Chapter Twelve Remi
Chapter Twelve
Remi
The sun hung low, casting a golden light across the vineyard.
Rows of grapevines shimmered in the breeze.
Remi walked the length of the future Joie property, clipboard in hand, sunglasses perched on her head.
She paused in front of the old stone building that would become the tasting room, its weathered charm undeniable.
Bianca joined her, nursing a bottle of mineral water and wearing oversized sunglasses.
“You got that woman-on-a-mission look on your face again,” Bianca teased.
Remi smiled faintly. “Talked to Leo this morning. He connected me with his architect friend. Really sharp guy. We already had a phone call. He gave me some solid advice about the tasting room.”
“Damn. That was fast.”
“I’ve got a pre-application meeting with Napa County next week,” Remi added. “They’ll walk me through the whole permitting process.”
Bianca smiled. “I’m so glad you’re doing this.”
Remi looked around at the building. “Me too.”
“Regardless of what happened that day, Gerard would be proud. He would want you to move forward, even if it’s without him.”
Remi didn’t answer right away. Her throat tightened as she thought of that last argument with Gerard.
“He loved the name—Joie. Said he could see me here, barefoot in the vines, pouring wine and laughing.” Remi giggled. “I told him I don’t see myself barefoot in anybody’s vines. Not this girl.”
Bianca laughed. “No, not at all. Not Remi, who was afraid of playing in the mud when we were kids—too afraid of getting your hands dirty.”
“I wanted to be a little lady, not a mud dobber.”
“You’re still that way. Afraid to let your hair down. Sometimes you just need to throw caution to the wind.”
“Sometimes throwing caution to the wind gets you in trouble. People need to think things through.”
Bianca narrowed her eyes playfully. “Agreed. Sometimes they do. But sometimes you need to just go with your gut.”
Remi looked away for a moment, then at Bianca. “And where exactly has throwing caution to the wind gotten you?”
Bianca chuckled. “Somewhere between freedom and heartbreak.”
They both laughed.
Bas peeked through the glass and then tapped on the window. Remi waved him inside. He stepped into the building, his hands locked behind his back like a guilty teenager.
“I’ve been looking for Zoe, trying to see if she wanted to drive down to the beach today.”
“Have you tried calling her?”
“Multiple times, but she won’t answer. She won’t talk to me at all, not since … Sage—”
“Do you blame her?”
“Sage is … I don’t know. Things with her are not really that serious,” he rambled.
Remi breathed heavily and then removed her sunglasses. She spoke in a calm, but heavy voice. “Bas, I know about the baby.”
Bas froze. A flicker of panic crossed his face. He seemed to be caught somewhere between denial and wanting to ask how she knew.
“Oh,” he finally muttered.
“Yes. I had no idea that she was going through something so painful, nor that she was so alone. While Zoe was slowly falling apart, you were in Boston at Harvard, cozying up to your new girlfriend …”
“Sage and I—”
She didn’t give him a chance to finish. “And where is she from anyway?”
“Her family lives in Virginia,” he said.
“Why isn’t she in Virginia for the summer?” Remi asked but didn’t give him an opportunity to respond. She realized she was getting too worked up—too invested. “Never mind.”
He paused, shaking his head. “We’ve only been seeing each other for a couple of months. She’s barely even—”
“Barely even what? Your girlfriend?”
“Barely.”
“But you can understand how hard this is for Zoe, watching you show up here with someone new, while she’s still grieving a baby and now her father.”
“I didn’t realize that Mr. G—”
Remi interrupted. “Seems you didn’t realize a lot of things!”
“I thought she was done with me,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. With pain in his voice, he continued, “I tried calling her over and over again, since Christmas.”
“You haven’t tried hard enough,” Remi snapped. “You know Zoe; she’s guarded.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Does your mother know about this? About the baby?” Remi crossed her arms.
“No,” he said quickly. “And I really don’t …”
“What?” Remi stepped closer, getting in his face. “You want her in the dark like I was?”
Bas dropped his head; his six-foot frame seemed to slump under the weight of guilt. He ran a hand through his dark curls, then looked up at Remi with wet, red eyes. “I guess I should tell her, huh?”
“Best it comes from you and not me.”
He nodded slowly. “Okay.”
He started toward the door but turned back. “I really do love Zoe. I would never hurt her on purpose.”
Remi raised her eyebrows. She believed him but wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of him knowing that. She wasn’t going to let him off the hook—not yet. Not while her baby was hurting.
“You’d better tell Paloma. She has a right to know too. Or I will.”
