Page 16 of A Vineyard for Two

‘Why?’ Georgia said. ‘Would you have come if you’d known?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Exactly. Besides, life doesn’t always give us a warning. It throws us in the deep end when we least expect it. The only choice we have is how we react to it,’ Georgia said. ‘I wasn’t going to say anything, but child, it’s been six years. Six years and you haven’t paid a visit. Six years and the only thing we get is a phone call once a month–which, mind you, I appreciate greatly, but your siblings, well, they don’t see it that way. Zoe feels like you’ve abandoned the family, Leo runs this place, and Tyler has his own thoughts that he keeps to himself. You left. It hasn’t always been easy, and some took it harder than others.’

‘Zoe does not care.’

‘Zoe looks up to you. When you left, there was a while that she seemed lost and confused.’

‘I’m sorry, I…’

‘Don’t say sorry when you don’t mean it, Harper. You’re not sorry. You wanted to leave and you’re glad you did because if you hadn’t, you would have probably resented everyone. There is nothing wrong with that. Sometimes we have to do these things for ourselves. But you now have to decide going forth and you have to consider all the consequences, and each decision will have a set of its own. I understand that you can’t do that overnight, but it’s going to have to happen sooner rather than later.’

‘Yes, it will.’ Easy to say, but so much harder to do. Harper knew what she had to do, though; she just wasn’t sure how she was going to do it. There was no other option. She didn’t belong here, not anymore.

‘There’s an envelope in your bedside drawer with a set of keys inside it. Go to Mathers Vineyard, see what’s there. Talk to Brookes. Whatever you decide will involve him.’

Harper nodded. She knew that, which made the decision even harder.

TEN

Mathers Vineyard stretched over several hectares far and wide. The inn itself stood on a gentle hill that overlooked the vineyard, and adjoining it was a second building that had been used as a cellar door frequented by locals and tourists alike. For years, Hugh Mathers had entertained wine enthusiasts, from the amateurs to the pros. They had tasted his wines and enjoyed them with complementary cheeses, meats, and pastes. People came back not just for the drinks but for his welcoming nature and wild stories–many of which were true. She remembered even as he got older, he enjoyed having the company at his cellar door. It was where people congregated any chance they got.

Harper pulled up out front and got out. The idea that all this belonged to her, and to Brookes, remained unreal. Certainly, there were more deserving people he could have passed it on to. Why them? Why her? She’d been gone six years. The only thing she had to do with wine these days was a glass she enjoyed most evenings.

Walking up to the inn, Harper inserted the key in the lock and turned it. She wasn’t sure what to expect when she pushed the door open.

While it looked like the place had been aired out a few times, there was still that smell of a room closed off from the fresh air — a mixture of mould and dust mites. Harper left the door wide open and opened a few windows. Everything else looked neat and orderly, as if someone had been inside to do a clean-up recently. Sheets covered most of the furniture. The shelves were full of books and there was a half full rack of wine in the corner of the room. She remembered Hugh liked to keep one in most of the rooms in the inn, that whenever guests arrived, a good bottle was within reach–at least that had been his theory. Harper smiled at the memory of Hugh. What in the world had he been thinking?

Glancing at the shelves, she noticed numerous wine books alongside cookbooks and fiction novels. She brushed her fingers along them as she moved from one side to the other, catching glimpses of titles–some she was familiar with, others were foreign. Paintings lined the walls; some were local, some by artists Harper did not know. Art had never been her forte, but she appreciated it nonetheless.

She peered into each room, but with every moment she was in the inn, she felt like an intruder that didn’t belong. It felt like Hugh was still there, that this was still his house. In a way, it always would be.

‘I thought you’d be out of town by now?’

Harper turned to see Brookes standing in the doorway with Rover by his side wagging its tail.

‘Something came up,’ Harper said.

‘Certainly did,’ he said. ‘Can I come in?’

Harper shrugged. ‘It’s your property too.’

He seemed to change his mind quickly. ‘I’ll let you be.’ He turned and walked away. Harper was about to say something but stopped herself. What could she say? That she was sorry that she’d left. Maybe a part of her was, but she had her reasons and maybe if he knew what they were, he would understand her reasoning.

How could they own a property together when they couldn’t even be in the same room to hold a conversation? There was no way joint property ownership was going to work. She’d tell him he could have it. Or they could sell it. That could take a while, although the right type of properties often sold quickly, and Mathers Vineyard was an attractive prospect. It had the inn which needed a little love and care. There was the cellar door that, with a revamp, could be a booming business for someone, and the vineyard itself still had quality crop that could produce delicious wines. She wasn’t sure how much properties like this sold for but a million in this market wouldn’t be a stretch, potentially. But would Brookes even want to sell it? She couldn’t imagine why he would want to keep a property with her. They’d have to talk about it, and right now they were having trouble stringing two sentences together. He seemed like he didn’t even want to be in the same room as her, each time making an excuse to leave. Ignoring one another would not make the problem go away. She was going to have to be the one to make the first move.

Harper followed Brookes outside and saw him go into the cellar door. The dog stayed put by the door and after a few moments realised his owner wasn’t taking him inside; the dog resigned to waiting obediently and lay down, its gaze fixated on whatever was in his line of sight.

‘Listen Brookes, we have to talk about this,’ Harper said, walking into the cellar door. She was going to continue on, but what she saw stopped her, forcing her mouth agape. Bottles of wine lined the walls, not just a few bottles, but hundreds of them, if not more. The bar itself looked recently remodelled and upgraded with shiny wooden panels; kegs role-played as tables surrounded by high stools.

‘This was his life.’ Brookes turned to her. ‘Hugh put everything into this cellar door. You should have seen it a few years ago. People flocked here. It was impossible to get through the door some weekends. It wasn’t just the wine, though; Hugh had a way with people. He brought them in and made them feel like he was their best friend, their confidante. He had a skill that came to life in this place.’

The images on the walls were of locals and tourists, most with their arms around Hugh, laughing, wineglass in one hand, sometimes a cigar in the other, or, more often, a piece of cheese to go with the wine.

‘He had plans for this place but no one to do it with. There was only so much one person could do,’ Brookes continued when she didn’t say anything. ‘He always said the wine country was his family and he would do everything in his power to bring it joy, to bring it to life to everyone who visited. After his wife passed, that’s what he concentrated on.’

Harper remembered as a kid that Mathers Vineyard was always packed, even in the off-season. She remembered parties, where even the kids were invited, and late nights were the norm. They’d chase each other around the vineyard until the parents called home time. That was another life. The parties stopped, but the cellar door continued.