“The wine was just enough for me, thank you,” she said. “I’m not used to a lot of alcohol.”
Adriano smiled. “But you are the daughter of an amante del vino, no?”
“Yes, but believe me, my father was a very moderate drinker, in spite of the fact that he loved wine. He drank little but he enjoyed it very much.” Sofia looked down at her hands, feeling emotional again. She felt Adriano’s hand on her arm and looked up.
“We should talk about Vignaverde,” he said, his face serious. He cleared his throat. “I do not want to make you feel worried but I must tell you. Some members of the family are a little … shall we say … upset about the situation. You know Italian families are very close … how do you say … knitted together?”
“You mean close-knit?” Sofia interjected.
“Si, yes, and some of the people are not happy that somebody from abroad now owns part of their property.”
Chapter 7
Sofia stared at Adriano. “But … my father was a foreigner, too. Did they resent him?”
“I think they had no choice but to accept him. They needed the money.” Adriano shrugged. “When I talked with them about your papa’s trust, they had hoped that after his death his two fields would go to his Italian daughter, to Julietta, and therefore back to the family. You know there are two parts to your property. You inherited your father’s house and his vineyards. They don’t seem to care about the house but they would have liked the vineyards back.”
“Oh, gee, I didn’t know there would be problems,” Sofia said. She felt her heart sink.
“Do not worry,” Adriano continued. “They have no legal rights. The trust is very clear and it is in accordance with Italian law. Besides, they have other vineyards and Julietta will inherit part of those. And your papa was a very generous man. He saved the estate. He gave money to the family when they had financial problems. He also provided very well for your sister. Part of the profit from your papa’s vineyards, from the grapes and the wine went into an account for her. She will get the money when she is eighteen. Now, the property is yours and you can decide what to do with it.”
“Oh, I would love to continue to give some of the profit to my sister. That should stay the same.”
“Bene, that is kind of you.”
Sofia sighed. “I just hope they don’t see me as the enemy. Which members are unhappy about the inheritance? Julietta’s mother? Her name is Luisa, right?”
Adriano nodded then waved his hand in his typical dismissive gesture. “I am not sure how signora Santucci feels about it. She does not seem to have an opinion. She defers to her brother Edoardo. He and his father, Silvio Santucci, are the ones who seem to be unhappy about the situation.”
“Why?”
Another shrug. “It is a complicated family story. See Edoardo and Luisa are half-siblings. They have the same mother but a different father. Luisa’s father died and her mother married il dottore Santucci. Edoardo is Luisa’s younger brother and the old Santucci’s son. Unfortunately, the dottore is quite greedy and he did not like the fact that your father had acquired part of the estate. But he could not do anything about it. He no longer owned it. He had gifted the property to Luisa and Edoardo in equal shares. He must have regretted it later.”
“Why? What’s wrong with giving it to his children?” Sofia asked.
“See, this happened before signora Santucci became involved with your father and before your father bought part of the property. When dottore Santucci found out, he was quite upset. He is a real hardcore, old Italian. He believes that only Italians can produce good wine and the land belongs to the family and not to outsiders. I think, too, that he has mental problems.” Adriano finished his espresso.
“There is also a son from Luisa Santucci’s former marriage, a Guido Berlusconi. He is a very unsavory character. He had an interest in the two fields that belonged to your papa. He called me once and was very rude. But I told him he had absolutely no right in the property.”
Sofia sighed. “Oh, wonderful. This looks like it’s going to be a family soap opera.”
“Soap opera? What is this? Oh, you mean a telenovela?”
“Yes.”
“Do not worry about it. Your property is safe.”
“It’s not so much the property I’m worried about, but if the people hate me, it will be very unpleasant. You mentioned Edoardo, Luisa’s brother. What kind of a person is he?”
“Edoardo is … how shall I say it? … a little weak. I mean his character. He is not a bad person but I think he is still afraid of upsetting his father.” Adriano waved his hand. “This is just my opinion and I may be wrong.”
