These Tangled Vines(86)
“That’s how I felt,” Sloane said. “It was easier not to face any of that.”
“And though it’s important to look forward, not back,” Fiona added, “I also think it’s important to reflect on past mistakes and learn from them. It helps you move forward in the right direction.”
Evan approached and tugged at Sloane’s sleeve. “Mom, can Chloe and I go explore?”
“Sure, as long as you don’t leave the building without telling me.”
“We won’t.”
As soon as the children were gone, Fiona regarded Sloane curiously. “Have you made any decisions about your marriage?”
Sloane sighed. “That’s a tough one. Connor thinks I’d be crazy to divorce Alan, and he doesn’t think I’ll go through with it. Lord knows I’ve never followed through before, but something feels different this time. Maybe it was coming here and remembering the person I used to be. Or meeting you and seeing how relaxed you are about the money. Whatever the reason, I feel like I can’t let the prenup keep me from doing what’s right. Money shouldn’t be the reason I stay with Alan, at the cost of my dignity and self-esteem. I want to be a good mother—the kind of woman who’s not a doormat and can’t be bought. I want my kids to know what it means for a woman to be strong and independent. I just hope I can figure out how to be that kind of woman. I feel like I’ve been locked away in Alan’s ivory tower for the past ten years, and I’m terrified of what will happen when I leave it. I don’t know what to expect, and I don’t know how to do any of this on my own. I’ve never even had a job.”
“You’ve been a mother. That’s a big job.”
Sloane shrugged, as if she didn’t think it would count for much out there in the real world.
“Well, it’s never too late to start fresh,” Fiona replied. “On that note, I have something to tell you.”
“What’s that?”
Fiona strolled to the collection of wine with Sloane’s name on it. “This place is part of your heritage, and your children’s, and I’m your half sister. Evan and Chloe are my niece and nephew. So I asked Mr. Wainwright to write a new will for me. I’m setting it up so that you, Evan, and Chloe will be my heirs and inherit this place one day.”
Sloane wasn’t sure she’d heard Fiona correctly. “What did you just say?”
Fiona faced her. “I don’t have children of my own, and I’m not sure I ever will. If I do, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it and divide the winery up appropriately, but for now, I want to make sure this stays in the family.”
Out of the blue, a childhood memory emerged from somewhere deep in Sloane’s consciousness. She felt her father’s strong arms scooping her up to carry her on his shoulders across an olive grove. She had felt safe and loved in those days, comfortable and at home. She realized she hadn’t felt that way in many years.
Fiona continued. “And believe me when I say that I want you to come here and visit as often as you like. Your rooms in the villa will always be yours. I mean it, Sloane. I’ve been an only child my entire life, and this has been an incredible experience for me . . . coming here and getting to know a part of my life I never knew existed. The villa can be a home for you, or a second home if you want to live in London or LA or wherever.”
Sloane inclined her head. “You’re not planning to sell? Connor thought you might. That’s what he would have done if Dad had left it to us.”
Fiona looked around at all the bottles stacked up against the walls. “I admit, I did think about it. It didn’t take long for an agent to call and make an offer, but I never called him back. Now I know what I want. I want to keep this place because it feels like home. And if your husband won’t give you the money to buy Connor’s share of your London house, I’ll give it to you. You won’t lose it.”
“Seriously? Fiona, are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” She moved to the collection with her mother’s name on it. “Our father made an exceptional wine, and this place was special to my mom. She was never able to come back here, but she dreamed about it until the day she died. I think if she were here, she’d want me to enjoy it and share it with you.” Fiona picked up one of her mother’s bottles and dusted off the label with the palm of her hand. “I say there’s no time like the present. How about we enjoy this bottle, right now.”
“Now?”
“Yes. I feel like celebrating. I want to raise a glass and toast to the fact that I have a sister and a niece and a nephew—and a brother, if he ever decides to lay down his sword. What do you say? We can go sit by the pool and pop the cork.”
Sloane smiled. “That sounds wonderful. Let’s go find the kids.”
Together they walked out, and Sloane held on to the bottle of wine while Fiona closed the big oak door and locked it securely behind them.
CHAPTER 28
FIONA
The flight home across the ocean was far less plaguing than the red-eye I had endured on my journey to Italy. Somehow, I lucked into a direct daytime flight from Rome to New York, with a brief one-hour layover at JFK, no delays, and I flew first class all the way. Whenever the flight attendant offered me something delicious to eat or refilled my glass of wine, I couldn’t stop pinching myself. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.