Remi parked the SUV and shut off the engine. She hopped out and lifted the hatch. She looked around at the beautiful grounds of the vacation home that she and Gerard had purchased three summers ago. She glanced at the vineyard that belonged to Paloma and her family. Paloma was a godsend; a friend Remi had made during that first summer in Napa Valley. She looked after the house whenever Remi and Gerard were back in New Orleans. She lived on her family’s land and owned the building between them—the one that once housed a thriving winery, before illness had forced her to close its doors. She had always hoped that Remi and Gerard would buy the old space, restore it, and make it their own. A fresh start for the place she could no longer run. And she would be there, by their side, ready to help them bring it back to life—a silent partner of sorts, but one who expected nothing in return.
“That’s it over there—the winery,” she said, pointing at the old structure just across the path, nestled between Paloma’s estate and their own.
Remi had, in fact, made the purchase, with an online signature and funds from the investor and her own investment. With Paloma’s dependable support, transformation of the building had already begun. Contractors were hired, plans were drawn, and the early signs of possibility were already taking shape. Next on the list was the maze of licensing, which she would handle as soon as she was settled. She knew it wouldn’t be easy, but for the first time in a long time, Remi felt ready for it all.
“Joie’s future home.” Bianca grinned widely. “That’s so cool. Let’s go check it out.”
Before Remi could say anything more, Bianca headed toward the building.
“Wait! Let’s drop our bags first and …”
Bianca kept walking, looked back at Remi, and removed her sunglasses. “Come on, let’s see this wonderful dream of yours.”
Remi hesitated for a moment before following, the gravel crunching beneath her feet as she trailed after Bianca. The sun was beginning to set, casting long golden stripes across the rows of grapevines. A warm breeze rustled the leaves a bit, carrying with it the faint scent of fermented grapes.
Remi caught up, whispered to herself, “This woman.”
Joie. She had said the name a thousand times in her head before it ever landed on paper—before she even shared it with Gerard. It was French for joy. She had no idea how much the name would come to mean to her now. It started as joy in the bright obvious sense, with the balloons, laughter, and champagne flutes raised. But now, after everything in her life had changed, she saw it as the kind of joy that she needed to grow out of pain and the struggle to keep going. It was the kind of joy that she needed to teach her how to breathe again, even as her lungs still ached from losing Gerard.
Bianca reached the old structure first and pulled the door open, peering inside.
“It smells like your wildest dreams coming to life, girlfriend,” she called back, grinning. “This place is already beautiful. It’s a really good structure.”
“Yes, it was once a thriving winery. Just needs a little TLC.”
Remi smiled hesitantly, her mind a jumble of doubts as she stepped into the cool dimness of the place. Had she made the right decision? She glanced around the old space. Studied the rawness of it, the weathered stone, the history in the walls.There was beauty here, a sense of potential, not yet shaped by her vision—but it would be. She had dreamed of blending contemporary with rustic, new with old, youth with wisdom. The interior was rough—exposed beams, an old stone fireplace in the corner. There was light too. Huge windows framed the vineyard like a painting.
“You see the vision, don’t you?” she asked Bianca softly.
“I do. I really do.” Bianca turned to her.
They stood in silence for a moment, allowing the vision to fill the room around them—the tasting bar here, a gallery wall there. Maybe some live jazz on the weekends. Poetry readings on Thursday nights.
Remi walked to the center of the space and turned in a slow circle. “I thought of giving up on it. I almost did. Still not completely sure of my decision.”
“Well, you’d better get sure! You’ve made the purchase and the contractors are here.” Bianca giggled.
She nodded in agreement, but her mind was still hesitant. “Let’s go,” she told Bianca and headed out the door.
She pulled her hard-shell suitcase out of the SUV, wheeled it into the house, and left it in the entryway. She removed her sunglasses and looked around, taking it all in.
“Oh, how I’ve missed this place.” Remi breathed deeply.
With buffed hardwood floors and the smell of lemon and jasmine trickling through the place, a light breeze blowing through the open kitchen window, she knew that Paloma had been here recently. Remi led the way through the house, taking in the sweeping views of Napa Valley, Mt. George, and the San Pablo Bay from the expansive windows. She peeked at the formal living area, with its cozy fireplace and made her way to the dining room, the large antique table with its wooden double pedestal. They entered the sun-drenched kitchen with the large marble-top island, stainless steel appliances, and a large, walk-in pantry.
“I love this kitchen,” Bianca said, and then walked over to the sliding glass door and peeked at the porch that was just off the kitchen. She pointed outside. “That’s where I’ll be having my coffee in the morning.”
“I knew you would love this kitchen. Gerard loved it too.” Remi grabbed Bianca by the elbow. “Let me show you the wine cellar.”
“There’s a wine cellar?” Bianca paused, hand on her hip. “In this house?”
“Yes. It’s small, but so perfect,” Remi said. “Being the wine lover that I am, you know I had to have somewhere to store my best finds.”
They entered the den with views of the vineyard and a walk-in wine cellar. Remi grabbed a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc from its compartment.
“We’ll have this with dinner.”
Just as they made their way back to the kitchen, Paloma entered, interrupting them. “Hello, Remi. I thought I saw you pull up.”