Chapter Forty-one Remi
Chapter Forty-one
Remi
End of Summer
Remi sat in her office, resting in the comfort of the leather chair, allowing it to draw her in as she reviewed inventory lists and skimmed through budgets.
The quiet rhythm of paperwork balanced by the liveliness just beyond her walls.
She smiled at the sound of familiar commotion—the chime of the front door as customers came and went, their voices raised in laughter and conversations.
A private tasting was underway in the tasting room next door—a group of women celebrating someone’s birthday.
Conversation and light giggles filled that room.
From farther back she could hear Paloma’s voice carrying through the hallway as she led a small group through the barrel room, giving them a tour, pointing out vintages, offering the history behind the wines and the Ortiz vineyard.
The winery was alive in every room. It had been busy since the day she opened the doors for the first time.
Their schedule was booked through December with tastings, tours, and private events.
Poetry nights had become a regular thing; on Thursdays people faithfully gathered in the barrel room, wine in hand, to hear local poets spill their rhymes.
The energy on those nights was electric and intimate.
And Friday nights belonged to jazz. Couples and strangers alike filled the garden, drawn from as far away as San Francisco and Oakland.
Under the strings of white lights, saxophones and bass guitars serenaded guests.
Joie wasn’t just a business anymore. It had become home to some, a regular hangout, and a cozy retreat for others.
When her phone rang she glanced at the screen. Zoe’s face lit it up, framed in curls—she’d taken down her braids. Remi’s heart was warmed as she swiped to answer.
“Hello, sweetheart. What’s going on?”
“Mom, how are you?”
“I’m good,” Remi said, leaning back into her chair. “Busy but good. We have a full tasting today and the Friday night setup starts in a couple of hours. Jazz tonight.”
“Oh, the usual trio?”
“Yes. People love them. And we have a food truck coming in to set up—good food,” Remi said. “What about you? How’s school?”
“Chaotic. My professor just pushed our project deadline up two days, so I might not get any sleep for the next forty-eight hours.”
Remi smiled. “You’ll be fine. You always are.”
There was a pause, and then Zoe said, “I saw the pictures online—seems Joie has a lot going on these days.”
“It’s been busy,” Remi said. “Have you seen Mila on campus?”
“All the time. She’s making new friends. Seems to be doing okay.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“How’s Aunt B?”
“Good. She comes down at least twice a week to help out at the winery. She’s looking for a new retail space right now. Hoping to bring Chic Threads to California.”
“Wow, that’s amazing.” Zoe smiled. “Mila has been working part-time at the one in the French Quarter. I might apply for a job during Christmas. I could use some extra cash. Take the weight off of you, Mom.”
“Don’t you worry about me. Whatever you need, you let me know,” Remi said. “Though getting a job is not a bad idea. Nothing beats a hard day’s work.”
“Mostly I just want new clothes at a discount.” Zoe laughed.
“Well, there it is. The truth.” Remi laughed too.
“How are you and Aunt B getting along, anyway? Are things better?”
“They are better,” Remi told her as she gazed out her window and saw Bianca’s car backing into a space. “In fact she just pulled up. She’s going to help out tonight.”
“Good, I’m glad to hear it.” Zoe smiled brightly. “Anyway, I have to go, Mom. A few of us are going out for pizza, and they’re all waiting for me. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Have fun, baby. I love you.”
“Love you, too, Mom. Take care.”
Remi watched as Bianca stepped out of her Mercedes SUV, a pair of Ray-Bans on her face, a bottle of mineral water in her hand. Her hair had grown a bit, her face was full, her signature lipstick was on her lips. She wore a colorful sundress that hugged her curves.
A minute later she was standing in the doorway of Remi’s office. “Is Scott working the bar today?” Bianca asked. “There’s a gentleman out there looking for two bottles of rosé.”
“Can you grab them for him?” Remi asked.
“I’ll take care of it.” Bianca disappeared down the hall, her sandals click-clacking against the hardwoods.
She was back a few minutes later and seated on the opposite side of Remi’s desk. They chatted briefly before preparing for the night’s event.
It was a full house at Joie. The garden was filled with laughter and pulsed with life—every table taken, every chair filled with conversation. Glasses clinked and laughter drifted in the air. The white lights glowed overhead as darkness fell upon the garden.
The jazz band played, and tonight they’d brought a vocalist—an older man wearing a suit and a bow tie, who moved through the crowd singing in a deep baritone. He wove between the tables as he sang, connecting with the crowd, allowing them to sing along occasionally.
Along the gravel path, the food trucks formed a colorful row, each with its own menu—one selling Cajun dishes, one fried catfish, and one smoked barbecue ribs on a huge pit. One of them handed out warm slices of pound cake in wax paper baskets.
It was one of those nights that felt like summer would never end.
Music moved through the garden like it would live there forever.
But Remi knew better. Summer was winding down.
She could feel it in the shift of the evening breeze, and she hated to see it go.
This was Joie’s first summer—its first real breath—and it had bloomed into more than she could have imagined.
The laughter, the music, the poetry, the people who came from near and far just to be a part of it.
She knew the nostalgia of this summer would live in her long after it was over. There was a certain magic in firsts, and she wasn’t sure the summers that followed would match the feeling of this one.
But for now she lived in the moment. And she intended to soak in every second of it.