Sofia sighed. “I wonder how Luisa feels about me.”
“It is difficult to say. Perhaps she feels a little guilty. She was your papa’s mistress.”
Sofia laughed. “Mistress? That sounds so old-fashioned.”
“What would you call it?” Adriano asked.
“Well, girlfriend, maybe?”
Adriano raised an eyebrow. “It was just a temporary affair, from what Giovanni told me.”
“Yes, but my father sure felt guilty about it. I guess that’s why he never told anyone.”
“But it was just an affair, no?”
Sofia looked at Adriano surprised. “Well, perhaps Italian men think differently about having affairs when they are married. But I think my father was quite puritanical about it.”
“Perhaps you are right. In Italy, it is not such a big deal.”
“But that isn’t very nice for the women, the wives, I mean?” Sofia couldn’t help but wonder how Adriano felt about this. He looked like a happily married man. Had she misjudged him?
He seemed to have guessed her thoughts. “No, it is not nice for the wives. And it is not good for the family. I do not believe in having affairs.” He shrugged. “But it happens, no?”
“I guess so.” Sofia took a deep breath. “I’m already more than nervous about meeting Julietta and the family. This news doesn’t make it any easier.”
Adriano put his hand on hers again. “I am so sorry. I did not want to worry you. I just wanted you to know the situation. And you do not have to worry about Julietta. She likes you. She is looking forward to meeting you.”
“You know her? How is she?” Sofia asked eagerly.
“I met her a few times when I was there with your papa. She is a teenager, you know. Strong opinions. A little rebellious. But a nice young girl.” He smiled. “She reminds me of my own daughter.”
“I hope we’ll get along,” Sofia said quietly.
“I am sure you will be very good friends. She asked me a lot of questions about you. Unfortunately, I could not tell her much, since I did not know you. But she looks forward to meeting you. And she wants to go to California, to Hollywood.” Adriano raised his eyebrow and laughed. “The dream of all young girls, no?”
Sofia nodded. “I guess so.” Then after a short pause. “You know, Adriano, the property isn’t the most important thing. I mean, I’d love to own a vineyard in Tuscany, but having a family or friends is more important to me. So, if they insist on having the grape fields back, I may consider letting them have them. I would be happy just to own the house and perhaps help with the harvest and the winemaking and all that.”
“Bene,” Adriano said, then measured her with a stern expression. “This is of course your decision. But, please, do not tell them anything or do anything without consulting with me first. Do not sign anything.” He was all lawyer now. “I cannot represent you if you make deals without telling me. You do not know the laws here and you may regret it later.”
Sofia hurried to appease Adriano. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t do anything behind your back. Of course, I’ll talk to you first.” Although she felt a little miffed that he treated her like an uncooperative child, she could understand his concerns. As John had told her, Adriano was getting paid out of her father’s trust for representing her and he seemed to feel responsible for her actions and h
er well-being in Italy. She liked the fatherly feelings he expressed toward her. It felt good and alleviated the pain of losing her own father and soothed her anxiety a little bit.
“I would also like you to continue taking care of the finances like you did for my father,” Sofia continued. “I won’t be here all the time and I would like to know that someone represents my interests here. Would you do this?”
Adriano nodded. “If you wish, certainly. I thank you for your trust in me. We can talk about the details later.”
“Well, my father trusted you and John trusts you.” Sofia hesitated, then went on. “John said you are one of the few lawyers he really trusts.” She left out the fact that he’d said “Italian lawyers,” not wanting to hurt Adriano’s possible national pride.
Adriano laughed. “He must know lawyers very well. He is one himself.” Then more seriously: “I will always keep your interests at heart.”
In the meantime, it had gotten late and Sofia, who was still suffering from jet lag, was getting tired. She tried unsuccessfully to suppress a yawn. Adriano, seeming to notice she was fading, waved over the waiter and asked for the check.
