The Italian Sister (The Wine Lover's Daughter, Book 1)

by Christa Polkinhorn

  Julietta wiped a tear from her cheek. “I do not know why Papa never told you. Perhaps he was ashamed of me.”

  “Oh, no, I don’t think so. He was ashamed about getting involved with your mother when my mother was still alive. And then, he didn’t have the courage to tell me. He loved you.” Sofia now regretted her feelings of resentment toward Julietta. She seemed to suffer as much under the situation as Sofia did.

  “He said he would tell you about me and bring you here next time he was visiting. But then he died,” Julietta said in a low sad voice.

  “I know. I wish so much he was still here with us,” Sofia said. She took a deep breath. “Anyway, let’s not talk about the vineyards anymore. I don’t want them to drive a wedge between us. I’m really happy to have you as my sister.”

  Julietta shrugged. She didn’t seem to believe her.

  “I really do,” Sofia said. She gently touched Julietta’s arm. Julietta flinched a little but didn’t pull away.

  They sat quietly for a while. Sofia poured them both another glass of lemonade. “It’s so beautiful here,” Sofia said.

  Julietta gave a quick smile. “Yes.” She took a deep breath. “Perhaps I can visit California once. I always wanted to see where Papa was from.”

  “That would be wonderful,” Sofia said. “I’d love to have you.” She turned to Julietta. “You said you didn’t want any vineyards. Wouldn’t you like to work together with your mother and your uncle once you’re through with school?”

  Julietta shook her head, then shrugged. “I am not sure. Perhaps I want to do something else.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  Another shrug. “I don’t know yet.”

  Sofia nodded. A cautious truce had been established again and Sofia didn’t want to endanger it by asking too many questions.

  Chapter 17

  It was time to pick the white grapes for the Pinot Grigio. The Sangiovese grapes for the red wine would take another few weeks to fully ripen. Sofia, Julietta, Luisa, Edoardo and all the helpers and volunteers were busy all day long, picking grapes, putting them into plastic crates along the rows of vines. The workers carried the full crates to the flatbed trucks, where other volunteers stacked them on top of one another in such a way that the grapes in the crates underneath didn’t get smashed. This prevented them from splitting and collecting unwanted yeasts and molds before they were crushed at the winery. The seasoned workers were doing the picking and eliminating of the spoiled or unsuitable grapes and the younger and agile ones were walking back and forth, carrying the full crates to the truck. It was an extremely busy time, since all the picked grapes of a field had to be crushed the same day.

  After a day of hard work, Julietta and Sofia relaxed with glasses of lemonade on the patio, watching the sun set behind the hills. Sofia noticed that Julietta had been unusually quiet the whole day. Sofia wondered if her sister was still upset about the talk they had about the inheritance and the situation with their father.

  “Is everything all right? You seem kind of gloomy today?” To Sofia’s dismay, Julietta burst into tears.

  “What’s the matter?” Sofia put her arm around her sister.

  “My birthday is soon and … Papa isn’t here to celebrate with me,” she sobbed. She got up and went inside, then came out again with a box of Kleenex.

  At the mention of her father, Sofia was overcome by sadness. She’d brought her sister some gifts from California, a couple of T-shirts, one with the logo of Hollywood on it. She found out that Julietta had a birthday in September and had decided to give her the presents then. She’d also packed two necklaces her father had given her. She could give them to Julietta for her birthday, as a gift from her father.

  “It is the first birthday he is not here with me,” Julietta said sadly. She pulled a tissue out of the box and wiped her face.

  Sofia remembered that for the past years, Henry had always been in Tuscany during fall. She thought it was for business reasons and now she realized that the real purpose had been to see his daughter and to be present on her birthday and for the harvest of his grapes. She felt ashamed for her feelings of jealousy. After all, she’d had her father during the whole year and not just for a couple of months.

