1. MATT - March
Chapter 1
MATT - March
“M att, I’m so sorry for your loss. Your uncle was an amazing man, and I know you will do right by him and his winery.”
I sign the papers that are pushed in front of me, making Grape Expectations, A Starlight Bay Winery, mine. At thirty-four years old, this was not where I saw myself; a divorced, single dad of an eight-year-old son moving back to the town I couldn’t wait to get away from.
I’d only do it for Uncle Paul.
Three weeks ago, my mother called to say her brother, my Uncle Paul, had passed away. He was sixty-eight years old, and it was unexpected and hurt more than it should. Mainly because I last saw him seven years ago and had only communicated via text randomly since then. I had no idea he was sick. No one did, actually. He was diagnosed with cancer and kept it to himself, not wanting to become a burden. When he passed, he left a will and a detailed letter to my mother citing all the things he wanted done with his legacy. It was semi comforting to hear, until he got to the part where he wanted me to take over his winery. I know nothing about owning a winery, let alone running it. The only thing I do well with wine is drink it.
But here I am, at his estate reading, signing the papers to take on Grape Expectations as mine.
My son, Liam, is ecstatic that we are moving back to Starlight Bay. His grandparents are here, and he’s always loved this town when we visit. Even though I'm not thrilled to be living here again, I’m happy to give him a loving home. I have to admit, this town was amazing to grow up in.
If it hadn’t been for my high school sweetheart, Kylie Johnson, I probably would’ve stayed right here. Our senior year, we had big plans to leave this town and go to college together. When I got a football scholarship, she applied to the same school.
We made it through one semester before everything started to fall apart. Between the team schedule, constant travel, and relentless practices, my time wasn’t my own. Football ruled my life, and Kylie missed home more than she expected.
We broke up, and it didn’t take us long to realize that timing was never really on our side. I had stars in my eyes, thinking I was destined for the NFL. And when that dream fell apart, pride kept me from coming home.
I didn’t look back. I never returned to Starlight Bay.
Until now.
“That’s everything, Mr. Byrne. Congra—” Mr. Pace, my uncle’s attorney, says.
“Wait. Not to sound like an insensitive jerk, but who’s getting his Porsche 911?”
My mother clucks her tongue. “You and that car. You’re as bad as he was.”
“It’s a legit question. No one will take better care of it now than me.” It’s a 1983 Porsche 911 SC coupe and I have dreamed of being behind the wheel since I was five years old.
My mother sits back and crosses her arms. “For your information, he signed the title over to your father almost a year ago. Probably at the same time he got the diagnosis he didn't want to talk about.”
I know she’s upset he didn’t tell her. But I have to just let this go right now. I am being insensitive and know it. Plus, I’ve suddenly got a lot on my plate. Mr. Pace butts in. “Like I was saying, congratulations. I know Paul would be very proud you’re taking over.”
Grumbling to myself, I mutter under my breath, “He didn’t really leave me a choice, now did he?”
“Matt, Uncle Paul loved you so much. Don’t look at this like a burden.”
I look at my mom and sigh. “I’m not. I’m sorry, Ma. I know this has been a shock to everyone. It’s just going to take me time to figure it all out. Everyone in this town adored him. He’s leaving big shoes for me to fill.”
“Don’t take too much time. National Wine Day is in two months. And you have a wedding scheduled as well,” Mr. Pace cuts in.
I furrow my brows, glossing over National Wine Day. I mean, it’s a winery. Isn’t every day wine day? “A wedding?”
Mr. Pace looks over the paperwork. “Yes, a Miss Kylie Johnson and Mr. Patrick Scott have booked their wedding here.”
Kylie Johnson. That name runs through my mind and chills my blood. My Kylie?
My mother interrupts. “Yes, your Kylie.”
“What?”
She raises a brow and a smug grin crosses her face. “Yes, it’s your Kylie. She’s engaged, and I was here when she came to your uncle to book a date a year ago.”
A year ago?
My mother laughs. “Yes, a year ago.”
I look at her, saying, “Are you a mind reader now?”
“No need to read minds when you’re speaking out loud.”
I take a breath and let it out slowly, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Fuck.”
“I met her fiancé. He’s not the one for her.”
“Ma,” I say, with exasperation. We’ve been through this conversation before.
“Just like Gina wasn’t for you.”
“Ma!” I interrupt, trying to sound more forceful this time.
She puts her hands up. “I’m just saying.”
Mr. Pace stands and collects the paperwork, quickly stuffing it into his briefcase. I’m sure he’s just as uncomfortable as I am being part of this conversation. “Matt, if you need me for anything else, you know where to find me.”
I stand and extend my hand to him. “Thanks, Mr. Pace, for everything. I appreciate the help.”
He nods, walks to the exit and closes the door behind him, as I fall back into the chair.
“Ma, what am I going to do with this place? I haven’t the foggiest idea how to run a winery. And now I have to find a place to live, get Liam enrolled in school and?—”
“And plan your ex-girlfriend's wedding?”
I roll my eyes. “Why are you having a good time with this?”
“Because you’re stubborn as hell.”
“Tell me how you really feel.”
“I’m trying.” She leans forward, stretching her hand to me on the table. I lay mine in hers as she says, “Can I be honest?”
“When has that stopped you?”
She squeezes my hand. “You knew playing football wasn’t going to lead to the NFL. Why did you let it stop you from coming home?”
Same reason it continued to stop me every year. I can’t come face to face with the girl I screwed it up with. Guess the joke’s on me. Now I get to watch her marry someone else. I shake my head and stand, needing to get out of this room, but mom holds my hand tight and continues, “She really loved you, Matt, no matter what. And I know you loved her.”
I hold the paperwork in one and and pry my other away from hers. She lets me go and I try my best not to crinkle it up and throw it in the wastebasket.
“Well, looks like that no matter what actually mattered.” I storm toward the door and twist the knob a bit too hard. “I’ve got to go get Liam. I’ll talk to you later.”
“I love you, Matt. It’s all going to be okay.”
I close my eyes with my hand still on the knob. “I love you too, Ma.” I leave the door open behind me, making haste to get out into the air again. The sun is warm, and the smell of saltwater immediately takes me back fifteen years to a time that was so much simpler: the beach, football, and the hottest girl I ever laid eyes on.