Her gaze moved across the crowd until she found her daughter-in-law. Barbara watched Mackenzie talking with some of the winery owners and she smiled as she saw how they all listened attentively. Mackenzie had been a find, she thought warmly. A shy but gifted young woman who had immediately understood Barbara’s vision of what Bel Après could be. Even if Rhys hadn’t married her, Barbara would have hired her. But he had and Mackenzie had joined the family.
Barbara’s warm, happy feelings vanished as Catherine, her youngest, joined Mackenzie. That girl, Barbara thought grimly, taking in the flowing tie-dyed dress most likely created from a couple of pillowcases and a yak bladder. Catherine’s mission in life was to not be ordinary and to annoy her mother as much as possible. Happily for her, the quest for the former naturally led to the latter.
She felt a hand on her waist, then a kiss on her bare neck. She turned and smiled at Giorgio, who pulled her close.
“You’re looking fierce about something,” he said, pressing his body to hers. “Tell me what troubles you, my love, and I will find a solution.”
“How I wish that were true.” She nodded toward Mackenzie and Catherine. “My daughter’s a mess. Can you fix that? And while you’re at it, can you make her stop being an artist and find an actual career?”
Giorgio, a tall man who, despite being sixty-five, was still vibrant and handsome, said, “She’s lovely. She’ll never have the beauty her mother possesses, but she is a sweet, caring young woman.”
“You’re too kind.” She smiled at him. “I mean that. Stop being so nice. What is she wearing? At least her husband had the good sense to put on a decent shirt, and the kids look fine.”
He took her in his arms and spun her in time with the music. “Let her be who she is, at least for tonight. Think only of me.”
She laughed as she moved with him onto the dance floor. “That’s very easy to do.”
As they danced, Catherine once again came into view. Her daughter smiled at her and raised a glass of wine, as if in a toast. Something really had to be done about her, Barbara thought, although she had no idea what.
“May I cut in, or would that break the mood?”
Barbara smiled at Rhys, her only son. “You may.”
Giorgio pretended distress. “Fine. A single dance, but then I must reclaim your mother.”
“I’ll bring her back to you unharmed,” Rhys promised, guiding her through a series of quick steps. “Great party, Mom.”
“It is. Stephanie did an excellent job, much to my surprise. The bruschetta bar is very popular. She was right about that.” She looked at her son. “Have you seen what Catherine is wearing?”
“Mom, let it go.”
“She looks terrible.”
“Jaguar doesn’t seem to think so.”
Barbara followed his gaze and saw Catherine and her husband slow dancing, despite the fast pace of the music. Typical, she thought with a sigh. God forbid Catherine should dance to the same beat as everyone else.
As for Jaguar—actually his real name. Barbara had insisted on seeing his birth certificate before agreeing to the marriage—he wanted whatever Catherine did. The woman practically led him around by the nose.
“Stop,” Rhys told her. “You’re getting your ‘my daughter is annoying me’ look. Enjoy the party.”
“I am. It is a lovely night. I’ll even pretend I didn’t notice that you and Mackenzie were late.”
“By fifteen minutes, Mom. She was in the west vineyards communing with the grapes.”
“Is she still happy with how things are progressing?”
Her son smiled. “You know she is. Otherwise, she would have been in your office, telling you every little thing that was wrong.”
Barbara knew that was true. Mackenzie always kept her informed. They were such a good team.
The song ended and Rhys led her back to Giorgio, who was chatting with several guests. As Barbara walked over to the bar to get a glass of wine, her youngest joined her.
“Barbara,” Catherine said pleasantly. “Wonderful party.”
Barbara did her best not to bristle. At the beginning of high school, Catherine had insisted on changing her name to Four, of all things. As in the fourth child. Barbara had refused to accommodate her, so Catherine had started calling her by her first name, to be annoying.
Barbara simply didn’t understand where things had gone wrong. She’d been loving but fair, had limited TV and made all her children eat plenty of greens. Sometimes parenting was such a crapshoot.
She motioned to her daughter’s dress. “One of your own creations?”
Catherine spun in a circle. “It is. Don’t you love it?”
“With all my heart.”
Catherine grinned. “Sarcasm? Really?”
“What did you want me to say?”
Catherine’s good humor never faded. “What you said is perfect.”
As her daughter drifted away, Barbara moved closer to Giorgio. He put his arm around her waist, the pressure against her back both comforting and familiar. She nodded as he talked, not really listening to the conversation. Whatever he was saying would be charming. He was like that—well-spoken, always dressed correctly for the occasion. He had an enviable way with people and a natural charm she’d never possessed. She supposed that was what she’d first noticed—how easy he made everything when he was around.
This night, she thought with contentment. It was exactly right. Her children and grandchildren were around her. Giorgio was here. The vines were healthy and strong and come September there would be another harvest.
She spotted Avery, her oldest grandchild, talking to her father, Stephanie’s ex. Kyle was too smooth by far, Barbara reminded herself. Their marriage had been a disaster from the beginning, but Stephanie had been pregnant, so there had been no way to avoid the entanglement or the subsequent divorce.
At least Avery and Carson hadn’t been scarred by the breakup. Barbara couldn’t believe Avery was already sixteen. She was going to have to remind Stephanie to keep a close eye on her daughter when it came to boys and dating. If she didn’t, there was going to be a second generation with an unplanned pregnancy, and no one wanted that.
She often told people that children and vineyards meant constant worry. Just when you were ready to relax, a new season started with new challenges.
Stephanie walked over to her. “Mom, it’s about time for the toast, if you’re ready.”
“I am.”
Barbara excused herself to follow her daughter toward the DJ and the small platform by the dance floor. She took the microphone the young man offered and stared out at the crowd. Stephanie called for quiet and it took only a few seconds for the party to go silent.