by J. Sterling
It was almost like they were old friends.
If old friends threatened each other on a daily basis and forbade their children from being friends.
“What’s going on?” she whispered to me. “Why aren’t they at each other’s throats?”
“You’ll see.” I kissed the side of her head in front of everyone because I wanted them all, Julia included, to know how serious I was about her and about us.
“Julia, sit,” her dad instructed, but his tone was softer than I’d ever heard before.
She looked around the table before reluctantly sitting down at the chair I’d pulled out for her. I moved to sit right next to her and reached for her hand under the table.
Her mom leaned toward her and whispered loud enough for me to hear, “I didn’t know he kicked you out, honey. I had no idea until I heard it from James.”
“Heard it from James?” Julia looked at me before shaking her head like she had no idea what on earth could have transpired in the last twenty-four hours to shake up our entire world. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Russo. It’s, uh,” she stumbled, “nice to see you in our home, I think.”
My parents laughed and greeted her back before sipping more of her latest award-winning wine.
“This is really good, sweetheart. You’re very talented.” My mom complimented her latest creation.
“Thank you so much. So, what is everyone doing here?” she asked, still nervous and completely unsettled.
“We were waiting for you,” her mom answered with a smile before pouring her and me a glass of wine.
“Why me? What for?” Julia nervously looked around. “Oh my God, is this an intervention or something? Are you sending me away?”
The table erupted with laughter.
“We were waiting for you, so we could all hear the story at the same time,” her dad announced over the chaos.
“What story?”
I looked her in the eyes before responding, “About our great-grandfathers and this stupid bet.”
Her eyes grew wide, and I watched her swallow hard. “Oh. I’ve always wanted to hear this.” She sat up straighter, her attention solely focused on me.
“We ready?” I asked, mostly waiting for the okay from Julia’s dad to start.
He took a large gulp of my second-place wine and nodded, giving me the go-ahead.
I wasn’t sure where to start, so I started from the beginning. “Okay. Well, as you might or might not know, our great-grandfathers really liked to gamble with each other and the other townsfolk. Aside from getting into trouble at the local bar, there wasn’t much else to do back then, so that’s what they tended to do. Our great-grandfathers had been best friends since childhood, you know?”
There was a mixture of grumbling at the table, and I realized that Mr. La Bella didn’t even know this part, so I continued, “They immigrated here together from Italy. Their dream was to buy land next to each other in America and start wineries like the ones they’d had in Italy. They were ecstatic when they found this area and were able to make their dreams come true. They never thought they’d stop being friends.” I looked around the table. “Did you know that part?”
“I didn’t,” Mr. La Bella answered in a seemingly shocked tone that surprised me.
“How could your family leave out all the important details?” my dad asked.
“I have no idea. And I never questioned it because I was perfectly fine with hating you for the reasons I had been given,” was all he said in response.
I continued the story, “Okay, so they were best friends, but like any good rivalry between men, there was a woman.” I raised my eyebrows, and Julia offered me a sad sort of smile. “I guess they both fell in love with the same girl. My great-grandmother.”
Julia interrupted, “So, your great-grandfather got the girl, and that’s why our families hate each other?”
I shook my head. “You’d have the answer if you let me finish telling the story.”
“My bad,” she said with a little extra snark and a little less apology.
She wasn’t sorry at all, but I’d punish her for that later. When no one else was around.
“So, yes, my great-grandfather got the girl, and, yes, your great-grandfather was bitter about it. He apparently stayed single for a long time, living next door to his best friend and the girl he thought should have been his. One night, during one of their poker games, my great-grandfather was complaining about the land on the south side.”
Everyone seemed to subconsciously lean in a little closer to me, and I knew I had their full attention. It was as if they sensed what had started the whole rivalry in the first place was about to be revealed.
“The land on the south side—as you well know, seeing as how it’s your land now—is a little bit of a pain in the ass. The way the land slopes and curves, not to mention that steep drop-off down the side, well, my great-grandfather had a hard time figuring out how to effectively manage it. He was really struggling with it.”
“I can’t imagine trying to maintain it back then without all the innovation we have now,” Julia said, her eyes wide as she sipped her own glass of wine.
“Anyway, he was complaining about it, and your great-grandfather said he’d take it off his hands. I think he was joking, but things quickly turned serious. They were always betting—one or the other losing money one night and getting it back the next. My great-grandfather put that particular plot of land on the table after one too many drinks.”
Julia’s jaw dropped open, and I knew that she could tell what was coming next, but I said it anyway, “He lost the land, and that night, when he told my great-grandmother what he’d done, she insisted he march right back over and get it back. But your great-grandfather said that a wager was a wager, and he had won it fair and square.”
“He’s not wrong,” Mr. La Bella said with a shrug, and all eyes fell to him. “I’m just saying, if you bet and lose, you don’t get to take it back. That’s not the way betting works. If you’re going to be a man and bet manly things, you have to be willing to part with them.”
“Son, please continue,” my dad instructed.
