The past week dragged on yet flew by. Isn’t it strange how that happens sometimes? Just as strange is how the more I research about owning a vineyard and opening a winery, the less scared I am of the unknown and the more confident I am that the leap of faith is right for me. Now, I’m at Flora’s store opening, experiencing a prime example of taking a chance on yourself.
So, have Christian and I spoken more about the topic, you ask? Not exactly. I doubt he thinks I’ll stick to my desire, because I’ve been silent about it, but I’m not letting it go. I can’t. The tension and arguing is something I can let go and what I try to avoid most of the time, but increasingly, my limit is broken. Coming over here to Venice Beach tonight, we had to drive separately because of my late teaching schedule. What a waste of gas, but I have to admit, the lack of awkwardness was a welcomed break. I knew I’d have peace.
“There are my girls.” Dad grabs both of us and mushes us together in a tight hug.
“Hi, Dad,” we both say in mumbled unison while our faces join his chest.
“Congratulations to you, Flora.” Dad looks around the surf shop. “This is something you built here.” His eyes gleam as he nods.
“Thanks. I’m really proud of it. And I can catch a wave before work without having to commute afterward.”
Mom comes over to us and repeats the congrats then asks, “Where’s Christian?”
“Yeah, where’s that hubs of yours, Toni?” Flora echoes.
“He’s almost here. He just texted that he’s finding parking.” Is it bad that I wish he couldn’t find a spot and it were just me tonight?
“Mom, Dad, let me introduce you to Ben and his friend Mary.” Flora looks behind her to spot them.
“Yes, we’ve heard so much about Ben all these years. Where did you meet again?” Mom asks.
“At the LA Pride parade, the first year I came out.” Flora’s smile can’t grow any larger.
“Yes, that’s right.” Mom smiles in return, hazel eyes shining in the store overhead lights.
“Oh, be right back,” Flora says while slipping away.
“So, Toni, what’s new?” Dad lifts his eyebrows in anticipation, almost as if he knows something really is new in my life.
“Nothing much. Same old at school and the other jobs. I’m helping one student prepare a couple songs for a Christmas event, so that’s fun.” I hope I’m convincing.
“That’s nice. They have a great teacher in you.”
His heartfelt comment both captures and tortures me.
“Mom,” Flora cuts in upon returning, “This is Ben and Mary. They’re here from New Orleans.”
“Hi, Viola. Hello, Carmine,” Ben starts the exchange.
“Ben, call them Mr. and Mrs. Agosti. That’s what we Italian Americans do.” Mary looks at Ben then over at my parents.
“No need for such formalities on this coast, dears,” Mom responds. “But how kind of you.” She reaches over to shake both of their hands.
“You’re a paisan, huh?” Dad directs his attention to Mary.
“That’s right, Mr…” She pauses. “Carmine.”
“It’s wonderful you could both come,” Dad says.
“Ever since I came to LA for the first time and met Flora, it’s felt like a second home.” Ben hip-bumps Flora.
“That’s how our family rolls,” she replies. “I’m glad we both went to Pride that year.”
Christian walks through the door and, after hugging the family, is also introduced to our visitors.
“Bro, do you want me to get you a drink?” Flora offers.
“It’s your night, so I’ll get it myself, but thanks. What about for you? Anyone else?” Christian smooths his green plaid button-down shirt in the front and then glances around the circle. “I may need help, though.”
“I got you,” I respond. “I can use a refresh.”
“All good here, but thanks,” Ben adds.
“Same.” Mary holds up her drink.
“We’re fine.” Mom and Dad peek at each other and soundlessly agree.
After the high number of years of marriage, my parents must have a mindreading code. That would be amazing to have with someone.
Walking to the bar with Christian, I notice my sister from a new angle. “Look at how happy Flora is tonight.” My body radiates with absorbed excitement from her buzzing around her new store.
“Yeah, it’s great to see it. She can finally hang ten, dude.” Christian laughs.
“Yes. And I love how my parents support her on this new adventure.” Saying that out loud reassures me.
Without missing a beat, Christian clears his throat. “She didn’t devote her life to one cause then abandon it on a whim.”
“Don’t do this here,” I hiss.
“I’m stating the obvious. Your parents aren’t happy for her to have to depend on herself for a living wage, but believe me, it’s nothing like they’ll be if you tell them you’re leaving your profession for one you know nada about, Toni.”
“What’s that?” Flora appears behind us.
“Nothing.” My smile wouldn’t convince any breathing human, but the last thing I want to do is announce my news tonight, on Flora’s special night.
“Something,” she replies.
“Toni, are you embarrassed about your idea? Can’t even tell your sister?” Christian nags.
I shoot him a deadly glare and enunciate in staccato intensity, “Chris-tian, do not con-tin-ue this right now.”
“Sis, no worries. Just tell me.” Flora’s lightness sheds much-needed white in the dark abyss of my chest.
“I shouldn’t be talking about me right now, but since you insist, I want to open a winery.”
Her eyes burst open, more alive than seconds ago when already in beachside delight. “What a great idea!”
“What?!” Christian doesn’t hold back.
Flora looks at him with a puzzled expression. “You gotta chase your dreams, buddy. We only have one life to live on this planet.”
“I thought you’d see through this ridiculous idea of your sister’s, but I guess it’s just me.”
He sounds like the last player chosen in a schoolyard game, head dipped and hands moving into his jeans pockets.
“I’m offended that you think it’s ridiculous, Christian.” Standing up for myself against his attacking comments feels right. New, weird, and scary, but right every time I try.
“What’s ridiculous?” Dad emerges, holding hands with Mom.
Can this get any worse?
“I, I…” I pause to gather my racing thoughts. “I’m looking into opening a winery. You know, to bring back the old family business from the grave. And have a vineyard, just like Pietro had here in LA.”
“Oh, um…” Dad trails off in thought.
“Toni, you’re an accomplished cellist.” Mom’s shocked face is exactly as I expected. “What about all the work you’ve done since you were seven years old? That little starter cello and you were inseparable. Remember how you’d rather practice than do anything else? I couldn’t even get you to play with Flora sometimes. All you wanted to do was rehearse.”
“Come on, I don’t want to get into this here. It’s Flora’s night. We can talk about it another time,” I plead.
Dad remains quiet, but his drooping face tells all.
Christian looks as though he’s watching a show for entertainment, leaning on the bar where we still haven’t ordered because of yet another detour, removed from the family discussion and grinning.
You can eat your popcorn now, Christian, but wait until the bottom of the bag. My favorite line in the song “Closing Time” states an end brings a new beginning. And Semisonic speaks the truth about my dying career.