The Sparkling One

14

Mia sat on the floor in David’s dorm room and watched him pace the small space from the desk to the door.

“I can’t even remember how it started,” David admitted, then crossed to the opposite bed and flopped down on his back. “Then we were just arguing.”

Mia had a feeling that David remembered exactly how the fight with his dad had started, but for some reason he didn’t want to tell her. The fact that he was keeping it a secret bothered her. It wasn’t as if she was going to go all hysterical and start screaming or something. That so wasn’t her style. She also wasn’t pleased that David had taken nearly a week to tell her what was wrong.

She’d known instantly there was a problem, but he’d denied it for the first three days and had refused to talk about it for the next three.

“He said that he didn’t want me screwing up my life the way his life had been screwed up,” David admitted miserably.

Mia crossed to kneel next to the narrow bed. She placed one hand on his chest. “You know what he was trying to say. He’s worried that we’re getting married too young. He wasn’t telling you that you’d ruined his life. David, your dad loves you. Everyone can see that. He’s happy when you’re with him and he’s proud of you.”

“I know.” He turned his head toward her. Tears glistened in his eyes, but he blinked them away. “It hurt right then, you know. But I’m okay with it now. The thing is I kinda thought he was coming around. About the wedding.”

“But he’s not,” Mia said flatly, wondering why she hadn’t figured that out before. Now that David said the words, she realized it was so incredibly obvious.

For a second she thought about getting mad. It was totally insulting in a way. But she knew in her heart David’s dad wasn’t mad that David wanted to marry her-he would have gone ballistic about David marrying anyone.

“What happened when you talked to him later?” she asked.

David sat up and cleared his throat. “What time is it? Are you hungry?”

Mia stared at him. “You haven’t talked to him, have you?”

David wouldn’t meet her gaze. “I’ve been busy.”

She rolled her eyes. “Has he tried to talk to you?”

“I think he might have called. I don’t remember.”

Translation-Zach had been trying to get in touch with his son for days. Mia felt frustration bubbling to the surface.

“If you keep acting like a kid, your dad is going to treat you like one. If you want to show him you’re ready to get married, then act like a grown-up. After a big fight you can’t just ignore the whole thing. You have to own up to what happened. At least call and say you’re okay.”

David’s blue eyes flashed with determination. “I don’t care if he thinks I’m a kid. I’m over eighteen and he can’t tell me what to do.”

Mia clenched her teeth. If she allowed herself to say even one word, she would scream. David’s “he can’t tell me what to do” statement made him sound about four years old. So much for making her point.

He looked at her. “I don’t need him to approve.”

He sounded defiant enough, but Mia wasn’t sure she believed him. David and his father had always been close and going against him would be very difficult. Besides, even though it made her feel disloyal to admit it, David wasn’t exactly a poster child for the mature young adult. She loved him, but she wasn’t blind to his flaws.

“The wedding is a long way off,” she said. “He might come around.”

David nodded but didn’t look convinced. He flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. “It’s weird not to talk to him for this long. We’ve always talked.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Even when he was mad at me when I was a kid, he talked. Sometimes when he went on and on about something I’d screwed up on, I used to wish he’d just spank me so we could get it over with. But he never did. Not even once. But he talked for hours.”

Mia sat back on her heels and let the love in David’s voice chase away her doubts. One of the things she adored about her fiancé was his ability to love with his whole heart.

“He was always good to me,” David went on, turning his head to look at her. “After my mom left, there wasn’t much money. Dad was in law school and she’d taken the rest of his trust fund. So we struggled. But he made sure there were lots of good times. He traded his car in for a truck with a shell on the back. We’d take it up to the mountains or to the beach and go camping for the weekend. Just us guys.”

“Sounds like fun,” she said and shifted into a sitting position. Her palm came down on something hard and pointed. “Ouch.”

“What?” David hung over the side of the bed.

“I don’t know.” She raised her hand, then ran her fingers through the shag throw rug David and his roommate had bought at the beginning of the school year. Something metal bounced when she hit it.

Mia picked up a small gold hoop. “It’s an earring.”

David reached for it, but she held it out of reach.

“Give it here,” he told her.

“Not until you explain it,” she teased.

He pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Mia, get real. Brian has a new girlfriend every ten days. I have no idea which one of them dropped an earring in here.”

She tossed the piece of jewelry onto Brian’s bed. “You’d better not be messing around on me, mister. If you do, I’ll chop your legs off at the knees.”

She laughed and David grinned. Then he looked away. For a split second Mia felt something cold clutch at her midsection. Then she dismissed the feeling and joined David on his narrow mattress, where he drew her close and told her how much he loved her.

“Everything’s going to be okay with my dad,” he promised.

“I believe you,” she told him, because it was easier than speaking the truth.

“Other people have milk with their cookies,” Brenna said as she picked up another chocolate chip cookie from the plate.

Francesca waved her glass. “They’re philistines.”

Considering the amount of wine the three sisters had already consumed that evening, Francesca’s ability to pronounce a three-syllable word was impressive. Katie herself had passed coherent about thirty minutes ago and was now functioning in that pleasant state of being buzzed. The world might be spinning, but as she didn’t have to go anywhere, what did it matter?

The sisters sprawled across the two double beds in the room that Brenna and Francesca had shared while they’d both lived at the hacienda. Since moving back home after staying with Francesca, Brenna had started packing up memorabilia from high school, but had yet to tackle the excessively pink wallpaper both had loved as teenagers, along with the gaggingly sweet bedspreads, also pink, with flowers, hearts, and swirls of ribbon.

Brenna sat crossed-legged at the foot of the bed, a tray of cookies next to her. Katie sat on the same bed, with her back against the headboard, while Francesca lay in a rather undignified sprawl on the second bed, one arm hanging toward the floor, swinging her half-full wineglass.

“You always had your own room,” Brenna said, turning to glare accusingly at Katie. “I always thought that was unfair.”

Katie laughed. “It’s been nearly ten years. You need to let that go.”

“Not even on a bet.”

Francesca raised her head. Her straight, thick hair hung down, shielding most of her face. “I thought you liked that we shared a room.”

“I did. I just wanted one of my own, too.” She grinned. “Now that my lifelong dream has come true, I’ll be decorating it in red velvet and black satin.”

Katie shook her head. Had the wine affected her hearing?

Francesca looked equally confused. “Because you’re going for the sleazy look?”

“No. Because I’m the seductive one.”

“Seductive…” Katie’s mouth dropped open. “You didn’t!”

Brenna laughed. “Oh, but I did and it’s so embarrassing.”

She unfolded her legs, then set down her wineglass and slid off the bed. From underneath she pulled a shallow, open box. Inside were three bottles.

Katie saw them and winced. Years ago, after a long, boring weekend spent listening to their parents and grandparents plan the detailed wording of wine bottle labels, Katie, Francesca, and Brenna had decided to create their own. They’d taken three unlabeled bottles from the storeroom and had carefully glued on pictures of themselves in full dress-up clothing. On the back they’d applied hand-lettered labels, detailing the glory that was each of them.

Katie took the first bottle Brenna held out, glanced at the picture of an eleven-year-old Francesca, and passed it across to her sister. Francesca groaned.

“The Sassy One,” she read, then gulped more wine. “Francesca Marcelli tosses her long hair in a gesture that marks her as not just the pretty one, but also the Sassy One. Bold, inventive, with just a hint of irrelevance-” She paused. “I think that’s supposed to be irreverence… she is the essence of blossoming illocution.”

Katie laughed as she took the next bottle and recognized a photo of herself. She was dressed in yards of tulle and lace. One of the more elaborate costumes she’d made all those years ago.

“The Sparkling One,” she read. “Katie Marcelli is a carbonated combination of wit and charm. She dazzles, she sparkles, she shines. Like the champagne she embodies, she is only ever special, iridescent, and valued.” Katie glanced up. “I’m iridescent?” She looked at her arm, then held it to the light. “I must have outgrown that.”

Brenna giggled. “At least you get to be glowing colors. I’m just a slut.”

Francesca turned onto her stomach. “Read on, O Seductive One.”

Brenna sighed. “Brenna Marcelli’s sultriness proves that she is the Seductive One. Dark, sweet, and slightly mysterious, she is a gleaming testament to all young women on the verge of lush ripeness.”

Brenna glanced at her sisters. “I used to gleam.”

