These Tangled Vines(93)

As I admired his graceful brushstrokes and his brilliant mix of color, I felt a connection to him like never before. My father. Winemaker and artist. I also understood my mother’s love for him and her love for this place, her passion for the vineyards and the people of Tuscany. In the painting, I saw my future, years from now, working with the crews to prune the grapevines and study the soil, to plan the harvests. I knew in that moment that I would spend my life preserving something beloved and valuable.

At the same time, I would build something new, looking forward, not back. I was already working on a special blend of wine to commemorate Anton’s love for my mother, which had never been celebrated before. I would paint the label myself.

And though I tried to let go of certain things and live without regret, I was beginning to accept that regret would always be a part of my life. I was only human, after all, and as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t escape it. What I decided was that I would not let it consume or define me. For the most part, I was at peace with how my life had unfolded, and I would embrace my regret—and my ability to work at forgiveness—as evidence of my humanity. I would wake up each morning and count my blessings.

Rolling up the canvas, I smiled, then slid it back into the wooden crate with the others. I then returned to my own work in progress on the easel. Tilting my head to the side, I narrowed my eyes, taking in the shapes and proportions of my sketch. I tried to envision the color palette and saw blue, yellow, and orange for the setting sun and different shades of white for the clouds. Silver for the wing of the airplane. It was a rather heavenly view.

Yes, there was much promise there. I had every reason to believe it was going to be a beautiful painting.





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS


Special thanks to our dear friends Natalie and Darrell Munro for suggesting that we take a trip to Tuscany together and tour some wineries. What an adventure it was as we navigated our way around the Italian countryside. You were wonderful travel companions.

The winery in this book—Maurizio Wines—is a fictional composite of a number of vineyards that we visited, so I must thank our many tour guides, who provided invaluable information and histories that served as inspiration for the scenes in this book.

Thanks also to my friend Benedetta Holmes for your generous and careful reading of the first draft of the novel and for your indispensable help with the Italian translations and other elements of the Italian setting. I will always be grateful for your friendship.

To my cousin Michelle Killen (a.k.a. Michelle McMaster)—thank you for your loving friendship and for remaining my talented and irreplaceable critique partner for a quarter of a century. And to my cousin Julia Phillips Smith—you mean so much to me, and I don’t know what I would do without your help every single day!

Thanks also to my agent, Paige Wheeler, for your continuing professional excellence and for being the person who is always in my corner and working hard behind the scenes. To Alicia Clancy, my editor at Lake Union, for being so good at what you do and for coming up with the concept for this book, which you called The Will . It was a spark that lit a fire in me and sent me on an incredible journey, both literally and figuratively. And then your editorial comments and suggestions made this book so much better on so many levels. Finally, to the Lake Union marketing team—you are this author’s dream come true!

Thank you, Kimberly Dossett, for your sharp and thorough attention to all the little details surrounding my writing career.

Finally, thank you to my husband, Stephen, for being amazing in every way, to our daughter, Laura, for making us proud and adding so much love and laughter to our lives, and to my mother, Noel, for your love and support each day. What a wonderful life you gave me.