She poured two snifters, then walked over to sit on the footstool in front of Pilar's chair.
"Drink up, honey. You look pale."
Saying nothing, Pilar opened her hand. The ring glinted once in the firelight.
"Yeah, I figured that when the slut kept flashing the rock of ages on her finger. They deserve each other. He never deserved you."
"Stupid, stupid to be shaken like this. We haven't been married for years, not in any real sense. But thirty years, Helen." She held up the ring and, looking through that empty circle, saw her life. Narrow and encapsulated. "Thirty goddamn years. She was in diapers when I met Tony."
"That's the big ouch. So she's younger and got bigger breasts." Helen shrugged. "God knows those reasons alone are enough to hate her fucking guts. I'm with you there, and so's the crowd. But think of this. If she sticks with him, by the time she's our age, she'll be feeding him baby food and changing his diapers."
Pilar let out a moaning laugh. "I hate where I am, and I don't know how to get someplace else. I didn't even fight back, Helen."
"So you're not a warrior." Helen rose to sit on the arm of the chair, wrapped an arm around Pilar's shoulder. "You're a beautiful, intelligent, kind woman who got a raw deal. And damn, honey, if this door finally closing isn't the best thing for you."
"God, now you sound like Tony."
"No need to be insulting. Besides, he didn't mean that, and I do."
"Maybe, maybe. I can't see clearly now. I can't see through the next hour much less the next year. God, I didn't even make him pay. Didn't have the guts to make him pay."
"Don't worry, she will." Helen leaned over, kissed the top of Pilar's head. No man like Tony should slip through life without paying, she thought.
"And if you want to scald him a bit, I'll help you outline a divorce settlement that will leave him with permanent scars and one shriveled testicle."
Pilar smiled a little. She could always count on Helen. "As entertaining as that might be, it'd just drag things out, and make it more difficult for Sophie. Helen, what the hell am I going to do with the new life that's been dumped in my lap?"
"We'll think of something."
Sophia was doing a lot of thinking herself. She was already getting a headache from reading the pages of the contract. She got the gist of it, even mired in the legalese. And the gist was La Signora maintained control as she always had. Over the next year Sophia would be expected to prove herself, which she'd thought she had. If she did, to her grandmother's satisfaction, some of that much-desired control would be passed to her hands.
Well, she wanted it. She didn't much care for the way she'd have to go about getting it. But she could see the reasoning.
The hardest part was in nearly always being able to see her grandmother's reasoning. Perhaps because, under it all, they thought so much alike.
She had not taken a deep and intimate interest in the making of wine. Loving the vineyards for their beauty, knowing the basics wasn't the same as investing time, emotion and effort into them. And if she would one day step into her grandmother's place, she needed to do so.
Maybe she preferred boardrooms to fermenting tanks, but…
She glanced over at Tyler, who was scowling down at his own contract.
This one took the tanks over the boardroom. That would make them a good business match, or contrast, she supposed. And he had every bit as much at stake as she did.
Yes, La Signora had, once again, been as brilliant as she'd been ruthless. Now that her temper had cleared away to allow for cool common sense, she could see not only that it could work, but that it would.
Unless Ty mucked things up.
"You don't like it," she said.
"What the hell's to like about it? It was a goddamn ambush."
"Agreed. That's Nonna's style. Troops fall in line more quickly and in a more organized fashion when you order them to right before the battle. Give them too much time to think, they might desert the field. Are
"Drink up, honey. You look pale."
Saying nothing, Pilar opened her hand. The ring glinted once in the firelight.
"Yeah, I figured that when the slut kept flashing the rock of ages on her finger. They deserve each other. He never deserved you."
"Stupid, stupid to be shaken like this. We haven't been married for years, not in any real sense. But thirty years, Helen." She held up the ring and, looking through that empty circle, saw her life. Narrow and encapsulated. "Thirty goddamn years. She was in diapers when I met Tony."
"That's the big ouch. So she's younger and got bigger breasts." Helen shrugged. "God knows those reasons alone are enough to hate her fucking guts. I'm with you there, and so's the crowd. But think of this. If she sticks with him, by the time she's our age, she'll be feeding him baby food and changing his diapers."
Pilar let out a moaning laugh. "I hate where I am, and I don't know how to get someplace else. I didn't even fight back, Helen."
"So you're not a warrior." Helen rose to sit on the arm of the chair, wrapped an arm around Pilar's shoulder. "You're a beautiful, intelligent, kind woman who got a raw deal. And damn, honey, if this door finally closing isn't the best thing for you."
"God, now you sound like Tony."
"No need to be insulting. Besides, he didn't mean that, and I do."
"Maybe, maybe. I can't see clearly now. I can't see through the next hour much less the next year. God, I didn't even make him pay. Didn't have the guts to make him pay."
"Don't worry, she will." Helen leaned over, kissed the top of Pilar's head. No man like Tony should slip through life without paying, she thought.
"And if you want to scald him a bit, I'll help you outline a divorce settlement that will leave him with permanent scars and one shriveled testicle."
Pilar smiled a little. She could always count on Helen. "As entertaining as that might be, it'd just drag things out, and make it more difficult for Sophie. Helen, what the hell am I going to do with the new life that's been dumped in my lap?"
"We'll think of something."
Sophia was doing a lot of thinking herself. She was already getting a headache from reading the pages of the contract. She got the gist of it, even mired in the legalese. And the gist was La Signora maintained control as she always had. Over the next year Sophia would be expected to prove herself, which she'd thought she had. If she did, to her grandmother's satisfaction, some of that much-desired control would be passed to her hands.
Well, she wanted it. She didn't much care for the way she'd have to go about getting it. But she could see the reasoning.
The hardest part was in nearly always being able to see her grandmother's reasoning. Perhaps because, under it all, they thought so much alike.
She had not taken a deep and intimate interest in the making of wine. Loving the vineyards for their beauty, knowing the basics wasn't the same as investing time, emotion and effort into them. And if she would one day step into her grandmother's place, she needed to do so.
Maybe she preferred boardrooms to fermenting tanks, but…
She glanced over at Tyler, who was scowling down at his own contract.
This one took the tanks over the boardroom. That would make them a good business match, or contrast, she supposed. And he had every bit as much at stake as she did.
Yes, La Signora had, once again, been as brilliant as she'd been ruthless. Now that her temper had cleared away to allow for cool common sense, she could see not only that it could work, but that it would.
Unless Ty mucked things up.
"You don't like it," she said.
"What the hell's to like about it? It was a goddamn ambush."
"Agreed. That's Nonna's style. Troops fall in line more quickly and in a more organized fashion when you order them to right before the battle. Give them too much time to think, they might desert the field. Are
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