Page 10 of A Taste of Chardonnay

“You seem to forget, we’re the parents,” Mom added.

Normally I’d agree, but they’d been traipsing all over Europe since Grandpa died, acting like they were back in their twenties and not grandparents themselves.

“Yeah, yeah.” I rolled my eyes, not like they could see me. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Gee, we can’t wait.” Dad’s sarcasm wasn’t even masked.

“Just be grateful that one of your children cares enough to check on your wellbeing, and remember I will be the one picking your nursing home, so you better be nice to me.”

“Can’t we just move in with you?” Dad asked.

“No,” I said without hesitation. After living with two sisters and four brothers, I enjoyed my very quiet house away from the chaos. Just thinking of how Dad always managed to leave spills of sugar on the counter every morning after he made his coffee, or how Mom never used a coaster, would send me into a spiral.

“I told you she doesn’t love us,” Dad said.

“Goodbye.” With a laugh, I hung up, then my brain kicked in. When was the last time they updated their will? I juggled what I was holding and retrieved my phone, adding it to my to do list. I’d ask them later. It was better to be prepared, especially when it came to their future and their wishes going forward… in case they everwereto become incapacitated.

I got in the car that I had started twenty minutes ago, and once I was on the road, I called Sherry.

“Morning!” Her cheery voice came over the speakers of my car.

“Do you know if Mom and Dad want to be buried or cremated?” I asked.

She sputtered. “And good morning to you.”

“Morning. Do you know?”

“Weird way to start my morning. I have no idea. Why would you even ask that?”

“Because it’s something we should know.”

“Why? Are they sick? Did they tell you something? Oh my God. Who’s dying?”

“No one is dying, Sher. It’s just information we should know.”

“I don’t want to know. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“It’s part of life.”

“How can you be so deadpan about this? Jesus, Char. I know emotions aren’t your thing, but for fuck sakes, this is a bit much.”

“It’s an important topic we can’t ignore. Grandpa had everything set in place, and that made it easy on Mom and Dad and all of us when he passed.”

“He was also two and a half decades older than they are now. Can we, I don’t know, wait until they are at least in their seventies before we talk about this?”

“Mom’s sixty-seven and Dad’s sixty-eight. It’s close enough.”

“No, it’s not!”

“You’re being emotional.”

“And you’re not being emotional enough. Char, I love you, but I need to finish getting ready. I’ll see you at the winery.”

With a sigh, I clicked off the call. I thought about asking Laurent, but he was getting ready to get on a plane, and if I called Mom and Dad back, they would probably react in the same way as Sherry. I would just have to move it to down on my to-do list and wait until I spoke with them again.

I pulled into the parking lot of Vine Valley Vineyards, our family business and Grandpa’s legacy, and parked in my spot. Grabbing my bags and mug, I headed inside.

Nero stood behind the bar, prepping for when we opened and people started to filter in for tastings or to enjoy a glass on the deck, overlooking the vineyard.

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