Veronica
Forty-five minutes later, Charlie and I stood at the gate alone. A sedan came toward us down the dusty road, pulling to a stop at the gates. My grandfather opened the back door and stepped out at the same time as the driver, and I climbed into the car with Charlie on my lap.
“What is that?” he asked, a clear look of distaste on his face.
I scratched behind Charlie’s ear and held him on my lap. “It’s a puppy, Grandfather. His name is Charlie.”
“Does he have to join us?”
“Yes.”
He didn’t argue with me but gave me a resigned look. The driver closed the door, and we were off.
“No one to wave you off? Where is your sister?”
“Resting,” I lied. I knew he wouldn’t like knowing Robyn was in enemy hands. Although Stephen was hardly the enemy. Maybe he was my only ally. Funny how, just a few hours ago, I’d been thinking Stefan was my ally.
“And Stefan?”
“Meetings.”
“Does he know you’re with me?”
“No.”
“Good girl,” he said with a smile, shifting his gaze out the window.
“Why haven’t you ever brought us to the winery?”
“I wasn’t sure you’d be interested. You were both too young.”
“It’s our history. Of course we’d be interested.”
“Well, then forgive me my poor choice.”
His voice told me he didn’t want to talk anymore about it. And that was fine. Neither did I.
We drove in silence for a little while, Charlie making what could have been a long trip a little less awkward. The winery was located about an hour from Stefan’s property. I had no idea it was that close. Why hadn’t Stefan mentioned it?
Much like his, it was set off the road with a large house at the top of a hill, surrounded by vineyards in full bloom, the vines thick with lush green leaves. Dark purple-blue grapes grew in abundance. That was so opposite the blackened vines surrounding Stefan’s house it was startling.
“We’re here, Sir,” the driver said.
“Thank you.” I reached to open the door, but my grandfather put a hand on my knee to stop me.
“We’ll be right out.”
“Sir.” The driver nodded and left us alone.
“About what you said the other day. I don’t hate you,” Grandfather said. “And I may have blamed you for your mother’s… choices… but I realize that’s not quite right. I am trying, Veronica.”
I looked at him, his lined gray eyes showing his age. I bit the inside of my mouth and nodded. Too many questions to ask, but this moment, I felt like it was truth. His truth, at least.
But then, I thought about the amendment to the contract. Had Stefan lied about that? Had my grandfather ever asked for the marriage to be consummated? I should have asked, but I couldn’t. Instead, I managed a thank-you.
We opened the doors and climbed out. I had Charlie on a leash, and I kept him on it as we walked up the hill toward the house. “It’s bigger than I realized it would be.”
“About four-hundred acres. And I’ve put a bid in on a nearby property.”
“A bid? We’re buying more?”
“You will lose half in three years, Veronica. I want to make sure you have something left once this marriage is dissolved and Armando feels as if he’s gotten his just desserts.”
I felt the hostility in his voice as if it were a physical thing.
“But how will you keep it from him?”
“It will be in your name. Not Kingston Winery. My agreement with Armando is Kingston Winery shares. Not Veronica Kingston’s private property.”
I’d never have thought of that. Clever, I supposed. And maybe I was naive, like Stefan liked to say, but I was glad I didn’t think of how I could manipulate things to my advantage.
But there was one question. “How will you buy it? With what money? If it’s not Kingston-”
He gave me a smile and turned to head into the house. “Don’t worry about that. You just keep that little bit of news to yourself.”
I followed him inside, appreciating the coolness of the place compared to the heat outside. Although mornings were nice and the air was relatively dry in the region, the afternoon sun could be stifling.
I found myself in the entryway of what once must have been a grand house. Opposite the beauty of Stefan’s house, this was, as I’d told him, used more like a factory than anything else. Gutted and dirty, it stored machinery and had long counters of work space where employees did their jobs as we walked around, surveying it all.
“When your mother was younger, we used to come during the harvest. The bedrooms upstairs are still intact. If you’d like to see them-”
“Yes!” I was so excited, I cut him off. I cleared my throat. “Please.”
A man approached us with a pleasant, but urgent smile. My grandfather introduced him as the manager. After shaking my hand, the man mentioned something to my grandfather, and Grandfather turned to me.
“If you don’t mind, you’ll have to go on your own. I have to take care of something.”
“No, that’s fine. Thanks.”
Even better. I couldn’t believe my luck.
“The last room was your mother’s.”
Leaving them behind, I went up the stairs with Charlie at my side. There were only three bedrooms here. The first was very small, fitting only one single bed and a nightstand inside. There was no mattress on the bed, only the frame, and the walls were bare. The few steps I took inside left my prints in the layer of dust on the floor.
The second bedroom was twice as large. A king-size bed stood against the far wall. This one had its mattress intact, but it was covered over with a dust cloth. A nightstand on either side held lamps without lightbulbs. A dresser stood against one wall. I tried the drawers but found them empty.
On my way to the final bedroom, I passed a bathroom. It looked like it hadn’t been updated for some time. As I neared my mother’s room, my stomach fluttered with butterflies. I wondered when she’d been here last, how old she’d been.
I reached it, laid my hand on the doorknob, and took a deep breath. I needed to be prepared for nothing. The other bedrooms had no personal touches. Anyone could have lived in those rooms. My mother’s might be just as disappointing.
I opened the door and stepped inside, then, after a moment, closed it behind me.
Dust covered the floor here too, and I must have been the first person up here in a long time. The room was slightly smaller than the last, and a double bed was pushed against one corner with a window on each wall. I lifted the dustcover to find the mattress and pillow beneath. My mother had once slept on this bed.
I looked around at the bare walls. Nails had left holes in them. A vanity stood against the wall nearest the bed. I ran my finger through the dusty surface then pulled the drawer open. I smiled.
Inside, I found an old tube of half-used lipstick in an awful hot pink and a small sample of perfume. I sprayed a little and inhaled and was immediately taken back.
A tidal wave of emotion passed through me.
I didn’t have many memories of my parents. I barely remembered what they looked like anymore and had to look at photos of them often. Their voices too I couldn’t remember. I hated that. We had a few videos of birthday parties, but most of the footage was of Robyn or I. Either my mom or dad were always behind the camera, and although you could hear them, they weren’t in the videos. The perfume though, that scent. It was my mother’s. I’d forgotten that too.