“You used to hate boys,” Katie reminded her. “What happened?”

“Hormones. I turned eleven and suddenly they were really interesting.” She set down her bottle. “Too bad Mia is so much younger. She was still a baby when we made these. I wonder what she would have been.”

“The Smart One,” Francesca said.

“The One Most Likely to Take Over the World,” Katie said.

Brenna smiled and climbed back on the bed. “So, Francesca, I was thinking we’d show Katie’s bottle to Zach the next time he comes over. What do you think?”

“Brilliant idea.”

Katie shook her head. “No way. I don’t need to be humiliated in front of him again. I’ve already had that pleasure, remember? The first time he came to the house.”

“But you recovered,” Francesca pointed out. “And you seem to be spending a lot of time together.”

Katie felt heat on her cheeks. She told herself it was the wine, but she knew she was lying. “I’m working with the man.”

“Uh-huh.” Brenna picked up the bottle of Cabernet and topped up her glass. “I wonder if there’s more to it than that.”

Francesca took the bottle. “Me, too. All those late-night conversations could be leading to something interesting. He’s good-looking, smart.”

“For a divorce lawyer, he has a lot of heart,” Brenna added. “He cares about his son.”

More than either of them knew, Katie thought uneasily. “We work together. That means we have to keep things professional.”

“And here I was hoping you were going to tell us you’ve already seen him naked,” Brenna said.

“In your dreams,” Francesca told her. “As if Katie would sleep with him.”

It had to be the wine, Katie thought as her mouth opened and words formed. Because she’d certainly planned to keep this particular piece of information to herself.

“Actually I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep.”

There was a moment of silence, then both her sisters started screaming and laughing. Brenna recovered first.

“No way! You did not do it with your client, our baby sister’s future father-in-law, and my divorce lawyer.”

Katie grabbed the wine and drained the last few ounces into her glass. “You make it sound like group sex.”

Francesca nearly choked. “When? Where? Start at the beginning and talk slowly.”

“I went over to his place for a tasting dinner.”

“And you were the entrée?” Brenna asked.

Francesca threw a pillow at her. “That’s disgusting.”

“You haven’t had sex in years, so your opinion doesn’t count,” Brenna told her.

“We actually had the tasting dinner,” Katie said, ignoring them both. “We were talking, and then we were kissing, and then we were upstairs.”

“And?” Brenna prompted.

“It was very nice.”

“It should have been a whole lot better than nice,” Francesca grumbled. “You slept with David’s father.”

“Don’t make him sound old. He’s all of thirty-five,” Brenna said. “I’m guessing all the important bits are still functioning just fine.”

“They are,” Katie said primly.

Brenna collapsed on the bed and rested her feet on Katie’s lap. “I’m going to miss sex. Not that I was having it all that much with my soon-to-be ex.”

“Why not?” Francesca asked.

Brenna shrugged. “He was busy, or gone. Or screwing the bimbo. I don’t know. In the past few months we just never did it. I guess the flame had been dying out for a while, but I was too busy working all the time to notice.”

“Don’t think about him,” Katie urged. “You’ll only upset yourself.”

“You’re right. I’ll think about sex instead. Having it, or not having it. I suppose the good news is that giving up sex with Jeff won’t be a huge hardship.”

Katie nearly dropped her glass. “Excuse me?”

Brenna sat up enough to take a sip of her wine. “Dr. Jeff might be an up-and-coming cardiologist, but he doesn’t know dick about a woman’s sexual wants and desires.”

Francesca struggled into a sitting position. She shifted so that her legs hung over the bed and stared at her sister. “Brenna? What are you saying? How exactly would you know he wasn’t good in bed?”

Katie was also playing mental catch-up. She got there before her sister. “You had sex with someone other than Jeff?”

Brenna blinked several times. “Uh-huh.”

Katie couldn’t believe it. She thought she knew everything about her sisters’ lives. Apparently she was wrong. “Did you have an affair?”

Brenna dropped her head back onto the bed. “Of course not. I wouldn’t cheat on Jeff. Only he did that. This was before.”

Francesca nearly fell off the bed. “You weren’t a virgin when you got married?”

Brenna stared at her sister. “What century are you in? You were the only bridal virgin I knew.”

