Page 9 of Just Like This
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The next morning,I was up before the sun. My body was accustomed to rising early, and it didn’t differentiate between being home and being on base. I brewed a fresh pot of coffee, poured a cup, then sat out on the front porch of the guest cottage and watched the sun rise over the acres and acres of land. The light of day bathed everything in a soft golden glow, and the fog that had settled overnight started to dissipate from the rolling hills. The smell of the damp earth hit my nose as I inhaled its sharp, pungent smell. Slowly, the sounds of the vineyard coming to life filtered up to me. Birds chirping mixed with the sounds of trucks roaring to life. The winery was alive in more ways than one, and I loved seeing it come to life. With one final sip of my coffee, it was time to get my day started.
I laced up my running shoes and set off for the vineyard. In high school, I ran track and would get in my miles between the rows and rows of petite Syrah and Cabernet Sauvignon. As I ran, I admired the property. Taking over the winery was never my life’s ambition. Truthfully, I didn’t have much ambition as a teenager. The only thing in life I was adamant about was not running the winery. I rebelled against my father’s expectations at eighteen and never looked back.
I jogged through row after row until I was breathless. I slowed my paced to a walk and then spread my arms, letting the tips of my fingertips touch the leaves and the fruit that was just starting to ripen. Soon, it would all become Hammond Wines.
I had spent hours and hours with the vines, inspecting each row, tasting the fruit, running my fingers through the dusty earth. The weather had been dry, and according to my brother’s monthly emails, there had already been two massive fires in the area. This year’s harvest was going to have a little bit of a smokiness.
“You’re back?” The familiar sound of Oliver’s voice startled me. Seeing him out so early was unexpected until I realized that this was his life and his job now. He was running Hammond Wines, and this was my first glimpse of seeing him in charge. Squinting into the sunlight, I examined my brother, noting all the ways he had changed. Eighteen months separated us, but sometimes he seemed older. Dressed in old, faded jeans and a Hammond Wines T-shirt, he had a layer of sweat covering his forehead that meant Oliver had probably been awake before me.
“Up at it pretty early, Ollie?” I asked.
“Are you back, Garrett? For good?” Oliver didn’t pull any punches or bother with trivial pleasantries. There was no talk of the weather or my recent deployment or even our favorite baseball team, the Giants. He was all business.
I shook my head in reply. “No, Ollie. I still have a year left. I’m just on leave for the next thirty days.”
“And then are you coming back to take over?” It was hard to tell if the tremor in his voice was from nerves or excitement.
I started to walk, and Oliver followed. That was the million-dollar question. When my current enlistment was over, would I return and take over Hammond Wines? I knew I couldn’t because I finally recognized the emotion in his voice; he wasn’t happy to have me home. He was worried I’d take everything away from him. If Dad was happy with how he ran the business, then I’d never fight him for control.
“I don’t know yet, Ollie. But you don’t have to worry; I’d never take Hammond Wines from you.”
Inadvertently, we walked to a spot in the middle of the vineyard where a granite bench rested. I traced my fingers silently over the engraved name of our mother in the center. Not being with her when she died was my one regret in life. She was too sick to travel when I graduated from boot camp, and then my Army commitments took me away before I had the chance to visit her one last time. The opportunity to say goodbye or make amends or share one more “I love you” was gone in an instant. A heavy silence settled between my brother and me as we sat surrounded by the acres and acres of land she loved dearly. These vines were her life, and I broke her heart when I enlisted after high school.
“Show me the tasting room.” The silence shattered, and Oliver looked up at me blankly. I motioned toward the end of the row. “Come on. I want to see what you’ve done with it.”
I followed Oliver to an ATV parked nearby, and we headed back to the main property. My father started Hammond Wines by himself. He inherited the run-down property from a childless great-uncle who had left the land in complete disarray. My father made it his mission to resurrect the land and the varietals it produced. When he married my mother, she brought her family’s sizeable acreage in Rutherford. They were the perfect pair; he had the business knowledge, and she understood the complex soil that had the power to give and the power to take away. My parents were incredibly proud of the empire they created, and my father expected his sons to follow in his footsteps.
The main house, where he still lived and ran the business, dominated the entrance to the winery. Having the family home front and center was a statement; this was a family-run winery, and the family still lived on the land. A series of production buildings sat in the back of the property and just behind the main house was the tasting room. The guest cottage, where I stayed, was down a dusty path far from the day-to-day business.
I watched employees greet Oliver with warmth but look at me with suspicion. It didn’t bother me because I was a stranger to them. The only one who knew me was the manager, Ivan. Seeing the respect he received from his employees made me proud of my brother.
Oliver steered me toward the tasting room and talked me through all of the recent improvements. He was excited about every single one of them, which made me eager to spend the day with him, pouring our family’s wines and learning about the business he’d transformed.
“Let me get cleaned up and I’ll come and work with you in the tasting room,” I said once we were back outside.
“Yeah?” I nodded, and his smile grew. “Awesome. It’s so good to have you home, Garrett.”
“It actually feels good to be back.”
