Page 75 of Reclaimed Dreams

Chapter23

1 year ago

Jo kept gasping for breath every time Frankie and Dom escorted her into a new room. She saw the perfect blend of Sofia’s style and Frankie’s craftsmanship. As they moved from room to room—complete with camera setups and makeup retouches as she couldn’t seem to stop crying—Jo tried and tried to picture her family in these rooms. The great room was stunning, but she couldn’t quite picture a Christmas here. The back bedrooms would be great for guests, but not for her grandchildren. She wanted them to pile into the beds their parents had slept in. The bathrooms were stunning, but none of them had the soaker tub with the perfect built-in tile ledge for her wineglass, like the one Dom had designed for their private bathroom at home.

The kitchen was tempting. She could create some amazing meals in that professional kitchen, and the wine cellar cleverly concealed beneath the kitchen island was icing on the cake. But she couldn’t picture sneaking in for a midnight snack or making cookies with Daisy.

The public areas, like the tasting room and the bar, made complete sense if they were going to make their own wine. However, Jo knew many things about drinking wine but absolutely zero things about how to make it herself. Her mind reeled with all of the details, but she hoped she was putting on a good show for the folks at home who’d been following this renovation.

It truly was a beautiful space, and she was proud of all that her children had created. But it wasn’t hers. Her home was the house an hour north that contained all her memories and dreams, her laughter and tears. She didn’t want to leave that all behind. She didn’t want to start over, making this new place feel like home.

Outside, the terraced decks were both functional and beautifully designed. Enzo’s signature style showed off the beauty of the surrounding landscape while giving the viewer a taste of comfort and class.

Looking out over the vines that had survived the fire, she could understand why Dom had wanted this. The outdoor areas for entertainment were just screaming for a party. The genius of Enzo’s landscaping design ran right up to the charred remains of the barn, bringing home the reality of the fire that had come too close for comfort. Jo flashed back to her baby lying in a hospital bed and pulled her in for a tight hug, just to reassure herself that Frankie was indeed fine.

By the end of the day, Jo was exhausted. After a full morning of filming, followed by a late afternoon wrap party where she’d personally thanked everyone involved, she had earned the glass of wine in her hand and five quiet minutes on the deck.

Gathering her thoughts today was harder than usual. Every time she thought she had them pinned down, they skittered off in new directions. Three minutes into the five she’d allotted herself, Dom slipped out the back door and joined her at the railing. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and she wrapped hers around his waist. The sun sat low on the horizon, half concealed by the mountains along the edge of the property. The evening air began to chill and so did her happiness.

“Domenico Valenti, what have you gone and done this time?” she asked quietly.

Dom sighed into her hair as he brought his head down to hers. “You don’t like it.”

“That’s not what I said and not what I meant. Don’t you twist my words.”

Jo heard his deep breath, felt it as his chest rose and fell beside her cheek.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. When I started, I was trying to give you what you wanted.”

“And did you at any point think to bring me into the conversation?”

“You, ah, weren’t exactly speaking to me, so I relied on a dated blueprint and a flawed understanding of local codes.”

“Local codes?”

“Yeah, you know, like how it goes in your books. Guy and girl meet, fall in love, he screws up, and does this grand gesture to make it up to her.”

“How do you know what happens in my books?”

“How many years have we been married? You’ve read a lot of books. And when you get excited about them, I listen. I even read a couple.”

“And took notes, apparently.” The vineyard began to make a little more sense to Jo. It was a plot twist straight out of a Harlequin Presents. “Dom, what’s this really all about?”

“That’s a story I’m still figuring out myself, so it might take a while to tell. You need more wine?”

She shook her head, and he led her over to the beautiful Adirondack chairs Seth and Nick had made out of wine barrels. He lit the firepit and settled back into the chair, and Jo tamped down on the urge to climb into her place on his lap. If she did that, she’d never hear this story. So instead she settled for the chair next to his and wrapped herself in the decorative throw Sofia had no doubt artfully arranged just so. With the darkness falling quickly, the fire created a little cocoon of light around them, giving the illusion that they were completely alone.

“When Gabe died… I… I lost my way a bit. You seemed so fragile, and I wanted to protect you. I needed to prove I could protect someone I loved. So I tried to take things off your plate, so you didn’t have so much to worry about.”

“I never asked you to do that.”

“No, no, you didn’t. And watching you handle Frankie in the hospital, I realized I hadn’t given you enough credit. But at the time, the idea that I was protecting you let me rationalize cutting you out.”

Jo gasped. Hearing him admit out loud what she’d believed for so long physically hurt.

“Jo, when Gabe died, I was reeling. I…I excluded you and the kids from so many decisions, especially about the show, because I needed to feel like I could control something, anything. And I’m sorry.”

“Dom, where is all this coming from? Why couldn’t you have told me back then and saved us all this heartache?”

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