“That is so cool.”

“My grandparents really wanted my folks to have a boy, but I kind of like that it’s only girls.”

Kelly’s expression turned wistful. “I would have liked a sister, but there was no way Tanya would ever get pregnant again. I was an accident.” She picked up another slice of bread. “She used to say a mistake. She said that nothing was worth feeling sick and being fat. Plus I guess labor is really bad. You didn’t have any kids, huh?”

Too much information, Francesca thought. “Todd and I wanted to wait a couple of years to start our family.”

“And then he was gone. Bummer.” Kelly eyed her. “Are you going to marry my dad?”

“No.”

She started to say they were just friends, but then she remembered Kelly’s definition of the word. While it described her relationship with Sam very well, she was uncomfortable with a twelve-year-old assuming she and Sam were having sex.

“He’s rich,” Kelly informed her. “Tanya always said that was the most important quality a man could have.”

“Not to me.”

Kelly snorted. “Oh, please. You drive an old truck and wear cheap clothes. Why wouldn’t you want someone with plenty of cash?”

Francesca bristled, then reminded herself Kelly was pushing back to get a reaction. “I’m in graduate school. Being poor comes with the territory.”

“That’s like college, right?”

“Yes. I have a bachelor’s degree. That took four years. Now I’m in a program for my master’s and my Ph.D.”

“What about your parents? Why aren’t they paying for stuff?”

“Because I don’t want them to. Going back to college was my decision. I want to pay my way.”

Kelly looked genuinely shocked. “Why?”

“Because it gives me a sense of accomplishment. I want to be independent. This decision is about who I am as a person.”

“You’re stupid,” Kelly muttered as her soup arrived. She picked up her spoon.

“Why do you dance?” Francesca asked, ignoring the “stupid” remark. “It’s a lot of hard work. You sweat, you get sore. No one pays you. You might be able to have a career as a dancer, but what if you don’t? You’ll have put in years of hard work, and what will you have to show for it?”

“That’s different.”

“Actually, it’s pretty much the same. We both have long-term goals that require a lot of us.”

“Yeah, but I expect Sam or Tanya to pay for it.”

“That may change as you get older.”

“No way.”

Kelly ate her soup. After a couple of minutes she said, “What are you studying?”

“Psychology.”

“Oh, perfect. So you’re going to tell my dad everything you think is wrong with me.”

“Probably.”

Kelly’s green eyes narrowed. “I’m very smart.”

“I know. You’re also resourceful, independent, and self-motivated.”

Kelly started to smile.

“Unfortunately, you have no sense of community, you don’t seem to care about anyone but yourself, and you have no respect for authority or rules.”

The smile faded.

Francesca shrugged. “It’s okay, Kelly. We all have flaws.”

The girl looked at her. “I don’t care what you think.”

“I’m sure that’s true. So what do you want to do this afternoon? I was thinking we could go shopping and get you a few things to tide you over until your belongings arrive.”

Kelly glanced at Francesca’s sundress and shook her head. “No, thanks. I don’t like bargain shopping.”

Did the kid know how to lob the insults or what? Francesca sipped her iced tea. “No problem. I’d thought going to a movie after shopping would be fun, but if you’re not interested, we’ll just go back to the house.”

Kelly dropped her spoon and glared, but didn’t speak. Francesca could feel her outrage. Sam’s daughter didn’t like being maneuvered into a corner, but Francesca didn’t know any other way to teach her lessons about courtesy. If Kelly wanted to blow everyone off, that was her business. But it was going to cost her things like movies and trips to the beach. With a little luck, and time, she would see the value of being more gracious.

Of course, Francesca could be wrong about all of this. Underneath the angry, hostile teen facade might be a really unpleasant kid. She hoped not, for Sam’s sake. And for Kelly’s.

“I come bearing Italian food,” Brenna said as she stepped into Francesca’s small apartment. “More important, I brought wine.”

Francesca took the offered bottles and carried them into the kitchen. “Good. I need a drink. I was getting so desperate, I was about to go to the grocery store and buy a bottle of something.” She looked at the chilled bottles of Marcelli Reserve Chardonnay. “This is much better.”

Brenna set a large Styrofoam container on the counter and pulled off the top. She wore her short dark hair pulled back with a headband. A loose shirt hung to mid-thigh, nearly covering her cutoff jean shorts.

“School giving you trouble?”

