Page 130 of Love Unforgettable
Chapter 45
Lexie
I get to the part in my speech where I can stay the course and end this speech in a few sentences. Or I can make a point while I have their attention.
“Winemaking is a combination of luck and skill. Skill comes from experience, of course, but it also comes from knowledge. Now, I’ve been growing grapes and making wine since I was nine years old. My parents nurtured this insane interest of mine in every way they could, and it’s just flourished from there. I also have my Bachelor of Science and Master of Science degrees in Viticulture and Enology. And, I was fortunate enough to be mentored by the late, and so very great, Stone Strassburg, three-time winner of this same award, who I think we all can agree was a true master of his craft.”
I begin clapping for Stone, and the audience joins me. Somehow, my speech has not gone down either path I’d originally intended. So, I’m interested to find out where I’m taking this, crazy as it sounds.
“I’m young for this field at twenty-nine years old. No doubt about it. And if you can believe it, there are people in this audience who don’t believe that twenty years of experience, six years of education, and five years of personal training from a master of this craft, is enough to qualify me for this award.”
I pause, and the audience predictably gasps.
“I don’t need to share who this person is, he knows what he did. Oops, well that narrows it by about twelve percent, doesn’t it?” Laughter floats through the room. I look at our table and see faces filled with love and support shining back at me, but it’s Cole’s face that stops me. The pure and unadulterated pride reflected there fills me with such confidence, such badassery, that I almost share Sawyer Grant’s name. Instead, I put out a plea to everyone in the room.
“We are in a unique industry. And it’s small, all things considered. What were the numbers? Seventy-seven hundred winemakers in the US? Not a large community. We should be one of support and cooperation, building one another up, not tearing down.” The audience applauses again. I pull my phone out of my clutch and pull up some numbers.
“I’m going to do some quick math here. According to the US Census Bureau, there are three hundred twenty-five million people in the US. Of that, twenty seven percent are over age twenty-one. And out of that number, fifty six percent drink alcohol on a regular basis. Maybe not all of them are wine drinkers, but I’ll bet most are. That gives us . . .”
“Forty-nine million,” Cole says loudly, clearly seeing where I’m going with this.
“Forty-nine million drinkers in the US. Which gives each winemaker . . .” I look to Cole this time. He smiles back. Then says, “About sixty-three hundred.”
“Sixty-three hundred drinkers per winemaker. Without going into it too much more, I’m going to say that it’s enough. There are enough wine drinkers out there for all of us. Can’t we embrace that ideology instead of tearing each other down?” Applause rings through the audience again. I can see where public speaking can be kind of addicting. It’s a total rush when people are clapping because of something you’ve done or said.
“I’m not going to lie, I’m proud as hell of myself for winning this award. I work my ass off making the best wine I can and to be recognized for that is life altering. But I guarantee that if another winemaker comes to me for guidance or counsel, I will take them in and teach them everything I know. And if they win this award, I will clap the loudest in that audience. Because that is the kind of environment I want to promote and work in. And with that, thank you to the judges for this incredible honor. Now I need to get back to work, ‘cause I plan to win this two or three more times in my career.” The audience starts to stand.
Holy shit. A standing ovation.
I step back from the podium as more people stand. Until it’s everyone standing and clapping. I begin to walk off the stage but turn back when I remember the other thing I wanted to say. I tap on the microphone once to make sure it’s still on. Then lean in and say, “Sorry, one last thing. Yes, Cole Mason, I will marry you.”
