing that I’m the one who shut down…I’m the one who left…it’s true. I don’t regret it—the experiences I’ve had and the people I’ve met have made me who I am. But it has made me realize that my resentment toward my family probably wasn’t completely well-founded. I may have created some of my own problems by not letting go of the past. In not letting go of the belief that my mother abandoned me because I was lacking. In not letting go of the belief that I need to prove my worth to be part of this family.
Nervous energy fills me and I jump off the bed and cross over to the window. It’s dark but faintly, through the trees, I can see the lights of Bar Down. I lean against the sill.
Who I am…my worth…isn’t determined by others. It’s determined by me.
I’m a winemaker. I’m successful. I love doing it. I’m not musical, but I can create a symphony. I’m not an athlete, but I can create a team. I can bring people joy. Bring them together. That’s something.
I love the history of wine. For thousands of years, wine has brought people together. It’s friends and family and even strangers. Every bottle is a chance to create new memories. I love that I’m part of that.
Don’t do it again.
I turn away from the window and run back downstairs. Rosa and Jake are sitting in the parlor watching TV.
“I’m sorry.”
They both look up at me blankly.
Rosa blinks, her brown eyes soft and warm. “What for, Bee?”
I cross the room and sit on the chair next to them, leaning forward. “I’m sorry I’ve been so…so blocked. That I couldn’t see things clearly. I couldn’t see myself clearly.” I swallow but hold her gaze. “We won’t do the orange wine.”
Her mouth falls open. “What? Why not?”
“It’s not practical this year. You’re right. We need to be more strategic to get started.”
She blinks.
Jake smiles.
“I need to learn to compromise,” I say. “Vitto made me see that. And you. If we’re all going to run this place together, there are going to have to be compromises. I hate compromising, especially when it comes to the wine.”
“I don’t want you to compromise on wine.”
“I know. And I won’t. I’ll make the best damn wines we’re capable of. I can make orange wine next season. And it’ll be amazing. But I’ll listen to you, and to Allegra when she gets here, and we’ll figure things out together.”
She grins.
“Thank you for believing in me, when I didn’t believe in myself.”
She nods, her eyes suddenly shiny.
“And you’re right about something else. I am running away. Again.”