  “You are lucky you lived so close to him,” Julietta echoed Sofia’s feelings. She got up and walked to the end of the patio, then turned back. “You know I was always jealous of you when he left again. Sometimes … sometimes I even hated you. You had him all to yourself.” A sob escaped her. “I’m sorry …” She started to cry again, covering her face with her hands.

  I guess I’m not the only one who is jealous. Sofia got up and hugged her sister. “I’m sorry, too. I wish I had known. We could’ve been together. If only he’d been with both of us more.” She picked up a strand of Julietta’s hair and brushed it behind her ear. “Did Papa do anything special for your birthday?”

  Julietta pulled out another Kleenex from the box and brushed her tears away. “We celebrated with the family, but he always made me a real American chocolate cake with nuts in it and lots of frosting on top, in different colors. And candles of course.”

  “I could make you a chocolate cake. I know it’s not the same as if Papa made it, but at least it’s something to remember him by,” Sofia said.

  Julietta looked at her with hopeful eyes. “You know how to make it?”

  Sofia chuckled. “He made me the same cake when I was younger. It’s the only cake he knew how to make.”

  “Perhaps we can make the cake together,” Julietta suggested. “I know where to get the ingredients. Papa always took me along shopping for them.” She hesitated, then gave a little smile. “It will be fun. The recipe must still be around here somewhere.” They went inside and Julietta browsed through one of the drawers in the kitchen cabinet. She pulled out a sheet of paper and held it up. “Here it is.”

  “Okay, good, we’ll go shopping on Saturday.” Sofia began to feel excited. “Perhaps, we can take a day off from work and go to the beach. A little birthday outing.”

  Julietta nodded. “I will ask Mamma. I am sure she will allow it. Come on.”

  The two walked over to the main house. Julietta found her mother in the living room and overwhelmed her with a flood of Italian. Sofia, who had learned some Italian since she got here a month before, understood the gist of it. Julietta told her mother about their cake-making project and to Sofia’s surprise, Luisa’s serious face broke into a smile. She nodded. “Thank you,” she said, facing Sofia. “This is very kind of you.”

  Chapter 18

  In the evening after working in one of the vineyards, Sofia took a quick shower. A knock at the door made her pause. She’d left the door unlocked, thinking that Julietta would join her. She put on her bathrobe and went to open the door. To her surprise, Nicholas was outside. She was embarrassed that her hair was dripping wet and she wrapped her robe tightly around herself.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, as he gave her a quick look-over. “I didn’t realize … this probably isn’t a good time, but I wondered if, perhaps, you wanted to join me for dinner tonight. There’s a nice place in town I sometimes go to. I’d like to invite you. It would be fun to speak English once again,” he added with a chuckle.

  Sofia hesitated, surprised at the invitation. But an evening out sounded like fun. She’d only been to town a couple of times with Julietta to buy groceries since her arrival at Vignaverde. “Yes, why not? Sounds good. Thank you.”

  “Great.” Nicholas smiled. “Would eight o’clock be okay?”

  “Sure, I’ll be ready.” Sofia saw Julietta walk up to the house. She smiled at Nicholas and the two exchanged a few words in Italian. Juliette watched, as Nicholas walked away.

  “Did he invite you?” she asked Sofia.

  “Yes, he did. How did you know?”

  Julietta shrugged. “I think he likes you.”

  Sofia raised an eyebrow. “He doesn’t know me. We only just met.”

  “Well, I just
noticed. And he invited you.”

  “Yes, but that’s because we’re from the same country.” Sofia smiled. Her sister was at an age where boys and being in love were all-important.”

  “I bet he likes you.” Julietta winked at Sofia.

  “I think you read much more into this,” Sofia said.

  “He is charming,” Julietta said, thoughtfully.

  Sofia studied her. “You seem to like him?”

  “Yes, he is nice, but he is too old for me.” Julietta shrugged. “But he would be perfect for you.”

  “Will you stop?” Sofia shook her head. “This is not my intention at all. In fact, that’s the last thing I need. Getting involved with another winemaker from California. I’ve had enough from the last one.”

  “Oh? Why?”

