Page 10 of Resolute

I don’t call my brother often. If I need something, I usually text.

“Okay, so you’re telling me Mom and Dad are in London?” he says.

“Yes, arsehole. Keep up.”

“And you didn’t know they were coming? Mom has been talking with Isa about coming to see us for over a month.”

That’s great. Even my brother’s girlfriend is more in tune with my parents than I am.

“I’ve been busy. Mrs. Evans might have had to remind me they were coming a time or two,” I admit.

A booming laugh echoes through the phone. I roll my eyes at my brother, even though he can’t see me.

“You’re so full of shit, Vicente. Busy with what? You have more money than you know what to do with. All you have to do is not lose it. Why do you need to make more?”

If I don’t continue investing and making more money, as my brother says, what am I going to do with the rest of my life? He’s an architect with his own construction company, and he’s been hired by billionaires around the world to design their dream projects. But me? As my father so pointedly reminded me, I’ve spent my entire life training to become the next manager of Hacienda Carmen.

Move back to Chile, take charge of the vineyard.

My internal voice nags at me, but the truth is, I don’t know if that’s what I want to do. Moving back to bumfuck Alamo Peaks after living in London for over a decade doesn’t seem appealing in the slightest.

“Anyway,” I say into the phone. “I just thought I’d warn you about the parents heading your way, but I guess you already knew.”

“Yeah, thanks, but Isa has been preparing for their visit. Given that she doesn’t have a relationship with her parents, she’s ecstatic to spend some time with ours.”

Huh, I guess this thing between Isa and Gabo is serious then.

“Especially with Mom,” Gabo continues. “And now that Karina had Enzo, Mom wanted one last trip to see us because she refuses to leave her first grandchild’s side. Her words, not mine.”

“Yeah, well. I’m glad everything isfucking great. Talk later.” I hang up and feel all the calm I’d found while showering is gone.

When I get downstairs, it’s easy to find my parents. The sound of classical music drifts from my studio. My mother is having tea and biscuits, while my father reads the newspaper.

“Are you ready to talk, Vicente?” he asks without looking up.

When I don’t reply, he continues. “I’m sorry our visit caught you by surprise, but it’s something we’ve been talking about for a while. Just like the plan for you to take over the vineyard isn’t new. You’ve known about it since you were a teenager.”

Finally, he folds the newspaper and gives me his undivided attention. “Maybe it was my fault for letting you stay in London after you finished your studies. But you were an adult then—I trusted you to know what you were doing.”

He rises from the chair and walks slowly toward me. Seeing him in my house feels…different.

Back home, he seemed larger than life—a man respected and liked by everyone. But here in my space, he looks tired. His salt and pepper hair has replaced the deep chestnut I remember when I was little. His hazel eyes, still vibrant, give away more than he realizes.

He turned sixty last fall, and I can understand him wanting a slower pace of life.

For the first time, I see things through his eyes.

I place my hand on his shoulder and squeeze gently. Looking him in the eye, I say, “You deserve this break, Father. And you too, Mother,” I add, leaning my head to catch her eye. “I’ll take charge of the vineyard while you visit Gabo and Isa. But where the fuck did this idea of me getting married come from?”

“Language,” my mother admonishes me from her chair.

I murmur an apology but don’t take my eyes off my father.

“Son, you said it yourself—you’re thirty-five. When are you going to slow down and make time for what’s really important?” His tone is softer than I expected, catching me off guard.

“I don’t understand what getting married has to do with anything?” I reply, pacing the room as agitation builds.

“Vicente, we’ve seen the changes in both your siblings since they found love,” my mother says. “I don’t want you to grow old alone. I know how dedicated you are to your work, but movingback to Chile and giving your all to the vineyard will turn you into a modern-day Mr. Scrooge.”

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