We’re Dreaming of a Wine Christmas Pour Decisions

Chapter 1

CHRISTMAS MORNING

It’s been a long time since this house has celebrated Christmas.

The sun is barely above the horizon, but the kitchen is already full of the scent of cinnamon and icing, and Rosa is humming along to the holiday music playing on the tiny speaker on the counter.

She checks the list on the kitchen table—because, let’s be honest, when does our girl not have a list?—and starts pulling things out of the fridge. There’s a lot to do today, and not a lot of time.

“Merry Christmas!” Bianca yells from down the entryway, the front door banging open as she comes in. “Just gonna drop the presents under the tree first. I assume you’re in the kitchen?”

Rosa grins. “Called it in one,” she answers. “And close that door. You’re letting all the heat out.”

Bianca pokes her head around the kitchen doorway. “You’re just trying to make me cry, aren’t you?”

“Aww.” Rosa kisses the top of her head and gestures at the table. “Someone had to say it.”

She doesn’t finish the thought, but they both know it’s because Nonna isn’t here to say it herself.

Christmas without the matriarch is still a little rough.

But the holidays have been rough for a while, even before Nonna’s passing. At least now they’re together, and sisters again. Just as Nonna had intended, with her decision to leave the winery to them.

And look at it now! Growing, and thriving, and by the end of the day, this house will be filled with people and love and laughter, as it always should be.

Rosa sticks an oven mitt on her hand and opens the oven door, bending down to check what’s inside.

“Oh my God,” Bianca gasps. “You made cinnamon rolls?”

Rosa nods. “Nonna’s recipe.”

Bianca grabs the tea towel hanging on the fridge. “Dammit, you really did make me cry.”

“What’s Christmas without Nonna’s cinnamon rolls?”

Bianca nods and wipes her eyes with the tea towel. “Okay, enough of that. Where’s Jake?” She looks over her shoulder at Rosa. “Isn’t he helping with prep today?”

Rosa shakes her head. “No, he had to go pick up his parents in San Luis Obispo. Their car broke down.”

“Oh no!” Bianca says. “Will they make it back in time for dinner?”

“That’s the plan.” Rosa glances at the vintage clock on the wall above the sink—the one made from an old barrel end with the words “It’s always wine o’clock” burned into the oak. “They were hoping to get on the road by now, so with any luck...”

“Good.” Bianca has turned away and is slipping a bottle of wine into the fridge, so she misses her sister’s slight flinch when she adds, “No problem then. They’ll be here in plenty of time.”

Unless they hit traffic, Rosa opens her mouth to say; or something else goes wrong. But she quickly checks the impulse. There’s no sense tempting fate, after all. Instead, she asks, “Where’s Jansen this morning. Wasn’t he coming to help?”

Bianca grins. “He’ll be here in a bit. He’s out with the Santa Squad, at the moment,” she says, naming a popular team of local volunteers who spend their Christmas mornings delivering gifts of toys, clothes and groceries to shelters and other community spaces throughout the valley. “Spreading holiday cheer.”

“Oh, nice,” Rosa says as she removes the pan of cinnamon rolls from the oven and transfers it onto the marble countertop. “Seems like he’s really getting involved with the community then?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Bee replies, grinning widely.

The delicious scent rising from the bubbly, golden-brown pastries on the counter—a heavenly combination of cinnamon, cardamom, nutmeg, and sugar—makes the sisters’ mouths water.

“Mm. Let’s hurry up and get those iced!” Bianca urges.

“On it,” Rosa responds, moving towards the refrigerator. “Oh, and by the way, Bee, there’s coffee, if you want some.”

“Well, of course there is,” Bianca replies—she would have expected nothing less. “Where’s your mug? Want me to top it up for you?”

With a nod toward her bright red, Naughty Is The New Nice Christmas mug Rosa answers, “Yes, please.”

As she retrieves the bowl of cream cheese icing that’s been chilling in the fridge, Rosa observes that there are now two bottles of sparkling wine nestled together in the wine drawer—the Blanc de Blanc she put there yesterday afternoon, and the bottle Bianca just added.

Great minds, she thinks with a secretive smile.

Excitement bubbles up inside her as she contemplates how her sisters might react to her news.

Rosa has just finished icing the cinnamon rolls when the front door slams open once again, signaling the youngest Martinelli sister’s arrival.

Allegra’s voice, raised in song, drifts in from the hallway.

“We’re dreaming of a white wine Christmas, our stockings stuffed with piccolos.

Crystal glasses glisten and we all listen to hear the pop of prosecco!

Oh, we’re dreaming of a white wine Christmas with every Christmas tree we light.

May your drinks be bubbly and bright and may all your vintages be white! ”

“Close the door!” Rosa and Bianca shout in tandem. Allegra joins in on the second part, “You’re letting all the heat out!”

“God, I miss her!” Allegra says as she joins her sisters in the kitchen. She’s wearing a blinking, Christmas light necklace this morning and a glittery, black Christmas sweater.

“So, what’s with the song?” Bianca teases after they’ve all greeted each other with hugs. “What have you got against red wine, all of a sudden?”

“Not a thing,” Allegra responds as she unpacks two four-packs of Prosecco splits (AKA piccolos) from her reusable shopping bag. “Obviously, I love red wine.” She gestures at the red-and-silver rhinestone wine glass on her sweater. “But these work better for toasts.”

“More sparkling wine,” Rosa observes. That can’t be coincidence, can it? “So…is there a reason we’re all suddenly thinking about making toasts today? Do either of you have something you want to share?”

Bianca glances at her sharply. “Why do you ask? Isn’t it enough that it’s Christmas?”

“Ye-es. But it seems odd that we all had the same idea.”

“Wait—what?” Allegra looks from one to the other of her sisters. “No way. Do you both have something to celebrate today, too?”

“Mm…more like I have an announcement to make,” Rosa replies.

“Yeah,” Bianca says, looking startled. “That. Me, too.”

“Well, great,” Allegra says, looking a little crestfallen. “Me, three. But I was going to wait until Clay gets here to do it.”

“Okay. So, where is he?” Bianca asks. “When’s he getting here?”

“Working a half-day,” Allegra tells her. “Probably not until after dinner. What about your guys?”

“Jake’s driving back from SLO,” Rosa responds.

“Jansen’s playing Santa until noon,” Bianca says.

“So, it’s just us?” Allegra says. “Le tre sorelle? Alone at last?”

“For the moment,” Rosa replies cautiously. “Why?”

“Because it’s given me an idea.”

“Really?” Bianca asks. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“That I’m gonna burst if I don’t tell someone soon?” Allegra responds nodding excitedly. “And that maybe we should have a sister toast now, and share our news—just the three of us—and then do another toast later?”

Bianca nods more thoughtfully. “Well, we have more than enough wine for several toasts and it would be a shame to waste it. Rosa?”

“Absolutely. I’ll get out the wine flutes.”

“I’ll open the wine,” Bianca says. “It’s a really good Torrontés-Chardonnay blend, from Argentina.”

“Mm. Sounds delish,” Allegra replies. “I’mma just sample one of these rolls while you—”

“Allegra!”

“Just kidding! But I am going to put the pan on the table. And make a fresh pot of coffee. And—”

“I’ll make the coffee,” Bianca says hurriedly. “Why don’t you get out the breakfast plates, and the silverware, and set the table?”

“All right, all right,” Allegra replies. “But hurry up! I have so much to tell you, and I can’t wait to hear all your news as well!”