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But maybe, he’d offered what was the truth in his heart.
I headed inside, unable to wipe the smile from my face.
* * *
My family sat around our kitchen table, full and happy, and discussing the future of Zanetti Winery. The adults had espresso except Mum who said she needed a sherry after all that had happened.
“I don’t want to have a stake in the business.” Anthea sighed, bouncing her eighteen-month-old son on her knee. My nephew was teething and Anthea had dark circles under her eyes. “Geoff has been made an offer to go up north to manage a spare parts store in Mackay. And, I’m just not into wine or grapes.” Anthea flashed me a brief smile. “It was always you and Maria tinkering with the machines or out in the vines. I like cooking and waitressing in the restaurant. Maybe one day I’ll open my own café or something.”
Our father sighed, mirroring Anthea.Like father, like daughter.
“You are a wonderful cook, Anthea.” He stood and walked over to plant a kiss on her forehead. “And a good mother. But surely Geoff doesn’t—”
“He’s said yes, Dad. He starts his new job in a month. We’ll move in two to three weeks.”
“Oh, my baby.” Mum kissed Anthea several times and took her grandson for a cuddle. “We must farewell you and Geoff and the kids with a big meal. Invite everyone. After opera.”
“Sounds good, Mum.”
Anthea was relaxed and content, despite being tired. She loved being a mother. She’d found her place in the world for now.
“Perhaps we see you and the grandkids for holidays. See the islands in the Whitsundays.” Everyone stared at my father. You could’ve heard the vines growing with the silence that had suddenly dropped. He’d never had a holiday from the vineyard since … ever. He cleared his throat as Mum eyed him closely. “Because I’d like to discuss with my other daughters about how they can step up with the business, and I start to step back.”
My breath hitched.
Maria grinned. “I won’t be FIFO forever. The money’s good, but in terms of lifestyle, it’s pretty rubbish. But I’d like to overhaul our plant and equipment maintenance, including the fermentation equipment.”
“Rosie has ideas to expand into weddings and functions.” Dad pulled a folded document from the back pocket of his work pants and placed it on the table for all to see.My proposal.“At opera, we always get enquiries and we’ve always said no, only doing family functions. But …” He cleared his throat again. “We could expand the restaurant.”
I could barely hold back from jumping in. “We export small amounts of wine and have stock in some independent bottle shops, but the fact is, we will always be boutique in terms of industry size. We can never compete with the big companies down south. But we can compete as a destination where guests can only get what we offer.”
“Let me guess,” Maria said, smiling. “Wombats.”
“Yes,” I said plainly. “I have copies of my ideas for you and Anthea.”
Dad shuffled in his seat. “Rosalba has a plan to have a viewing platform for the wombats in the foothills. Tourists come to watch them graze at dusk, and then they stay for dinner and wine.”
“Wombat weddings,” Maria quipped.
Dad snorted. “But now we talk about opera and the preparations. And after opera, we put in place changes for the future.”
It was late when we finished our lists for tomorrow’s jobs. I carried plates and empty wine bottles to the sink while Mum went with Anthea to help her put the kids into the car. Maria took the keys to check all doors and locks for the night.
“Leave this for morning, Rosalba.” Dad waved me off from the dishwashing liquid. “I am speaking with Tom tomorrow.”
“Why? What about?”
“He owes me an explanation.”
“About?” I pressed again.
“It is a men’s matter.”
“Is it about me?” Dad frowned, and I rolled my eyes. “So it is a me matter.”
“Rosalba, as your father, I needed to talk to him, man to man.”
“Ugh. Fine.” I threw down a tea towel and started for my room.
