Page 62 of A Taste of Chardonnay

“Char,” Mom said too softly, and I knew she was about to drop words of wisdom on the table like it didn’t take her decades to accumulate it. “Our entire lives we have dedicated to the vineyard, planning and working days into nights. It’s time for us to enjoy the fruits of our labor, both literally and figuratively. The vineyard is in good hands.Yourhands. We trust all of you completely.”

Their confidence in me, in us, was a testament to their parenting. But were all the I’s dotted? “But what if—”

"No buts," Dad cut me off. “You’ve got this. And besides, it’s not like we’re going to just up and disappear. If you need us, we’re a phone call away.”

“Or a flight,” Mom added. “We might be in Italy, or we might be in the Maldives. Haven’t quite decided where we’re going next.”

I glanced around at all my siblings, each reassuring me in their own way. Then I landed on Laurent. He was right. We were a great team. We’d practically been running the vineyard since Mom and Dad decided to head off like teenagers on a gap year. I held my wine glass up. “I guess we should celebrate.”

“That’s my girl!” Dad said, holding his glass high. “We have a lot to be thankful for, and we can still go around the table, but I just want to say I am thankful for this moment. For my kids who make me so damn proud and for the kids who, in my eyes, are just as much blood as my own.”

Brady flashed in my mind, and I wished he was here for this, cementing himself as part of the family, but we all had our journeys, and Brady was still on his. I hoped one day his journey would bring him to the home that had always been his.

“To family,” Sherry said.

“And new successes,” Rose added.

“To whatever the hell we want,” Dad said.

As we clinked the glasses together, a sense of calm washed over me. I didn’t feel the need to go and create Mom and Dad an itinerary or make a checklist for them to make sure they didn’t forget anything of importance. I couldn’t believe I was actually thinking this, but Rhone was right.

Not everything in life needed to be planned.

After we made our rounds around the table, everyone saying what they were thankful for, while Gio asked if we could eat yet after each person finished, we finally dug in. It took days to prepare everything and nearly twenty minutes for everyone to be stuffed.

We all pitched in to clear the table and clean up. It was a team effort, as it always was. Lainey brought out cake after cake, placing them on the now cleared table. She also added a pumpkin pie, a pecan pie, and an apple pie. I had no idea who she thought was going to eat all of this.

“Franc, can you run this plate to Brady?” Mom said, knowing damn well the stubborn bastard was sitting at home alone with Jack.

Franc took the plate, and I reached for it. “I’ll go,” I said, expecting Mom’s head to rear back in shock, but instead she just handed me the plate without a word.

Franc’s eyebrow arched. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

I proceeded to the foyer, placed the plate on the solid wood console table Grandpa made years ago with the wood from the old barn, and put my coat on. Mom met me at the door. “Word on the street is you and Brady have succumbed to the years of sexual tension.”

“Jesus, Mom. Have some decorum.”

“In this family?” Mom’s eyebrows shot toward the reading glasses she was currently using as a headband. “Wyatt just smacked your sister’s ass, your nephew told us that male and female turkey droppings are shaped differently before forking a piece of said turkey in his mouth, Sutton laughed so hard soda came out of her nose, and your father announced to hold his calls for the next hour, then marched toward the bathroom. There is no decorum in this house.”

I wrapped my scarf around my neck and sighed. “I forgot where I was for a second.”

Mom grabbed my hand and squeezed. “In all seriousness, are you happy?”

“I haven’t taken time to think about it, but…” A smile curved my lips, heat filled my cheeks. “I am.”

“Good. I am so happy for you.” Mom hugged me, and before I could process or attempt an awkward hug back, she released my stiff body. “Brady’s been through a lot, and I don’t want to see him hurt.”

“In case you forgot, I’m your daughter.”

“And you are the best daughter. You’re strong, independent, smart, and capable of anything you put your mind to.”

“But?”

“But you can also be confrontational and lack compassion.”

“I don’t lack compassion.”

---