Page 23 of One Last Night

“I can’t imagine it’s that serious. I don’t pretend to understand the wine business, but surely the contamination of a few barrels with a very common parasite has nothing to do with whatever might have happened in your past, and I truly can’t believe that Continental Vineyards will be devastated by this.”

She scoffs. “You sound like Julian. ‘You’re overreacting, Mom. It’s no big deal, Mom. I’ll take care of it, Mom.’”

“I didn’t mean to offend you, ma’am,” I apologize quickly. “I’m very sorry if it—”

“You’re fine,” she interrupts, flipping her hand. She finishes her glass but thankfully doesn’t pour herself another. “It’s not like you can say, ‘Oh yeah, you’re right, Victoria. You fucked up, and this is gonnasuck.” She giggles. “God, I sound like one of the twins.”

Her smile fades rapidly. Emotional instability is a ubiquitous trope of drunkenness. I have seen situations like this turn violent before. I believe it’s time for me to leave. I start to stand, but Victoria speaks before I can excuse myself. “I’m just afraid that I’ve cursed the family. Not just me. Sorry, the wine’s getting to me. I mean… I feel like the family is cursed. I’m not the first person to make this kind of mistake. I’m not the first person to suffer consequences for it either. Henry Bellamy’s wife had an affair with a rebel soldier, and she killed herself.”

I blink. That was mentioned nowhere in the diaries I read.

“Then the granddaughter… I forget her name… Um… whatever. She married a man she didn’t love, and he left her. The rest of the family never talked to her again. Then Parker’s grandmother… I think she cheated on another guy with his grandfather. God, I’m drunk. Anyway, she ended up getting dementia and forgetting that she married Parker’s grandpa. Kept asking for the other guy, the first one she married.” She giggles. “Oh boy. I think you’re right, I think I’ve had enough.”

Once again, her emotions flip. She stares at me with a vaguely frightened expression. “I loved Parker. I loved him so much. He was the only one I ever loved. I just made a mistake. It was nothing. It meant nothing. But it cost meeverything.”

It’s definitely time for this conversation to end. I can’t just leave her alone like this, though. “Victoria, let me help you to bed. We’re both exhausted and neither of us are entirely sober. It sounds as though you’ve had an incredibly trying day on top of all of this. Let’s get some rest. Things will seem better in the morning.”

“It’s my fault really,” she says. She allows me to help her up and lead her to the stairs, though, so that’s progress. “I just hate that Robert and Julian are fighting. Luann, you know, she fancies Robert’s boy, but they can’t do anything about it because Robert and Julian would besoangry.”

“I’m sure they’ll manage somehow,” I say drily.

I lead her carefully up the stairs. She clings to my arm tightly, as though afraid if she lets go, she’ll fall through the floor and straight to the hell she’s created for herself. She might not be wrong.

“I just want everyone to get along before it’s too late,” she continues to lament. “Before something worse happens. I just hate that everyone’s fighting, and now we’re going to lose the vineyard on the estate.”

We reach her door, but she stops before walking inside. She turns to me and says in a clearer voice than I’ve heard her use all evening. “I did this to make it up to Parker. I wanted his family’s legacy to survive. I wanted it to mean more than just a business. Julian doesn’t understand. He doesn’t know how important this was to Parker. I just wanted to do something for Parker so I didn’t go to my grave feeling like a complete traitor to his memory.”

I don’t know how to respond to that. I’m not sure there’s anything Icansay. She seems to realize this because she smiles and pats my shoulder. “You don’t need to worry about all of that, though. You just take care of the kids. Let me deal with the ghost of my dead husband.”

I know a thing or two about ghosts, so I do respond to that. “Just remember, Victoria. Ghosts are ghosts. They can’t hurt you.”

She gives me a sad smile. “I think you know that’s not true.”

She leaves me there, once more stunned into silence, and heads inside her room. I force myself to return to my own roomand go through the motions of getting ready for bed, but her words stay with me as I finally lay down to sleep.

She’s right, of course. Ghosts aren’t floating specters that can fling objects across rooms, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t real.

Ghosts are memories. And I know very well that memories can hurt a person more deeply than anything else.

CHAPTER TWELVE

“Do you ever think about leaving, Mary?”

I blink in surprise. “Leaving? Leaving where?”

Annie shrugs. “Anywhere.”

"Well… Not really. I hope to travel, of course, but I enjoy living in Boston. It has everything I need. It has all the conveniences of a large city, but there are also quaint and quiet suburbs. There are parks, and the ocean is beautiful. The winters are cold, but I like the snow, and I like that we have four seasons. The people… well, the people can be difficult, but I'm used to them. Why are you thinking about leaving?"

Annie scoffs. “I think about leaving all the time. Doesn’t mean I’ll ever do it. I just… Forget it. It’s not important. I think I’m just pissed off with Mom right now.”

I smile slightly. “When aren’t we pissed off with Mother?”

She turns to me. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Put on airs like that.”

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