“In the weeks that followed, my great-grandfather kept trying to get yours to bet the land again, so he could have a shot at winning it back, but yours refused to play for it. Apparently, he’d already gone to the courthouse to put the new land markings in writing, so the land was legally his, pending the new deed. My great-grandfather eventually backed down, but their relationship was never the same after that. I think it could have been repaired at some point, if it wasn’t for the fact that—” I started to explain when Julia interrupted me.
“Wait. The south side vines were originally yours?” She sounded so surprised and a little sad, like I’d just ripped a dream from her grasp or changed it somehow.
“They were. But no one knew what those vines would produce at the time.”
“So, if they didn’t know, then why did your great-grandfather want it back so bad? Why was he that pissed to lose it?”
“I think because my great-grandmother asked him to. She was really disappointed and angry with him when she found out what he’d done. It was like she knew that it would cause a further rift between them, and she had felt guilty enough as it was for coming between their lifelong friendship. She always warned my great-grandfather not to gamble cars, homes, or land. She insisted that they were too personal and that people got too angry and couldn’t forgive that kind of loss.”
Julia nodded, and then I dealt the final blow, “Once the south side vines started producing its one-of-a-kind grapes, that soured what little had been left between them to nothing.”
“Is that the end?” Julia asked.
I looked around the table, nodding before finishing off my own glass of wine.
“What about the parts that I was told, growing up? You didn’t even mention those,” Mr. La Bella asked, his brow furrowed as if he wasn’t sure which direction was up anymore.
My dad took over, an
d I was grateful. “After the bet, like James mentioned, my grandfather kept trying to get the land back. He did more than just try to play for it again in poker. He asked your grandfather to split it in half. Then, he offered to buy it back for double what it was worth and then triple, but your grandfather kept saying no. I think it was in part just to torture him. I’m sure your grandfather couldn’t have cared less about the vines, especially since he didn’t even know what they would come to produce at that point.”
Mr. La Bella sat there, taking it all in, his head shaking back and forth in disbelief. I squeezed Julia’s hand under the table, and she squeezed it back. The gesture made me smile as my dad wrapped the rest of the story up.
“My grandfather’s insistence on there being some way to get the land back only fueled your grandfather’s stubbornness to keep it. To be honest, I think he liked having something over my great-grandfather, especially since he felt like my great-grandfather had something over him,” he said, referring to my great-grandmother. “But, once the land started producing grapes that didn’t taste like any other in the county, all hell broke loose. My great-grandfather went to the courts and tried to fight to get the land deed overturned, but they refused, saying too much time had passed. He told anyone who would listen that your grandfather had stolen the land from him and was crooked. He even called the police, but nothing worked. The bitterness grew between our families because Great-grandfather Russo refused to let it go, and Great-grandfather La Bella didn’t take kindly to being called a thief and a liar.”
“That’s the only part of the story I’ve ever known.” Mr. La Bella slowly shook his head, as if still in disbelief. “You’re sure it’s accurate? You’re not just selling me some bullshit right now?”
“To what end?” my dad questioned. “No, really? We’re not asking for the land back, so why would we lie to you?”
“It sounds plausible though, don’t you think, dear?” Julia’s mom asked her husband, and it didn’t escape me that he failed to respond.
“I will say this just for the record,” my mom piped up, her tone serious. “I’ve heard this story at least a hundred times since I met my husband. And it’s never changed once. Not a single detail. And I heard it from both his grandfather before he passed and his father.” She looked at my dad with a soft smile. “I just think that if it was a lie, something in the story would have changed by now.”
“I agree with that,” Julia added. “Can I ask something?”
We all focused our attention on her and waited.
“Can we stop hating each other now? Can we be done with it? I really want to be done with it,” she pleaded, as if somehow the story had just made things worse between our families instead of making them better.
A hearty laugh escaped my throat. “I’ve been done with it.”
I looked deep into her hazel eyes and leaned forward, my lips pressing against hers, present company be damned. She tried to pull away, but my hand was on her neck, holding her tight.
Her dad cleared his throat, and only then did I break the kiss, still a little scared of him, to be honest.
“I want to make a toast.” He reached for his empty wine glass and held it into the air before his wife pulled his arm down.
“Let’s fill our glasses first,” she suggested with a smile and a bottle of wine in hand.
Mrs. La Bella went to work, filling all six of our glasses. Each member of the Russo family got Julia’s latest creation, and each member of the La Bella family got mine.
Once our glasses were filled, we held them in the air between us. The scene was something I’d never thought I’d witness in my lifetime, but I had always hoped for it. There was peace between the Russo and La Bella families. And I was determined to make it last.
OVERDUE APOLOGIES
Julia
My dad cleared his throat once more, and I held my breath in anticipation, my wine glass in front of me with all the others. What if he didn’t believe the story and wanted to continue this pointless feud? My dad had never really been the forgiving type.
“First of all, I want to thank you for sharing that story. I’ve never heard it before, and I feel like an idiot for only learning about it now, after all this time. I’ve been so angry for so long.”
