Page 22 of Gone With the Wine

“Did you pass English?” he asks.

That makes me smile. And his lips are curved in what almost appears to be amusement, too. “Barely. I was more of a science girl.”

“Ah.”

As we meander the fair and end up sitting near the bandstand to listen to the group doing Fleetwood Mac covers, I think about Mrs. Gerstenmayer’s comment about selling the winery to Uncle Geno.

I know we were adamant when we found out that Nonna had left us the winery that we would run it ourselves. But realistically, both Allegra and I have lives far away from here. We were all emotional at the reading of the will but now that some time has passed, and not hearing anything from Allegra, maybe we really aren’t being practical about this.

Selling to Uncle Geno would definitely be an option.

I nibble my bottom lip as I turn that idea around in my mind. I could go back to Argentina. Allegra could stay wherever the hell she is right now. Rosa could—I don’t know, I’m sure she could get a job as an office manager at another winery near here, or go back to working at Belmonte. The family would all be happy.

Why didn’t we even consider that?

I need to talk to my sisters about it.

The musicians take a break.

“Should we go to the petting zoo?” Ana asks. “They have baby goats.”

“Oh my God, I love baby goats!” I jump to my feet. Then I see the expression on Jansen’s face. “What? What’s wrong with baby goats?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t tell me—petting animals isn’t your thing.”

“I feel like goats smell bad.”

A laugh shoots out of me. “Well, maybe.”

“Also goats are jerks.”

My mouth drops open and I gape at him. “Take that back!”

He blinks. “What? They are?”

“They’re adorable!”

“A goat headbutted me once,” Miles says.

“See?” Jansen lifts his eyebrows.

“I…I…can’t.” I stare at him. Someone who doesn’t like baby goats?

He shrugs. “I’ve never had much to do with farm animals.”

“City boy, huh?”

“Basically, yeah. Also too busy playing hockey.”

I frown.

“Didn’t you know Jansen used to play hockey?” Ana says.

I give her a perplexed look. “No. How would I know that? Also, what does that mean?”

“Hockey’s a sport played on ice where skaters try to score a goal with a stick and a puck.” Jansen’s face is deadpan.

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