Page 5 of Choose You

“Night.”

Drivingdown Main Street of my hometown, everything looks the same, yet feels very different.

The buildings themselves haven’t changed, but some of the store fronts are new. It’s nearing the end of August which also means tourist season is at its peak. The crowded sidewalks indicate this season is just as busy as ever.

Come Friday, Main Street will shut down in the evening in preparation of the weekend festival. This town loves its summer festivals. The locals may argue they do it for the tourists, and while there’s truth to that, they organize them for themselves even more.

There’s not a lot to do in a small, remote town like Watercress Falls. The summer festivals give year-round residents a way to gather and socialize while also boosting local economy. It’s a win-win, really.

My family always ran a booth at these festivals as a way to attractvisitors to the vineyard. I wonder if Uncle Jimmy kept that up. Now that he’s gone, who will continue in his place?

As I near the end of Main Street, I smile as the familiar sign for Sweet Cakes and Coffee comes into view. “Thank God, that hasn’t changed.”

Sweet Cakes has been in business for decades. New owners took over after I graduated high school—a woman and her husband a few years older than me. Thankfully, it doesn’t look like they changed it too much. I make a mental note to stop by while I’m in town.

Leaving Main Street, the road leads me toward the all too familiar mountain road that will take me to my childhood home. But it doesn’t feel like home anymore. I’d hoped being here would be enough to reconnect me to the place I once loved more than anything. But it isn’t. I feel like a stranger—an interloper. It’s a feeling I hate.

As I turn onto the last road that will take me to my family vineyard—or should I saymyvineyard—I’m filled with a sense of longing.

Growing up, I spent countless days with our head vintner, Nick, learning everything there was to know about wine making. From cultivating the land to optimizing it for grape production to harvesting to processing to bottling. I’d wanted to know it all. This was supposed to be my future, after all. Not my past.

What started out as a side hustle to learn how to apply all the things I’d learned in college turned into a multi-million-dollar enterprise. My business success made it easy to stay away. That wasn’t what I wanted, though. Losing my parents too young was hard, but Matthew’s marriage to another woman made it impossible to come back.

When the first glimpse of the mountain behind my family vineyard comes into view, tears escape my eyes. I quickly wipe them away. There’s no time for tears right now. I can cry later when I’m alone in my house. If I walk into my meeting with Richard all teary-eyed and weak, he’ll likely try to take advantage of my emotional state and lead me to a decision I’m not ready to make.

I can’t let him do that.

I pull up in front of The Wine Room, the tasting bar that’ssituated at the front of the winery. It looks the same as it always did. It’s a little run down and in need of a face lift. If I decide to sell it, I’ll have to invest some money into fixing this place up.

Not that I’m sure selling is an option I’m interested in exploring. Richard was pushing for that when he called. Whenever he got an idea in his mind, he pushed for it like it was the only option worth consideration. He means well, and he never did my family wrong. He just lacks tact and compassion. It’s partly why I never liked him. He’d just informed me my uncle died then expected me to make a decision about the property. Rational decisions aren’t something I’m going to be able to make anytime soon.

I step out of my car and breathe in deeply, filling myself with fresh mountain air. I’ve missed that local scent of clean pine and sweet grapes. It’s harvest time, and I can smell the newly picked grapes.

The main entrance door opens and Nick walks out with a welcoming smile. “Hey, Jessie Cat.”

I smile at my childhood nickname. No one has called me that since I left home. I used to hate it, mostly because of how it got started. I’ve always had a temper, but when I was six, Adam, our neighbors oldest son and Matthew’s brother, was picking on me. It was all in good fun, but I got upset. Instead of hitting him, I scratched his arm with my fingernails. He just laughed and called me Jessie Cat ever since. After a while, others started calling me that, too. Eventually, it grew on me.

He opens his arms for a hug and I rush to him, struggling with those damn tears again. “Nick, it’s so good to see you.”

“You too. I just wish you’d come home to happier circumstances.” Nick holds me tight. I forgot how good it feels to really be hugged. The last hug I had like this was five years ago under even worse times than now. “How you holding up?”

I bury my face in his chest, focus on slowing my breathing, and stopping these tears. “Oh, you know. I’ve been better.” I force a chuckle.

He pats my back, and kisses the top of my head. “I’ve no doubt about that.”

Nick’s a longtime family friend and has worked for the vineyardsince my father took over management. Growing up, he was as much a father figure as my own dad. We stayed in touch the first few years after I left for college. But just like with everyone else from here, I distanced myself from our relationship after my parents died.

“Sorry we lost contact.” My voice gives away to my tears as my words crack and a sniffle escapes.

“None of that now.” He hugs me tighter. “I just wish I was the one to call you. I’m sure Richard wasn’t the most compassionate in his delivery. That’s something worth being sorry about.”

That brings out a smile. “Ain’t that the truth. If I’d been within arm’s reach of him when he told me, I might’ve knocked him in the head. He delivered the news like it was unimportant and went straight to talk about selling. Like I could even think about something like that right now.”

“Well,” Nick pulls back and holds me at arm’s length. He wipes an escaped tear from my cheek. “I imagine you might hear a lot of talk about selling property while you’re here. So be prepared.”

“I’m not sure anything can prepare me for that kind of talk. I know I haven’t been here for a while, but I love this land. I can’t imagine it not being a part of my family.”

Nick smiles and squeezes my shoulders. “I’m glad to hear you say that, but that doesn’t change the conversation Richard is ready to have with you. Just to warn you, he’s angry you're late.”

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