Francesca reached for her wine and took a gulp, then turned her attention to Katie. “Did you and Greg, well, you know?”

Katie laughed. “Yes, we had sex, and I regret every drop of bodily fluid exchanged.”

“I can’t blame you,” Brenna said. “Who wants to be with a man who prefers death to marriage?”

“That’s not why he went into the army,” Francesca protested.

“Then why?” Brenna asked.

Francesca shrugged.

Katie tried to laugh, but she couldn’t. After all this time her lie should feel like the truth, but it didn’t. Maybe it never would. That was the thing about lies-they tended to live on forever.

“Okay,” Brenna said, reaching for another bottle and the corkscrew. “Your turn, Francesca. ’Fess up. Did you have any secret lovers?”

“Of course not,” she said primly. “I was a virgin when I married Todd.”

Brenna hooted. “Figures. The family beauty is the only one who waited to get laid.”

“I wanted my first time to be with my husband.”

“Talk about pressure,” Brenna muttered.

“I wanted the memory,” Francesca said.

“Fair enough,” Brenna said.

“But I regretted it,” Francesca announced.

Katie felt her mouth drop open. Brenna pulled the cork out of the bottle and nearly dumped the contents onto the bed.

“Being a virgin on your wedding night?” Brenna asked.

“Well, not exactly regretted it, but I do wish I’d slept with Nic Giovanni.”

Katie burst out laughing. “Nic? Our neighbor? Heir to the hated Wild Sea Vineyard? Francesca, I’m shocked.”

Francesca rolled her eyes. “Come on, Katie. Nic was incredibly hot. That tall, dark, brooding thing he had going on was irresistible. Plus he rode a motorcycle and dated lots of girls who put out. I always knew he would be the perfect guy to lose my virginity to. He would make a girl’s first time perfect.”

Katie held out her glass to Brenna, then nodded. “Okay, I’ll confess to Nic Giovanni fantasies, too. I ran into him once when he was home from college one summer. We were in town and he stopped to talk to me. I thought maybe he’d ask me out, but he didn’t.” She sighed at the memory. “I probably would have been willing to give it up for him.”

“My sisters are sluts,” Brenna announced.

Francesca grabbed the wine bottle. “I refuse to believe you didn’t have Nic fantasies, too.”

“I had several,” Brenna said. “But, as you said, we all fantasized about him. Who else do you wish you’d slept with.”

Francesca named a couple of guys Katie remembered from high school. Back then she’d been more into romance than sex, so while she could list a bunch of guys she would have liked to have dated, she wasn’t sure she could claim a willingness to have sex with them.

“You need to just go out there and do it,” Brenna told Francesca. “It’s been too long. Important parts of your body are atrophying.”

Francesca rolled her eyes. “I’m fine.”

“You’re living like a nun.”

Katie had to agree. “Francesca, you’ve taken the whole ‘be independent’ thing way too far. Refusing to marry again is fine, but giving up on doing the wild thing is just plain stupid.”

Francesca raised her eyebrows. “I can’t believe you of all people would say that to me. What happened to waiting for your handsome prince.”

Brenna grinned. “She’s still waiting, but in the meantime she’s not adverse to a little hide the salami.”

Katie laughed. “Hide the salami? That’s disgusting.”

“Easy for you to be all superior and picky,” Brenna grumbled. “You just got laid.”

“Good point.” Katie sipped her wine. “I remembered what I’d been missing.” She turned her attention back to Francesca. “Which is my point. I’m not suggesting you fall in love or anything, but give some guy a chance.”

Francesca didn’t look convinced. “Just some guy? Should I randomly pick one off the street?”

“Absolutely!” Brenna leaned toward her. “I want you to have sex with the next single, reasonably good-looking guy you run across, and I’m not pouring you any more wine until you agree.”

“You’re kidding.”

Brenna looked at Katie. “Are you with me on this?”

“A hundred percent. Francesca needs a man.”

Francesca groaned. “Fine. I’ve probably been out of the game for too long. I’ll look around and-”

Brenna cut her off with a shake of her head. “The next single guy. That’s the rule. Or no more Marcelli reserve in your glass.”

Francesca sighed. “All right. I’ll do it. But the consequences are your responsibility.”

