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“You making good time?”
“Yeah. I’m just outside of Santa Barbara.”
“Oh! You’ve been driving too fast.” She was right. I had texted her when I’d left. There was no way I’d have made it this far without breaking the speed limit.
“You know I get my lead foot from you,” I teased. Driving fast brought me a sense of freedom—more like escape—as I left the Golden Gate in my rearview.
Grams’s laughter echoed through the line. I could picture her smile, eyes lighting up with happiness, crinkling around the edges. “Don’t I know it.” An audible sigh followed, then she said, “Well, I used to anyway. Been slowing down a bit in my old age.”
“You’re not old, Grams. Age is just a number.”
“Old enough to know better, but still young enough not to care.”
“Totally,” I laughed.
“You just be careful and take your time. No need to rush and be reckless.”
I sighed, rolling my eyes in amusement. “Yes, Grams.”
“Don’t sass me, young lady. I can hear you rolling your eyes through the phone.”
She knew me all too well. “Love you, Grams.”
“Love you more,Cara.” My eyes pricked at the word.
I smiled as I ended the call, looking at the picture of my grandma and me on my screen.
Hours later, I was finally in San Diego County. It had been a while since I’d been to Monarch, but the familiarity of the land called to me like a beacon. As I turned off the main street onto the two-lane road that would take me to the winery, I embraced the familiar smells of earth and nature. No longer was I surrounded by car exhaust and concrete, but by the simplistic, serene scent of fresh air perfumed with grass, orange blossoms, and tilled earth. All the fragrant aromas that reminded me of my youth.
The hills glowed green under the setting sun, rows and rows of vines stood in greeting. Some of these were the same vines planted by my great-great-grandfather’s hands, the very man who had bought this land and established Moretti Vineyards.
Two buildings stood at the top of the hill. The tasting room located on the south side of our property offered the best view of the winery, something our customers always admired. My grandparents’ house was set in the north, offering a glorious view, but inset so it wasn’t visible to our visiting guests. The natural fieldstone work, a mixture of tans, grays, and browns, offered a great contrast to the light brown stucco and dark brown shutters.
Night-blooming jasmine and orange blossoms that lined the edges of our wraparound porch sweetened the air. Sophia Moretti, my Grams, was waiting in her chair on the front porch, just like I knew she would be.
“Oh,Cara! Let me get a look at you.” She grabbed my face between both her hands. Her golden-brown eyes twinkled, misted with tears, her hair perfectly set in place, makeup impeccably applied. “My beautiful girl. Welcome home,Cara.” She kissed me once on each cheek in welcome.
I sighed into her. She smelled like lilacs, and my breath hitched as I took in her familiar scent. The screen door squeaked as my grandfather came to join us.
“Ah, Siena, my pride and joy. How I’ve missed you!”
“I’ve missed you too, Pops.” He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me to him and into the warmth of his embrace.
“Come.Mangia,mangia. Dinner’s waiting.” Grams maneuvered us inside.
Sitting down to homemade lasagna complete with an antipasto salad, garlic bread, and the winery’s delicious chianti, my grandparents asked about my drive and brought me up to speed about the winery and how things had changed since I’d been back. Pops had taken over the responsibilities of vintner since Joseph’s retirement after suffering from a stroke. I knew they wanted to talk more about me, about the real reason for my abrupt visit, but I was exhausted.
“I will tell you everything tomorrow. I promise. I just want to crawl into bed.”
A look of worry passed between them. “I’ll get your stuff,” Pops said.
“Just the two suitcases right now. I’ll get everything else tomorrow.” I walked out with him, his quiet presence a comfort.
“Jenny can’t wait to see you,” he said as we mounted the front steps.
“I know. We’re supposed to have a girls’ night soon. Lauren and Audrey too.”
“That’ll be nice.” My grandmother waited at the base of the stairs.
