“Trying to hold it all together.”
His hand found the small of my back and stayed there. “I think everyone’s here. Ready to start?”
I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and addressed the room. “Dad, Mom, I have an announcement to make.”
Conversations died away, and everyone turned to face me.
My voice shook when I started speaking. “I was cleaning out the attic while you were in Napa. I know that’s probably not surprising since I’ve never been able to sit still when there’s work to be done.”
My father’s mouth curved into a grin. “That’s our Saffron. Always has to be doing something.”
A few chuckles rippled through the room, and the warmth and affection in those sounds steadied me enough to continue.
“I found something while I was up there. Marilyn Hope’s journal from 1955, the one she kept when she and Concepción Avila made the Christmas Blessing Wine.”
Confusion flickered across my parents’ faces, but I kept going before they could interrupt with questions.
“I found the journal the day after I overheard your phone call, Dad.” I didn’t say more than that. While I wanted him to know that I was aware of the impending foreclosure, the last thing I would ever do was humiliate him.
“Finding it gave me an idea,” I continued, feeling more confident when Snapper’s hand pressed more firmly against my back. “I talked to Snapper about it, and we came up with a plan. The Hopes and Avilas would partner to make this wine together, the way our grandmothers did seventy years ago. Everyone in this room helped make it happen, and the plan is to split the profits between our two families.”
My dad’s eyes scrunched, and my mother’s filled with tears, but before either could speak, I turned to Cru. “Can you take it from here?” I asked.
He cleared his throat and rested his hand on the tapped barrel. “Our original projections were for fifteen hundred bottles, but since we harvested before we had the exact blend percentages figured out, we ended up with more juice than we anticipated. Now, I think we have enough for at least two thousand bottles, maybe more.”
My parents looked confused about the reference to percentages, as I filed away the happy surprise of having more wine than we’d originally planned. Snapper’s arm came around my shoulders and squeezed gently.
“Our plan is to hold an auction,” I said when Cru looked over at me. “Between Christmas and New Year’s Eve.”
Both my parents understood the significance of that timing. I saw it in the way my mom’s hand found Dad’s as he struggled to maintain his composure.
His gaze met mine, then he perused the room slowly, meeting the eyes of each person in the room. One by one, they raised their empty glasses in his direction. These were his peers, his friends, people who had worked beside him for decades, and each connected look communicated solidarity.
Tears filled his eyes. His mouth opened, closed, opened again, but nothing came out.
My mom stepped forward and pulled me into a fierce hug, and I realized she was crying.
“My brave girl,” she whispered against my hair. “My stubborn, brilliant, wonderful girl. You did all this?”
“Not alone,” I said, looking up at Snapper. When she released me, she embraced him equally hard, then took my hand.
“Saffron Hope, you are the most infuriatingly independent person I have ever known. You get it from your father.” She laughed through her tears and hugged me again. “I am so proud of you. So incredibly proud.”
When she let go, Dad was there. He didn’t say anything at first, just wrapped me in a hug that felt like it was holding both of us up, but I could feel him trembling.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I should have told you what was happening. I should have told you the truth instead of trying to protect you from it.”
“It’s okay, Dad.”
“No, it isn’t. But we’re going to make it okay.” He looked at me with red-rimmed eyes. “Thank you, Saffron.”
“You’re welcome.” I gestured toward the barrel before I could talk myself out of it. “Shall we taste?”
Just as Cru moved toward it, I heard him say to Snapper, “What’s she doing here?”
I turned to look.“Isabel?”
“I heard there was a special tasting taking place tonight. I didn’t want to miss it.” She glanced around the room until her gaze landed on Kick. “No one minds, right?”