“Thank you, again, for the wonderful dinner,” Sofia said.
He gave a quick smile. “I shall take you back to your hotel, so you can rest. If it is okay with you, I would like to leave early tomorrow, right after rush hour. Perhaps at nine o’clock?”
“That’s fine,” Sofia said. “How far is it to Vignaverde?”
“If traffic is not bad, approximately one hour or a little more,” Adriano said.
“I also have to look into renting a car there, so I can get around.”
Adriano hesitated. “I do not think there is a rental agency in Vignaverde but there should be one nearby. We will find out. Do not worry.”
Before going to bed, Sofia called Emma to let her know how she was doing. They chatted for a while. The weather in California had gotten quite hot and Emma had been busy watering the lawn and the plants at Sofia’s home.
“And guess what?” Emma said. “My friend Bertha up north just told me that your ex is no longer working for his parents’ estate. He went back to school to study law or finance, something in that area.”
After hanging up, Sofia thought about this interesting piece of news. She wasn’t that surprised. She always felt that James had mainly worked at the vineyard because his father expected it, but his heart hadn’t been in it. He wasn’t the right person for this business. All the other grape growers or winemakers Sofia had met shared common traits: they were passionate about winemaking; they were supportive of each other, even if they were competitors. They shared rather than hid their knowledge. James lacked those qualities. He was too competitive and too much into himself.
In spite of being tired, Sofia didn’t sleep well that night. Her talk with Adriano about the attitude of the family toward her intensified her worries. She woke up in the middle of the night, hearing voices outside. She’d left the windows open to get some of the evening breeze after the sweltering heat of the day. In the courtyard downstairs, a few young people were laughing and talking. It smelled of cigarette smoke. After a while, someone upstairs hissed “silenzio.” More giggling, then a clanking sound, as if someone was kicking a steel bucket around, and finally it got quiet again. Sofia went back to bed but couldn’t fall asleep for quite a while.
Chapter 8
Sofia woke up with a headache the following morning. She groaned as she got out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. After a quick shower, she ate a leftover roll from the day before and downed an aspirin. The sun was just above the horizon and the sky was clear except for a few purple clouds to the east. It would be a pleasant day. After packing her suitcase and bag for the drive to Vignaverde, she decided she needed a slightly more substantial breakfast to prepare her for the adventure of the day—meeting her famiglia and the padrino Santucci, as she called Edoardo and his father after the character depiction she had received from Adriano.
Since the hotel breakfast room wasn’t ready yet, Sofia walked to the cafeteria at the corner where she ordered a cappuccino and a few rolls. The fragrance and taste of the coffee and the lightly sweet, crunchy bread put a smile on her face. The aspirin seemed to be doing its job and her head felt clear again. Outside, a golden glow enveloped the dome of the main cathedral. It was impossible not to be content in this beautiful city.
Back at the hotel, she paid her bill and waited at the entrance for Adriano so he wouldn’t have to find parking. A few minutes later, his silver Lancia came driving through the narrow street. He stopped, got out, and gave her a bright smile. “Buongiorno, Sofia, how are you?”
“Nervous,” she said. “I didn’t sleep well last night. Otherwise I’m fine.”
He grabbed her suitcase and put it in the trunk. “Nervous about meeting your sister?”
“Yes, that, and the rest of the family.”
“I understand,” he continued as they sat in the car. “Meeting your sister will be very emotional,” he stated. “But also very happy.”
“I hope so, yes,” Sofia said with a sigh.
He started the car and drove it slowly through the narrow streets to the wider road leading out of Florence. “Have you had breakfast?”
“Yes, thank you. What about you?” Sofia asked.
He shrugged. “Just some coffee.”
“We can stop on the way,” Sofia suggested. “If you’re hungry.”
“This will not be necessary. It is not a very long drive. And we will be having lunch with the family,” Adriano said.
“Oh?” Sofia looked at him. “How do you know?”