“Okay,” he said, giving her a faint, nervous smile. “Thank you for not killing me.”
Remi didn’t smile back. “It’s not off the table.”
After Bas left, Remi and Bianca laughed.
“That poor boy probably wet his pants.”
“He needs to feel what Zoe’s feeling and share the responsibility. That’s some heavy stuff my baby is dealing with.”
“Agreed.” Bianca sipped her mineral water.
The sun had long dipped below the horizon, casting a deep indigo sky above the vineyard.
Inside the house, Remi sat cross-legged on the living room floor surrounded by stacks of folders, envelopes, and Gerard’s brown leather laptop bag.
A fire burned gently in the fireplace, creating flickering shadows against the walls.
She was grateful for the quiet—everyone had opted for an afternoon nap that lasted long into the early evening.
Zoe startled her when she walked into the living room, cradling a mug in her hands.
Her fingers trembled slightly. She sat on the sofa, curled her legs beneath her bottom.
Remi sat across from her, silent, patient, her eyes steady but not pressing.
She opened Gerard’s laptop and began trying to retrieve his password.
The silence stretched, thick but gentle.
Finally, Zoe exhaled. “I found out I was pregnant right before Thanksgiving break.”
Remi didn’t flinch. She only nodded slowly.
“I didn’t tell anyone. Not even Bas, at first. I couldn’t. It didn’t feel … real, at first. A real little one growing inside of me.” She paused, her voice catching. “I was so scared, Mom. Not just of being pregnant, but of what it would mean. It would change everything.”
Remi reached over, placed her hand lightly on Zoe’s leg.
“Then I told Bas I was pregnant. He was so happy. Such an idiot.” She smiled a bit, forcing the tears to restrain themselves.
Remi couldn’t help but smile too.
Zoe swallowed hard. “He kept saying it would be okay, we would figure it out, together. He said we’d get through it, that we needed to come up with a plan. I thought we had time to figure it out. But then I started bleeding … and suddenly the baby was gone. That was terrifying.”
Remi’s lips parted, but she didn’t speak.
“It happened so fast,” Zoe said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“One day I was pregnant, and the next … I wasn’t.
I didn’t tell anyone; I just went to the student health clinic and got checked out.
Then I came back to my dorm like nothing happened.
I didn’t even cry that day. Not really. I just felt empty. ”
Remi moved to the couch next to Zoe, grabbed her hand and gripped it tightly.
“It was like this invisible loss,” Zoe continued.
“Like no one would believe how much it hurt because it was over before anyone even knew. And Bas … he kept calling, texting, wanting to know what was going on with me. I just … I told him that I lost the baby, but then I shut him out. I didn’t know how to be with him anymore without falling apart. ”
Tears finally welled in Zoe’s eyes. She blinked them away. “I didn’t know what to do … so, I just carried it alone. Told myself I was strong enough. But I wasn’t.”
Remi didn’t hesitate. She pulled Zoe into her arms and held her tightly; fiercely, like she was trying to protect her from every hurt she couldn’t undo. Her own eyes stung, her throat thick. The ache in her chest swelled.
“You should never have had to go through that alone,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “I would’ve carried it with you. All of it.”
Zoe broke down. The tears came hard. The sobs shook her shoulders. She seemed to bury the pain into her mother’s embrace. Remi held her like she was five and scared of a thunderstorm.
“I’m so sorry you went through this alone,” Remi murmured. “So sorry I didn’t see it.”
Zoe shook her head. “You couldn’t have known. I didn’t let anyone in.”
“But I’m in now. You hear me?” Remi pulled back just enough to see her face. “Whatever this next chapter looks like—for both of us, we’ll do it together.”
Zoe nodded, tears streaking down her cheeks.
Remi kissed her forehead, then stood up, wiping her own eyes.
They stayed like that for a while, both trying to catch their breath from the heaviness of what had been shared. Remi held her baby just a little longer. “I have something I need to tell you, sweetheart.”
Zoe wiped her tears, her eyes widening. She looked up at her mother, searching her face. “What is it, Mom?”
“I can completely relate to what you’re feeling,” Remi said softly, “because I’ve been there, where you are now. When your dad and I were in college, I got pregnant. It was before you. Before we were married.”
Zoe blinked. “What?” she whispered.
Remi’s voice cracked, and she swallowed hard. “It was a boy. We were going to name him Gerard, a junior. Gerard 2.0 was the silly nickname we’d come up with.” She chuckled, tried to catch her breath. “But—” her voice broke.
Zoe reached out, gently placing her hand on her mother’s cheek.