These Tangled Vines Page 50

“I wanted to tell you, Maria, that I have very fond memories of you. You made a difference in my life back then, when my parents weren’t exactly what I would call happy to be together. But you kept Connor and me busy with fun things to do, and I enjoyed the time we spent together. I just wanted you to know that.”

Maria carried two small espresso cups on saucers to the table. “I enjoyed spending time with you too. I missed you when you stayed away. So did your father.”

Sloane spooned some sugar into her cup. “Yes, that’s obvious to me now, and I feel badly about that too. I think when you’re young, you believe your parents will always be there, and well . . .” She paused. “I think Connor and I were more selfish than most children, and Mom didn’t try to steer us another way. I think she preferred that we weren’t close to Dad. She was bitter toward him, and she encouraged us to do what we wanted, which was to stay in LA, because she knew it would hurt him.” Sloane suddenly recognized her mother’s motivations because she was paddling in those same waters herself, feeling angry toward Alan and wanting to cut him out of her life completely and take her children with her.

“It colored how we felt about Dad,” Sloane continued, “and I don’t think we had a fair perception of him.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Maria replied, “but I can’t say I’m surprised. Your mother never liked it here. Maybe she worried that if you spent time here, you would eventually choose him and this place over her.”

“I suspect that’s true.” Sloane was quiet for a moment, then looked up. “Did Dad know he had a heart condition? Did anyone know?”

Maria shook her head. “He seemed healthy as a horse. It caught us all by surprise. But that’s life, I suppose. It’s important to cherish every day, not take anything for granted.” She sipped her espresso. “How are you holding up? You were very quiet at the funeral.”

Sloane sighed. “Yes. Dad’s passing was a shock to us. And I have to be honest, even though I hate to admit it—but Connor and I were distracted. All we could think about was what we were going to inherit in the will. I don’t even remember much about the wake. It was like I slept through it all. I barely glanced at Dad in his coffin. I suppose I didn’t want to face the fact that he had actually died. It didn’t really hit me until the next day, when we were waiting for the lawyers to arrive and tell us what he’d left to us. Then suddenly I realized that he was gone, and I’d never see him again, and this part of my life was truly over, because Connor wanted to sell the winery.”

Sloane realized she had been stirring her tiny cup of espresso the entire time she had been talking. She dropped the spoon into the saucer and buried her forehead in a hand. “I’m so sorry, Maria. I’ve been completely self-absorbed. For years. All I wanted was a life that was perfect, a life that everyone would envy. It was all Mom ever wanted for me, and she encouraged me to marry Alan, who I now realize was a total louse, even then. But he was rich, and she loved that about him.” Sloane bowed her head and shook it. “You must think I’m a terrible, shallow person.”

Maria said nothing for a moment, then reached across the table and touched Sloane’s hand. “I don’t think that.”

Sloane tried to pull herself together. She took a few calming breaths.

“Did Dad ever talk to you about us?” she asked. “Did he say he was disappointed? Or that he hated us?”

“He didn’t hate you,” Maria replied. “He loved you very much, and he missed you. I know it because he used to cry about you sometimes if he’d had too much to drink.”

Sloane bowed her head. “Oh God. That’s not easy to hear.” She sat for a moment, quietly reflecting. “I should have kept in touch with him. With all of you. I’m going to regret that for the rest of my life.”

Maria shook her head. “No, don’t do that to yourself,” she said. “Just love your children and try to be happy. Be grateful for the time you did have with your father. Wherever he is now, I’m sure he’s seeing what’s in your heart today.”

Sloane squeezed Maria’s hand. “You’re still an angel.” Then she sat back and finished her espresso. “I don’t know what happened between him and Fiona’s mother. We might not ever know, but whatever it was, I think I’m going to have to learn to accept it.”

She thought of Connor’s reaction to the will and doubted he would ever accept it. He would keep fighting, or at the very least, he would be bitter about it forever. Sloane wondered if Connor had inherited more of their mother’s genes than she had, because their mother never seemed to be able to move on after a divorce without a great deal of hostility.

“I don’t want to turn out like my mom,” Sloane quietly added, “believing that everyone is the enemy and life is a battlefield and whoever gets the most money in the end wins.”

“Then don’t,” Maria said simply.

Sloane nodded and wished once again that she had gotten to know her father better.

 

During the walk back from her visit with Maria, Sloane called her cousin Ruth. “Did you get home okay? How was your mum on the flight?”

“She did fine, all things considered,” Ruth replied. “She’s pretty sad about your dad, though.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Strolling back along the path that circled around one of the vineyards, Sloane looked down at the sun-warmed soil beneath her feet and was grateful to have her cousin to talk to. “I’m just walking back to the villa after a visit with Maria.”

“How is she doing?”

“Good. Acted like a second mother. Makes me wish I had visited more when I had the chance.”

“Life’s not over yet. You can still visit her anytime.”

“But the winery belongs to Fiona now. I’d feel awkward.”

“I understand. That’s going to be strange.” Ruth paused. “But I have to say, it was shocking to see how much Fiona looked like a female version of your dad when he was younger. And I saw a resemblance to you too. You could be sisters. Wait a second. You already are.”

Sloane chuckled.

“So what’s she like?” Ruth asked. “We had to leave right after the meeting, so I didn’t get a chance to talk to her. And Mum was in shock over what your dad did. She would have preferred that he leave the business to her and me, if not you and Connor. Then at least it would have remained in the family.”

“Fiona is family, though,” Sloane reminded her. “And I’d describe her as very down to earth. Not materialistic. I talked to her earlier today, and she was surprisingly relaxed about the situation with Connor. She was basically saying, Whatever will be will be.”

“Wow.”

Sloane sighed. “I wish I could be more like her, considering what’s going on with Alan. I didn’t tell you about the picture he sent to Chloe last night.”

Sloane relayed the story, and naturally, Ruth was shocked. “My God. And you signed a prenup. What are you going to do?”

Sloane reached the end of the path and approached the back of her father’s villa. The sight of it caused an intense feeling of loss in her, as if everything familiar and steady in her world was falling away, like a giant sinkhole beneath her feet.

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