Another shrug. “This is the way it is done here. They know we are coming.”
Sofia had to smile at Adriano’s logic, but he was probably right. This was Italy after all, a country known for its hospitality.
“We shall take our time, so you can enjoy the countryside,” Adriano said.
“That would be great.” Sofia didn’t mind having a little extra time before meeting the people she would be staying with. At the thought of these complete strangers, she felt a tightening in her chest.
As they left the city of Florence and headed south, Sofia gazed at the charming countryside, the meadows, and the rolling hills. They passed occasional ocher-colored stone farmhouses and a few lonely cows and horses. The clouds sailing across the sky tossed large patches of shadows on the fields, darkening the landscape for a few seconds and giving it an almost menacing feeling. As soon as the clouds had passed, the sun bathed the brown and deep green fields in a friendly golden glow.
Sofia took a deep breath and pulled her camera out of her purse.
Adriano glanced at her. “Would you like to take pictures? We can stop somewhere.”
“Yes, please,” Sofia said.
They drove on for a while, then turned off the main road and drove up the hill to a small town that looked like a fortress with walls surrounding it. Adriano parked the car outside the city walls of San Donato.
“It is a hill town like Siena but not so full of tourists,” Adriano said as they got out of the car. “But it is very pretty and you can take photos.”
It was a lovely town with the typical features of the Tuscan hill towns Sofia remembered from her former trip to Siena. They took a stroll through the narrow streets, admiring the village square, the central piazza surrounded by old Tuscan buildings with natural stonewalls, a beautiful old palazzo that was now a hotel. Everywhere blooming purple vines drooped from the walls and arches. From the old Etruscan defensive walls surrounding the town, they had a wide view of meadows full of rust-colored and purple plants, and of small paths winding around olive groves and past vineyards.
“Doesn’t this look a little like Vignaverde?” Sofia asked, as they were sitting in front of a small bar, drinking coffee.
“Yes, a little. All of the hill towns here in the Toscana share similarities. Vignaverde does not have that many tourists either.” Adriano downed his espre
sso in one gulp. “Shall we go?”
They drove back to the main road and continued. The rest of the way to Vignaverde presented the same picture. Meadows with sunflowers in full bloom took turns with other wild flowers, the ever-present olive groves, and the fields with their symmetrical rows of vines.
They came to a crossroad and circled a roundabout, then continued. “We shall be in Vignaverde in half an hour,” Adriano said and Sofia’s heart began to beat faster.
Soon they had the first view of the city. Vignaverde, like many of the hill towns in Tuscany, was surrounded by Etruscan walls. An impressive-looking fortress greeted them from above a wooded hill of stone pines. Adriano parked the car at the entrance of the town. “The estate is nearby, but I want to inquire about car rentals here. There is a tourist office at the central plaza. We can ask there.”
They got out of the car and walked through the arched stone gate into the town. Vignaverde was another one of the vibrant Tuscan cities of about five to six thousand inhabitants who lived in the town itself as Adriano mentioned. But unlike Siena, it was pleasantly quiet and devoid of tourist mobs. Sofia inhaled the slightly musty scent in the narrow streets leading to the center of town. They entered the Piazza San Francesco, the central religious square. It was surrounded by impressive-looking medieval buildings. Vignaverde was founded back in Roman times.
Adriano motioned at the chapel in the square. On its facade, they could see a sculpture of a human skull with two wings, one on each side. “This is the symbol of the human soul,” he said. “Bones are what is left of us when we die. The wings symbolize the soul, that which survives.” He turned around and pointed at the different buildings. “In fact, you can see the cycle of Christian life here. There is the baptistery, which means birth, then the cathedral, which signifies life. And here was the hospital where we end up, and finally the cemetery, death. The hospital and the cemetery were moved outside of the city walls in modern times. These buildings are more or less in every central square in Tuscan towns.”
The Italian Sister (The Wine Lover's Daughter, Book 1) Page 4
