Page 27 of A Vintage of Regret
“Not the time for this.” Kelly interrupted her mother-in-law. Turning back toward Riley, she added, “We’ve just been going over the final plans for Dad’s celebration. We’ve postponed the ceremony to next week, but the date isn’t confirmed, yet. However, the florist is taken care of, and the vineyard is letting us use the west lawn, free of charge. We’re grateful for that.”
Riley’s gaze flicked to Grant. “Bryson’s winery?” Of all the things that had been discussed this morning, she was a little surprised by this revelation. Maybe the Boones thought she knew.
Grant stiffened. “It’s what Dad wanted. He specified it in his will. Though I’m not sure how I feel about that considering he died there.”
“It’s a beautiful location,” Kelly offered. “We thought it would be nice to keep things simple and intimate. Just family and a few of your father’s closest friends.”
“I still think the country club would be better. I’m sure we can all agree that the outdoor gardens there are spectacular. The food is the best in town,” her mother said. “Grant, that won’t be a problem, financially, will it?”
Riley clenched her hands in her lap. Her father wasn’t even buried yet, and her mother was trying to rewrite his final wishes to suit her own vision of what was appropriate. Her father had wanted to be remembered among the vines he’d cherished. He wanted simplicity, intimacy, and her mother was trying to turn his memorial into a social event.
“Not the point, mother.” Grant’s eyes narrowed to slits, his mouth pressing into a hard line. “Dad had some pretty specific wishes. I intend to honor them. Not to mention, Walter and Dad have been close since grade school, and wasn’t Walter in your wedding?”
“I just thought, with how you and Bryson are, that it would be better to have it somewhere else.” Her mother lowered her chin and sniffled.
Always the actress.
“This isn’t about me. Or Byson. It’s about Dad and doing what he’d want.”
Her mother swept one hand through the air while lifting the other to dab at her cheek.
“I’d like to help,” Riley said. “He was my dad, too.”
A heavy silence fell. Grant and Erin stole glances before shifting their gazes to their mother, who stared into her wine glass before taking a long, slow sip. Chad coughed. Or maybe it was a grunt.
“There’s not much left to do,” her mother said with a dismissive wave. “The details are in place. Decisions already made—even if I’m not on board with them.”
“There are a few things that haven’t been secured yet. And we needed to stay on top of the details. There are many ways you can help,” Erin offered.
“I know the last two days were tough on you with travel and stuff, but I sent you a long email about the plans,” Grant said. “The only things set in stone are the things Dad laid outin his will.” He met her gaze. “If there’s something you’d like to change, or want to add, let us know.”
“Thanks.” Riley felt a rush of unexpected gratitude toward her siblings. They were trying—really trying—to include her, to make up for years of distance. It was more consideration than she’d expected. But standing there in her mother’s dining room, she still felt like an outsider looking in, unsure of her place in the family she’d walked away from so long ago. “Whatever needs doing, I can help.”
“Right, because you’ve been around to help with anything for the last twelve years,” her mother said flatly. “You don’t get to just show up after over a decade and act like you know what your father would have wanted.”
“Elizabeth, that’s not fair. She’s always?—”
“Donotmake excuses for my daughter.” Her mother lifted her wine glass and took a long sip, glaring at her husband, before shifting it back to Riley. “You didn’t even come home for his birthday last year. Or the year before that. Or ever. When was the last time you even saw him?”
“Less than a year ago.” She stiffened her spine. “But I think you know that.” God, she hated her mother’s games. Everyone in this room knew about her trips with her father. But her mother preferred to perpetuate the concept that Riley had run off and never once looked back.
“Fighting isn’t getting us anywhere,” Grant said, running his fingers through his hair. “Riley’s here, and we all know Dad would want her to be a part of this. Erin and I, despite our differences, want her to be involved. He was our father.”
Wow. Grant had never stood up for her, except for maybe when a bully had picked on her at school. And that hadn’t happened often.
“You don’t know the first thing about him, or any of us. You disappeared because you thought we were beneath you. Thatthis town was beneath you.” Her mother’s conviction was as sharp as her nails.
Riley clenched her fists. “You don’t have the first clue as to why I left, and that has nothing to do with Dad’s funeral plans. I’m here now. Dad would want all of us to get along. For him,” Riley snapped, the heat rising fast.
“What do you know about getting along. Every time I call, you’re usually too busy or start a fight.” Her mother reached for the bottle and topped off her glass.
“That’s not true,” Riley said.
“Please, Mom,” Erin whispered. “This isn’t about you or the past. It’s about Dad.”
“Since when do you take… oh, never mind. Your little sister is always working on half-truths and even fewer facts,” her mother said.
Riley took a breath. “Fine. But let’s not rewrite history.”