“I would have to have actually started my dissertation for it to be a problem. Right now it’s just nothing.”

Brenna pulled out foil-wrapped plates. “Chicken Marsala, roasted potatoes with red and yellow peppers, and green beans with almonds à la Grammy M.”

Francesca’s stomach growled. “Thanks for calling and suggesting this. I could use some company.”

“You could have come to the hacienda for dinner.”

Francesca shook her head. “That’s not the kind of company I need. Besides, you sounded like you were looking for an escape.”

“I was.” Brenna carried the serving dishes to the table, then dug around for a corkscrew.

Francesca grabbed plates, napkins, and flatware. When the table was set, she collected a wineglass for each of them, then pulled out a chair.

“Grandpa Lorenzo is making me crazy,” Brenna said as she poured the wine. “I’ve heard several rumors about him selling the winery. A couple of our neighbors have talked to me about it. I’d already asked him once, and I thought we had things settled. But with all the talk, I had to ask him again.”

“And?” Francesca asked as she slid a golden brown chicken breast onto her plate.

“And he says he’s considering selling.”

Francesca froze. She met her sister’s troubled gaze. “That’s not possible. Marcelli Wines is family.”

“That’s what I said.” She scooped a spoonful of green beans onto her plate. “We’re talking nearly seventy years of tradition. I just…” Brenna picked up her wineglass and took a long drink. “Damn him. He’s saying he has to sell because he can’t depend on me to stick around. For the first eighteen years of my life, all I heard was that I had to find a man, get married, and have babies. I married Jeff right on schedule. Like I was supposed to. And now our grandfather is complaining.”

Francesca felt her twin’s pain. “It’s unfair. If you’d stayed, he would have complained about that, too.”

“I know. The thing is, I’m back. I’ve learned my lesson about men. Since Jeff and I split up, I’ve buried myself in work. Within two days I realized I shouldn’t have left. There’s nothing I love more than the vineyards and making wine. That’s all I want to do. If he sells…”

Brenna angrily cut off a piece of chicken and shoved it in her mouth.

“Have you talked to him about this?” Francesca asked, even though she already knew the answer.

Brenna shook her head. “Do you think it would help?”

“I don’t know. If he understood how much you cared, it might make a difference.”

“He’s not going to listen. He only wants things his way.”

Francesca knew that was true. Her grandfather ruled the family with an iron fist. Make that an iron fist from the nineteenth century. His outdated rules and ideas about family life meant anyone disagreeing with him could be tossed out at a moment’s notice. The exiles were usually temporary, but still painful.

“I have so many ideas,” Brenna told her. “There are these wonderful Pinot grapes coming up for sale. I desperately want to buy them, but he won’t listen. Worse, the land could be going on the market. I’d kill for that.”

Francesca might be floating just above the poverty level because of her studies, but Brenna’s precarious financial situation was thanks to spending the past nine years supporting her soon-to-be ex-husband through his medical training. Once established as an up-and-coming cardiologist, Jeff had dumped his wife for a newer, younger model.

“What about the divorce settlement? Can’t you use that money to buy the grapes?” she asked as she bit into a piece of the chicken and tried not to moan. As usual, the Grands had created something delicious, tender, and addictive.

Brenna shrugged. “It would help, but then what? I’d have grapes and no way to process them. Renting equipment and space. Jeez, Francesca, we’re talking hundreds of thousands of dollars. I don’t know.”

She poked at the grilled potatoes on her plate. “Okay. I’ve been whining long enough. What’s going on with you? I called last night and you were out. Give me good news. Tell me you’ve met a fabulous new guy and you were having hot monkey sex for hours and hours.” She laughed. “On second thought, I might find that information a little depressing.”

Francesca pushed a few green beans around her plate. “Funny you should say that,” she told her sister.

Brenna’s mouth dropped open. “No way.”

“Way. Sort of.”

Brenna laughed, then raised her glass. “Good for you, girlfriend. I can’t believe you had sex. Are you sure? Were you all naked?”

“As there were only two of us in the room at the time, I’m pretty sure I can remember that part. Yes, we were naked.”

Brenna hooted. “This is so cool. Okay, start at the beginning. How did you meet? Who is this guy, and what on earth made you give up your quest for nunhood?”

Francesca told her about her experiment, and Sam’s rescue.

“I’m thrilled that you found someone willing to rescue helpless pregnant women, but slightly put off by him asking you out while you looked like that.”