The three sisters leaned forward and clinked glasses.

When Katie straightened, she rested against the foot-board. All this talk of young love and lust made her think of Mia and David, and what Zach had told her. The more she considered what he’d said, the more she came to believe him. But should she tell her sisters what Zach saw between David and that other girl? If she did, they would want to tell Mia, and did she want that?

She didn’t have an answer, and until she did, she decided she would keep quiet.

“All those lost opportunities,” Brenna said mournfully. “Our secret lives.”

“Mom and Dad have secrets.”

Francesca’s unexpected comment silenced Brenna. She and Katie looked at each other, then at their sister.

Francesca swallowed uncomfortably. “I didn’t know if I should say anything. I tried to forget what I overheard, but it’s been bothering me.”

“What?” Brenna asked. “Is it the winery? Is there something wrong with the vineyards?”

Francesca shook her hair off her shoulders. “There’s more to life than grapes, Brenna. No, it was something else.” She explained how she had come home unexpectedly and overheard their parents and grandparents talking in the library.

“Grammy M said the family is being punished by God,” she finished. “Dad said not a day goes by that he doesn’t think about him.”

“What him?” Katie asked. “What on earth are they talking about?”

“I don’t know.”

“It could be the feud,” Brenna said. “Maybe thirty years ago something bad happened with Wild Sea Vineyard and the Giovanni family.”

Katie thought about the family history. “How is that possible? The feud started in the late forties, right after the Second World War. Dad wasn’t even born then.”

“That’s right,” Francesca said. “Plus Grammy M was the one saying we were being punished, and she didn’t become a part of the family until Mom and Dad got married-which was what? Twenty-nine years ago?”

“But you said they said thirty years ago,” Brenna reminded Francesca. “Whatever it was happened thirty years ago.”

“What is it?” Katie asked. “What could anyone have done? There hasn’t even been the hint of a scandal. No whispers or rumors. I always thought we were boringly normal.” She turned to Francesca. “Could you have misunderstood?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

Katie looked at Brenna, who shrugged. They both seemed to be waiting for her to make a decision. She thought about the fund-raiser and the upcoming wedding. Not to mention the thousands of beads yet to be attached on Mia’s gown, and the mysterious redhead, and Katie’s confusing relationship with Zach.

“Let’s give it a few weeks and see if anything happens,” she said. “If not, we’ll bring it up at a family dinner.”

“Works for me,” Francesca said.

“Maybe the one celebrating my divorce from Jeff,” Brenna said. “Or the one where we tell the family how we convinced him to back off on the winery.”

Katie was surprised. “You’ve heard from him about that? The last I knew was that he was determined to pursue the inheritance angle, despite there not being one.”

Brenna and Francesca exchanged looks. Katie recognized the combination of guilt and excitement immediately. “All right, you two. What are you up to?”

“Nothing,” Francesca said, careful to avert her gaze.

Katie zeroed in on Brenna. “Spill it, now. Every word. Start at the beginning.”

Brenna sighed. “It’s no big deal. Jeff called to tell me that if I backed off on getting repaid for putting him through school, he’d let go of the inheritance. I told him to go screw himself. If that requires him cutting off certain body parts in the process, I don’t care.”

“We’re going to get back at him,” Francesca announced, then covered her mouth and looked horrified.

Katie groaned. “You’re what?”

“Nothing.” Brenna held up the bottle. “More wine?”

“No. I want the truth. What are you planning?”

“We’re trapping the bastard at his own game,” Brenna said gleefully. “Francesca’s going to meet with him. Play the mourning sister-in-law who completely understands why he left his bitchy wife.”

Katie was confused. “Why?”

Francesca leaned toward her. “He’s slime. I’m going to dress sexy, see if he comes on to me, and tape the whole thing.”

“Why would he come on to you?”

The twins exchanged a look. Brenna shrugged. “Jeff got drunk once and admitted that he’d always had a thing for Francesca. I didn’t think anything about it, except then I saw he was always kind of watching her.”

“I didn’t know,” Francesca admitted, “until Brenna told me.”

“But now she can use it against him. She’ll tape the conversation. When he’s trapped himself, we’ll threaten to send the tape to the bimbo. Either Jeff gets off the winery or his new girlfriend finds out he’s a real sleaze.”