  “I’ll tell you some other time. I have to get some clothes on and get ready.” Sofia started climbing the stairs.

  “Wear your purple dress. It brings out the color of your eyes. Have fun. See you later.” Julietta laughed.

  Sofia shook her head and chortled. Clothes and boys. It reminded her of her own favorite things as a teen. In front of her closet, she perused her somewhat limited wardrobe. She pulled out the blue-and-purple dress Julietta mentioned, put it back in again, grabbed a blouse to go with her slacks, then hesitated. Going out in the evening was actually the only time she could wear a dress rather than her daily dungarees. She took the dress out again, put it on, dried and brushed her hair until it was silky, and put on some eye shadow and lipstick. She checked her appearance in the mirror, hoping she wasn’t overdressed, shrugged, and grabbed a light jacket. Although it was hot during the day, it tended to cool off in the evenings. Downstairs, she poured herself a glass of water and sat outside on the patio to wait for Nicholas.

  He came to pick her up a little before eight. He was dressed casually in black jeans and a green-and-yellow patterned shirt. Sofia had to admit, he was good-looking with his athletic figure, wavy blond hair, suntanned skin, and dark expressive eyes. California beach boy, except for the eyes, she thought when she greeted him.

  They drove the short way to the village in Nicholas’s rental car, which he’d gotten at the same place in Cecina where Sofia had rented hers. His, however, was a stick shift, which he obviously knew how to drive. Sofia told him about her experience at the rental agency, when she came close to having to learn to drive a stick shift.

  “It’s not really that difficult,” Nicholas said. “I’m used to it because of the farm machines I drive in California.”

  “Where do you work in California?” Sofia asked.

  “Right now, I work on my grandfather’s fields, helping him out, since he’s getting a little too old for doing the work all by himself,” he said. “Eventually, I want to have my own vineyard and winery.”

  “Oh, so you’ll be an independent entrepreneur,” Sofia said.

  “Yes, that’s been my dream all along. Right now, I’m just getting started,” Nicholas said.

  In the meantime, they had arrived at the parking lot outside Vignaverde. Nicholas parked his car and they walked through the gate under the Etruscan arch into town. Nicholas had picked a small family-run trattoria for dinner, which served typical Tuscan food. As was often the case in the Tuscan restaurants, the walls of the dining room were of irregular natural stones and an arched ceiling covered the place. The starched light-pink tablecloths and napkins gave the rustic interior a touch of elegance. A young waiter brought them the menus and told them about the specialties for the evening. After ordering some appetizers, mineral water, and wine, Sofia and Nicholas studied the menu. Aside from the meat and fish, it listed several dishes of pasta.

  “So, what made you come to Vignaverde?” Sofia asked as she put the menu aside and took a sip of mineral water.

  “Well, actually, I guess indirectly your father. That was a few years ago. Another winemaker mentioned your father and the fact that he was doing some business with vintners in Tuscany. I called Mr. Laverne one day and he gave me a couple of addresses, one being Podere Francesco Ginori.”

  Sofia stared at him. “Who was it? Who told you about him?”

  “James Antonini.”

  “What?” Sofia’s heart lurched.

  “What’s wrong?” Nicholas asked. He put down his menu and gave her a puzzled look.

  Sofia leaned her head into her hands, looked up and shook her head. “James Antonini is my ex-husband. I can’t believe he knew about the vineyard. This is all so upsetting. I seemed to be the only one who didn’t know.”

  “James never mentioned that your father owned a vineyard. He just told me he had dealings in Tuscany because he traveled there so often. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Nicholas’s eyes expressed concern.

  Sofia shook her head. “I don’t mean to blame you. It’s just … so much has happened with my father’s death and then I found out about his secret life.”

  “I understand. I didn’t realize James was your husband. We weren’t close. I met him at some wine function and we got to talking. It must have been after your divorce, because now I remember he mentioned Henry Laverne as his former father-in-law.”

