Page 60 of A Vintage of Regret
“Don’t sell yourself short.”
“I’m not.” He reached across the counter, snagging one of the muffins his father had pulled from the cupboard earlier. “We’ve come to terms with our past. We put it all out there. Worked through it. In the end, her chasing her dreams was the right thing, and we both know it.”
“I feel a but coming.”
“It’s not that. It’s just that since she’s been back, she’s feeling a little more grounded here. She’d made some good headway with Grant and Erin. She wants her family back in her life. She didn’t come out and say she planned on staying. However, she did make it sound like it was an… option.”
“And you’re afraid this thing with Grant will make her run again.”
Bryson shook his head. “She wants to find where she fits. To put roots in the ground.” He lifted his gaze. “I’m worried that love isn’t enough.”
“Ah. I see.” His father leaned forward, resting both hands on the island. “Love is alwaysenough.” His dad tapped his temple. “It’s our brain that meddles with our heart.” His voice softened with the weight of experience. “When your mother and I first got together, she used to believe she wasn’t good enough becauseshe didn’t come from money. That her family came from the wrong side of town. She used to constantly worry that people wouldn’t accept her.”
“But Grandma and Pops were so well-respected. They did so much for Stone Bridge. And they started that damn garden party.”
His father chuckled. “They did. But it was a success in part because they weren’t rich people putting on a show. They were regular folk raising money for people who had even less than they did.”
“Most people—rich or poor—will open their wallets for a good cause.”
“Most good people,” his father said. “But rich folk often make it about themselves. When your mom and I took over, we kept up with the tradition of it being fun and for everyone. There wasn’t a silent auction. There were no two-hundred-thousand-dollar prizes to bid on that only a handful of people could afford. And frankly, we raised just as much, if not more. It’s why your mother’s so bitter about it all.”
“But anyone can donate.”
“That’s true, but half this town felt left out once Monica took over. They felt their three-hundred-dollar donation wasn’t enough. Or that they’d be laughed at because they couldn’t bid on the Porsche that the dealership donated. So, that’s when your mom decided to start taking up a collection, matching whatever she manages to raise.”
“That’s usually one of the biggest donations, and it burns Monica’s ass, because she thinks it takes away from others participating in her precious auction. Everyone wants to see how much Mom’s going to raise.”
“It gives your mother great satisfaction. And then she sends thank-you cards to each and every person. It’s a win-win in her book,” his father said. “But we’ve derailed a little.”
His father rose and went to the small bookshelf in the corner. He lifted the latest family portrait. “Love isn’t always easy.” His dad set the picture in front of Bryson, tapping his finger on the image of him, and then his brother and his two sisters. “I fell in love with your mother, in part, because she took my breath away. She was not only the most beautiful woman I’d ever met, but more importantly, she’s also the kindest, sweetest, most genuine person who won’t ever let me get away with my own bullshit. Having a family with her has been the best thing I’ve ever done.”
Jerking a thumb over his shoulder, he added, “I’m prouder of that than I am of what I did out there in the vines. I love this legacy. I’m grateful I can pass it down to my children. But none of it really matters without this.” He traced his finger over the frame. “Love has to be enough.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“What would you and Mom have done if one of us ever moved away?”
His father smiled. “We would’ve helped you pack your bags and then cried our eyes out in private.” He sipped his coffee. “Where’s this coming from? Are you considering leaving if Riley wants to?”
“I don’t want to lose her again.” Bryson sighed. “But I don’t know if she’s even mine to lose, and this winery is my life. I can’t imagine being anywhere else. But I was curious, more than anything. I’ve never felt like I was obligated to be part of the family business. Or that you’d be disappointed if I hadn’t.”
“I love working side by side with my children,” his father said. “But I’m amazed and in awe of the people you’ve become. That’s more important. And if opportunity… or love…” he smiled. “Took you somewhere else, well, your mother and I would support you.”
“One more question,” Bryson said. “Why haven’t you pressured any of us to get married or have children?”
His dad lowered his chin and lifted his mug. “You’re joking, right? Your mother drops hints all the time.”
“About finding partners to share our lives with, but not about kids.”
“Because your life is not ours to live.”
Bryson took a small bite of his muffin, chewing more on the love and respect he had for his parents than the food that went into his mouth. Growing up, there’d been expectations. Things like getting good grades, being a decent human, and following the rules were important, but his parents had given their children a lot of room to make mistakes.
And every single one of them had made plenty.
Bryson more than the rest.