Katie couldn’t believe it. “That’s illegal. Zach can’t know about this.”

“Of course not. Although I think he’ll be impressed when I tell him.”

Katie looked at her sisters. “You can’t be serious. This is wrong. It’s tacky and horrible and puts you on Jeff’s level.”

Brenna’s gaze narrowed. “That bastard is not getting one square inch of this winery, and by God he’s going to pay me what he owes me. Quit spoiling the fun, Katie.”

Katie held up her free hand. “Okay, I’ll admit that Jeff needs his comeuppance, but this is not the way to do it.”

“Do you have a better plan?”

“No, but have you thought this through? Won’t Jeff coming on to Francesca be another knife in your back? I love you and I want Jeff punished, but not if you’re going to get more hurt in the process. I refuse to rub salt in your wounds.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. This idea is brilliant and if you can’t see that, we don’t need you.”

Katie took another drink of wine, but her buzz was gone and in its place was a sense of something important having just been lost.

“You have a visitor,” Dora said through the speakerphone. “It’s your son.”

Zach dropped his pen and rose. “Send him right in,” he said, then headed for the door himself.

It had been nearly two weeks since their fight. His son had finally left a message that he was fine, but he’d said that he needed time to think about what had happened and would be in touch later. Apparently later was now.

David opened the door and stepped into the office. He wore baggy jeans and a worn sweatshirt. As usual, his blond hair needed cutting. He looked tall, lanky, and sheepish.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Hey, yourself.”

They stood about three feet apart, both looking at the other, both hesitating. Finally Zach moved toward David and held out his arms. His son stepped into his embrace.

The ache around Zach’s heart eased. Tension fled his body as his world righted itself. Maybe he’d screwed up a time or two, but all in all, David was the best part of his life.

He moved back enough to grasp David’s upper arms. “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “I didn’t mean to hurt you or to imply that you were anything but a joy for me. You were never in the way. Given the chance, I wouldn’t change anything. I love you. I hope you know that.”

David nodded. He ducked his head, sniffed, then swallowed. “Yeah, Dad. I know. I was kind of a jerk. You know? You got frustrated and I got mad and it seemed easier to split rather than figure out how to make it work. I’m sorry, too.”

“Apology accepted.”

Zach released him and they both headed for the sofas. David sprawled across one while Zach took the other.

“How’s school?” Zach asked.

“Good. The new quarter started. I got a letter saying I need to be thinking about declaring a major. Especially if I want to go into one of the impacted majors.”

“What are those?”

“The really popular ones. Classes fill up fast and it’s hard to get a good schedule. At least, that’s what the letter said.”

“Any more thoughts on what area interests you?” Zach asked the question carefully, wanting to appear interested without being pushy.

David slouched lower in the sofa. “Not really.”

He hesitated before asking, “How are things with Mia?”

“Good.” He looked at Zach and grinned. “Hell if I know why, but we can’t finish getting registered for our wedding gifts. Every time we go to pick out china or something, we have a big fight. I guess we’re gonna have to use paper plates.”

“I guess so.”

Zach wanted to say a lot more, but he didn’t. Bringing up Julie when he’d just made up with his son was a dumb plan. Eventually they’d have to talk about her and the importance of fidelity, but not yet.

His son’s humor faded. “Look, Dad. I know you’re worried about me and I appreciate that. But you’ve got to give me some space here. I need a chance to grow up. If that means making a mistake, then I’ll have to deal with it. But let me screw up before you start yelling at me.”

“I agree.” Zach took a deep breath. “Here’s the thing, David. I’m your father and I want to do everything in my power to protect you from the world. It’s like when you were first learning to walk. I went around the house and made sure there was nothing that could hurt you.”

“I’m not learning to walk, Dad. I’ve been walking for a long time.”

“I know. But the instinct is damn strong. So I have to bite my tongue to keep from telling you what I think will keep you from getting hurt. Sometimes I forgot that’s not my job anymore.”

“You can tell me,” David said. “Just so long as you don’t expect me to listen.”

His son grinned. Zach laughed. “As you get older, you’re supposed to think I’m smarter.”

“That’s never gonna happen, Dad. You need to let it go.”