My dad actually sounded vulnerable, and I realized that I’d never seen him that way in my entire life. He’d always been my dad, this mountain of a man who rarely showed any emotion and was tough as nails. He seemed like anything but in this moment. It was humbling and unnerving to see a parent’s human side.
“I want to apologize to both my daughter and your son.” He winced a little before continuing, and I knew swallowing his pride wasn’t something that came naturally to him. “I knew you had feelings for her. I’ve always known. And I knew she had feelings for you back,” he confessed.
I felt my cheeks heat with embarrassment. It was true, but being put on the spot like that in front of everyone was more than a little uncomfortable. The night was already overwhelming enough without adding this to the mix.
“That is why I behaved the way I did when it came to the two of you. It never occurred to me that I didn’t know what had really happened between our two families. I always assumed I knew enough.”
I moved to say something, but my dad stopped me, his gray eyes meeting mine. “Let me finish, Julia, please, or I’ll never get it out.”
I couldn’t argue with that logic, so I stayed quiet and let him continue, “I’m not going to be perfect because hating you is as ingrained in my blood as this wine we’re drinking.” Everyone laughed a little in response. “I was raised to do it my whole life. But James was right earlier when he said it was time to stop, so I promise to do my best.”
The part about James piqued my interest, and I wondered exactly what he meant. I’d make sure to ask him about it later.
“So, I’d like to make a toast. To new beginnings. To burying the old hatchet we should have never been asked to carry in the first place. And to our kids. Who are either going to burn our respective wineries to the ground or make them better than we ever could.”
I frowned a little until everyone shouted, “Cheers!” in unison, and our six wine glasses clanked against one another.
I forcefully squeezed James’s hand, and when he squeezed back so hard in return that it actually hurt, I was thankful for the pain. It meant that I was awake, and this crazy scene playing out in front of me was real and not a dream.
Molecules must have exploded all around us, breaking into a billion unseen pieces, leaving nothing but light in their wake as the decades-old hatred died on the spot. It was the only explanation for the way the air had instantly changed. I sucked in a long, deep breath, questioning if I’d ever breathed so easily in my entire life.
“I feel different,” I said in a whisper, but everyone heard me, so it must have been louder than I’d realized.
“In a good way?” James asked, his eyes solely focused on mine.
I nodded. “Lighter. Looser. Freer?” I said it like a question, wondering if it was only me who was reacting this way to our newly found truce.
James smiled, a devilish grin that made me want to press my mouth against his, but I refrained. “I feel the same way. I feel relieved, and I never knew that I hadn’t. Does that make any sense?”
“Completely,” I reassured him, realizing that I didn’t want him to feel alone or isolated in his feelings. How he felt mattered to me.
“It’s a wonder the vines produced any grapes at all, what with all that negative energy we carried around.” It was James’s mom who said it, and the sentiment hit me square in the chest with all its rightness.
“Maybe, now, they’ll be even better,” I said with a smile as a world of possibilities felt like it had just opened up and was shining down on me.
Now that James and I were allowed to be together, I couldn’t stop thinking about all the things we could do and try. I knew I was getting ahead of myself, but I didn’t care. I’d
work out the details later. Maybe while James was inside me.
He wouldn’t be able to argue then, I thought to myself as a giggle escaped.
“What are you laughing at?” James asked and I felt my cheeks heat.
I knew I was blushing. “Nothing. Tell you later,” I lied because I had absolutely no intention on telling James my dirty little secret.
James’s mom yawned, which forced me to follow suit, and before I knew it, every one of us was doing it, our hands placed over our mouths as we giggled, and my ears popped.
“I think we should call it a night. I don’t know about the rest of you, but forgiving you all is hard work. I’m exhausted,” my dad said with a genuine smile as he made his way over toward Mr. Russo, and they shook hands.
It was the first time I’d ever seen them do that.
I smiled to myself. Tonight had been filled with so many firsts; it felt like a rebirth of sorts. It represented the beginning of everything to come and I was simultaneously excited and beat. Going through that kind of emotional upheaval, even when it was the best kind, wore you out. I felt like I could hit my mattress and sleep for a week.
“Do you want me to take you to get your car and your things from Jeanine’s?” James asked, one hand in his pocket.
I looked around at my parents, who were both intently watching us, before I opted out. “Not tonight, but thank you. I want to talk to my parents a little more.”
“Okay. What a night, right?” James said before giving me a soft kiss on the cheek. “Text me later?”
“I don’t have your number,” I teased, but it made him skip a step as soon as he started to walk out. He looked back at me, and I said, “Kidding.”
“Text me, or I’ll punish you later,” he whispered into my ear.
I swatted him away, my eyes narrowing with all the words I wanted to say but couldn’t. At least, not in front of my parents.
“Good night, Mr. and Mrs. La Bella,” he bellowed from the front door as he disappeared behind his parents.
“Night, James,” they said in response, my father’s voice less enthusiastic than my mom’s.