  Sofia shrugged. “It’s not your fault that my family history is such a disaster. I’m just stunned that here I am so far away from California and I run into someone who not only knows my ex-husband but who knew my father and the vineyard I knew nothing about. It’s just unnerving.”

  “I really don’t know much about your background. I met your father, yes, and I found out from Julietta that her sister from California was coming to visit. That’s about it. The rest I’m finding out in bits and pieces.”

  “I’m sorry I’m making a big deal out of it. I owe you an explanation about the whole thing,” Sofia said just as the waiter came with two plates of delicious looking pasta, gnocchi for Sofia and a dish of spaghetti al pesto for Nicholas.

  Nicholas smiled at her. “I don’t mean to pry, but, yes, to be honest, now you’ve made me curious about your family history. It sounds like some kind of fiction. But let’s enjoy the meal first. You know, it isn’t good talking about disturbing things while eating. That’s at least what my grandfather always tells me.”

  “You’re right. Let’s eat. This looks delicious.” Sofia took a deep breath. The news about her family had upset her, but after a few bites of the delicious meal and some more wine, her mood improved again.

  After finishing a lovely dessert of ice cream topped with hot chocolate sauce and while drinking a cup of espresso, Sofia wanted to give Nicholas an abbreviated version of her background. But once she began, the story about her troubled childhood with her mother, her father’s love, his untimely death and the story of his life in Tuscany began pouring out of her. Halfway through, she stopped for a moment. Why was she doing this? She barely knew Nicholas but he exuded a kindness and trust that made her talk. I’ll regret this later on, she felt at one point, but couldn’t stop herself. She took a deep breath and looked at him embarrassed.

  “I’m sorry, I hope I’m not boring you.”

  “Boring me? No way, this is a fascinating story.” Then after a pause: “How do you feel about your father now? Are you still angry with him?”

  Sofia shrugged. “It comes and goes. He was such a wonderful father. I really loved him … still do. But I just can’t understand why he kept all this hidden for so long. Then I feel again like I don’t know him at all.”

  Nicholas nodded. “What are you planning to do now? I mean, you now have a vineyard here, two fields of grapes, and a sister. Are you planning to stay?”

  “I don’t know. I want to but I don’t feel completely welcome here. And I guess I might get homesick for California and Emma. But I’ll be here a lot, I think.”

  “You say, you don’t feel completely welcome?” Nicholas waved at the waiter and ordered another espresso for the both of them.

  Sofia hesitated. She didn’t want to tell him about the family’s supposed resentment toward her fo
r inheriting the vineyards. She had already told him more than she had wanted.

  “You know, it’s difficult for both sides. They must feel somewhat weary of me, not knowing me. And I don’t fully trust them either.”

  “Yes, I understand,” Nicholas said. “From what I learned during the past two seasons I was here, the fields that belong to you are some of the prime fields of the estate.” He lifted a shoulder. “Perhaps they were afraid of what you were going to do with them. You could sell them and that would be a real loss for the estate and the family.”

  Sofia glanced at him. She hadn’t even thought of that possibility. “Did anybody say anything to that extent?”

  “Oh, no, it’s just a thought. I mean, if it was me, and I found out that someone I didn’t know would all of a sudden own an important part of my property, I’d be worried, too. Don’t you think so?”

  Sofia nodded. “You’re right. Of course, I have no intention of selling the fields. If at all, I’d sell them to the family or give them back or something.”

  “I think once they know you better and know your intentions, they’ll be much more accepting.”

  “You’re probably right.” Sofia smiled. “Well having a sister like Julietta does make the whole thing worthwhile, I think. And being able to really work in a vineyard again. It’s quite satisfying.”

  “You’re very lucky. Owning part of a beautiful estate in Vignaverde is quite something. I’m jealous,” Nicholas said.

  “I hope you’ll be able to have your own vineyard in California, too,” Sofia said.

  “It will happen, eventually,” Nicholas said. “Then I can import some of your wine. Or we can do it together. Wine from this vineyard would be a great addition.” He emptied his cup of espresso and winked at her.