Chapter 12
Raffi
About a week after running into Ani at Tilde, Raffi rolled up to the work site that was once his winery’s garden to find Chris and his crew already there at nine a.m., cutting stones and laying them out.
The sand-colored stones Ani had picked were looking fantastic, just as she had predicted.
Ani. He wondered if he could find some excuse to call her over to check out the progress.
Then again, he had seen how Ani reacted when Grace said, “It’s not like you’re still in love with her or anything.
” Ani’s laugh, plus the confessions she’d spilled at the Embarcadero, definitely implied Ani was, in fact, still in love with Kami.
He was such a fool, pining after someone who was hung up on someone else.
And yes, he, too, had answered affirmatively to Kami’s “Hey, babe?” It was like some ancient artifact came loose and tumbled out of its place on the display shelf.
It had been instinct, to answer her call, at one time.
Kami did have a certain power, he’d give her that.
She had presence and charisma and apparently the ability to summon up a ten-year-forgotten “Yeah?” to the question “Hey, babe?” But that was the end of it; he wasn’t melting in Kami’s proximity otherwise. Unlike Ani.
“Hey, man,” Chris said and walked over for a handshake/low five combo.
“It’s looking great, bro.”
“Good. I wanted to make sure it was still going according to plan. I guess Sanan is coming over anytime now to assess.”
Chris ran a quick hand through his hair when he mentioned Sanan, and Raffi’s heart skipped a beat. Sanan, Ani’s assistant, was coming? Might that imply…?
“Is Ani coming, too?” Raffi asked.
“Don’t know. Why?”
“No reason.”
Chris stared at him. Raffi stared back.
Raffi cleared his throat. “I’ll keep an eye out.”
“You do that, man,” Chris said, and went back to work.
Raffi swept into his office to see if any progress had been made on the sales end of things.
They’d had slightly more wine tasters come by and a slight uptick in wine club members, but the enterprise sales were not going well, and without those, or a massive upswing in individual members, their run rate was looking grim.
He had about seven months of cash flow before he’d have to put his tail between his legs, go to his father, and admit he had failed.
Which was simply not an option.
Raffi made a few more calls, left more messages, and hoped. The wedding was five months away. He couldn’t depend solely on its presumed success and had to keep acting in the meantime.
He peered out the window to see Sanan’s slim figure as she chatted with Chris. She tucked her hair behind her ear, and Chris leaned in just a little too close during their conversation. Then they laughed like they were sharing a private joke. Maybe Ani was just out of sight.
He walked out of the building into the garden, looking this way and that for Ani’s long, thick hair and her huge eyes, but she didn’t seem to be around.
“Hi, Sanan,” he greeted from afar, and she greeted him politely.
She walked over. “Ani wanted to check up on the design but couldn’t make it. She’s picking linens and flatware with Kami today—”
Sanan said a few words after that but Raffi didn’t catch them, imagining Ani simpering after Kami, hearts in her eyes.
Kami was being so flirtatious with Ani, anyone could see it.
How could Grace not? Or maybe Grace did and was simply not bothered.
Kami had a flirty personality, so maybe Grace knew exactly who she was marrying.
It never bothered him when he was dating Kami, after all.
Still, it irked him how Kami laid it on so thick with Ani and how Ani ate it up. “She’s getting married,” he wanted to tell Ani. “You have to get over it…and, you know, possibly consider who’s right in front of you. Me. I’m talking about me.”
“Let me know if you need anything. I have to make some calls,” he told Sanan, whose visible task list seemed to be all contractor related anyway.
In truth, he had a text he wanted to send. One text, two motivations.
Ani jan, how are things going? I’m here with Sanan. Everything seems fine, but I want to make sure this wedding goes perfectly. Can I help in any way?
First, he wanted to remind Ani of his presence, especially since he knew she was with Kami, or would be shortly.
Secondly, he did need this wedding to go well and would do anything in his power to get it there.
If it was as high profile as Ani was making it out to be, if he could book more weddings, if it could get ? on the map, he’d have a chance at showing his dad he could keep his dream alive. And that Raffi did it his own way.
She texted back shortly, which ignited a flare of hope in him.
Raffi jan—his heart leapt. That was the first time she’d said it.
Said it back. She mirrored his endearment term.
For a moment he couldn’t read anything else, couldn’t see anything but stars.
Raffi jan. He tried to hear it in her voice, smooth and confident.
His entire body felt light, taking it in.
When his vision had resumed, he continued reading, pretending like he hadn’t just been knocked sideways by a single word.
—all is well. Getting the work done as soon as possible is the priority. We should do a photoshoot after it’s set, for my portfolio and your winery.
Check this out, he texted, and sent her a photo of the stones he’d snapped.
Perfection!! Damn, he’s quick, she replied.
And I assure you, still meticulous.
I can see that, Ani responded.
Raffi then asked, What’s next?
She responded, We need to figure out the fountain. Can we meet this week and nail it down?
Yes, he certainly could meet this week.
Definitely. Let’s do it. Wednesday?
Two days from now.
Perfect, she replied.
“I can’t wait,” he wanted to reply, but of course he stopped himself.
Meet me here, 10am, I’ll drive us. Then he texted her his home address. It’ll be easier. A risk, sure, but it made more sense for them to meet at his place first.
There was a brief pause before she texted back. Hmm, maybe she realized it was a condo, not the winery, and was worried about meeting at his place. Then her text came in. Sounds good, she replied.
Nothing would happen. She wasn’t interested in him. They were going to figure out the fountain situation, and Raffi would get to spend some time in the company of a beautiful and brilliant woman. Simply bask in her radiance, that was all. That was normal to want, right?
While he was not ready for the conversation to end, he heard a lumbering outside his door. His dad entered, his perpetually unimpressed expression wearing down his face.
“Dad, here,” Raffi said, moving to grab a chair.
“I’m not an old man, I can pull out my own chair.”
His dad waved him off, but as he did, the man lost his balance and began to topple to the floor. Raffi dove toward him and broke the worst of his fall. He was holding his dad, who was quite heavy, in his arms. The son carrying the father. It felt all wrong. His dad, evidently, thought so, too.
He spat, “I was fine. I would have caught myself if you didn’t do that!”
His dad wrenched out of his position, got on all fours, and was about to get up but clearly couldn’t. Raffi, now standing, extended his arm. His father reluctantly took it and pulled himself into the chair.
“Dad. Come on, can we please talk about it? It’s time for a cane. At the very least.”
“Dghas,” his dad said, meaning “my boy,” a loving phrase he almost never, ever used. Raffi leaned in, shocked, wanting to hear more. His dad’s voice was low. “I would rather die—die—than be seen with a cane. Do you understand me?”
Raffi drew back like he’d been slapped. He didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he glanced at his father. Shoulders still broad, but hunched now with pain and age, eyes still sharp, but dimmed around the edges. He looked like a fortress crumbling from the inside out.
“You don’t have to prove anything,” Raffi said. “Not to me or anyone else.”
Moushegh gave a bitter laugh. “That’s what young men say. Until they’re the ones sitting here.”
Raffi tried to find the words, something that didn’t sound like pity or rebellion. But nothing landed.
Moushegh filled the silence. “One day, when you are old, you will understand,” his dad said. “And if God blesses you with sons, you will understand further.”
Raffi looked at his father, this man who had built everything through grit and force and willpower. His dad still believed that strength meant silence. That asking for help was defeat.
Maybe Moushegh would never change. But Raffi could.
And if he ever had sons, he’d show them that being a man meant more than swallowing your fear. It could mean tenderness. Vulnerability. Joy.
Moushegh crossed his arms. “But the way it’s been going, it appears I will be cold in my grave by the time any grandchildren come around, if they ever do at all.
When was the last time you brought a woman around, eh?
Think you’re too good for them all, do you?
Well, you’re not. Women are worth fighting for, making ourselves better for.
I don’t understand why you treat them with such disrespect. ”
Raffi was taken aback. First, his dad was giving him love advice? He really must think the end was near. Secondly, his dad had noticed anything at all about Raffi’s dating life?
“Dad, I don’t treat women disrespectfully. I’m very transparent—”
“Bah.” His father waved. “Sure you do. You never bring a woman home. That is disrespect.”
Dad knew about Raffi’s past dalliances? Gross. He supposed word did get around the Armenian community, but still.
“No, I just haven’t found the right—”
“Then look around! All your friends are married. Aram Vartanian is married, Daron Chamlian is married, even that little runt Penyamin is married, and to quite a beauty I must add. Open your eyes, son. Do you think there’s anything more important than family?”
“Um—” Raffi stammered. He didn’t know his father felt this way at all. He hadn’t exactly invested much time in his. And he, his mother, and his father were hardly the picture of a close-knit family.
“Fooling around, satisfying your every desire, do you think that is manliness?”
Raffi suffered severe whiplash. Just moments before he was disgusted by his father’s definition of manliness, but now? This addendum sounded surprising.
Because his father wasn’t entirely wrong.
It wasn’t about needing a wife, that wasn’t the issue.
It was how Raffi had been moving through the world the last few years, mistaking honesty for decency.
Even though he’d been hooking up less and less, he must have been subconsciously realizing that telling women he didn’t want a relationship didn’t automatically make his intimacy with them harmless.
What if those women had felt something spark—like the kind of current he felt around Ani—and he’d walked away without even noticing? That part stung.
Because with Ani, the draw was undeniable, and they’d barely touched. Ani.
He wished he could tell his dad: “Yes, I did find someone I wanted to bring home, but she turned me down, so that’s that.”
“I mean…no.”
“That’s right. No, you jackass.” His father swore in Armenian. “It is to make sacrifices for your family.”
Maybe it was because he’d just held his father in his arms, broken his fall, and stopped a calamity that Raffi felt emboldened to talk back, something that had previously always terrified him. “Like you made sacrifices for ours, working endlessly so you didn’t have to see any of us?”
“Ungrateful boy! How dare you!”
“You didn’t have to work that much. No one doe—”
“Who would have built the Garabedian empire otherwise? You say that, sitting pretty here in this winery I purchased, living off the life I made for you.”
Raffi shook his head. His dad was right in a way.
Although the winery was in trouble and Raffi was stressed, he would take this role over any job he’d ever previously had.
Especially the one he was most recently in, management consulting.
If he never had to hear the words value chain or agile methodology ever again, it would be too soon.
So yes, his dad had set him up with that.
“Fine, Dad. Thank you for working yourself nearly to death for us.”
“I don’t need your thanks. Get me some damn grandchildren to run around and break some of our finest vintage bottles, that’s what I want.”
His father had a hint of a smile at his own joke, and Raffi couldn’t help but smile sadly at it, too.
“Noted. After I pull this winery out of the red, I’ll work on it.”
His father grumbled as he rose painfully from the chair and shambled out of the room.
Raffi sat and stared blankly at the computer screen in front of him for several moments.
That was possibly the most personal conversation he’d ever had with his dad.
Must have been the fall. His dad had come face-to-face with his mortality and felt the need to impart wisdom on Raffi. Not all of it bad.
But there was something else—something that kept tugging at the edges of his thoughts during the talk with his dad. In the back of his mind, coming in and out of visualizations, were the gorgeous cosmic eyes of Ani.
It was a hopeless situation, but still. Wednesday could not come soon enough.