Page 82 of Shine For Me

Fox

I’m not sure if I should be worried about June. Her mood has been all over the place today. First there was that shit with Alex on the jet—which I am still pissed about. But June seemed to brighten considerably after they talked and she was smiling all through lunch with her mom. And it was her real smile, not the camera-ready one she gives everyone else.

But that changed by the time we met up to go to the first vineyard tour. I don’t know what she discussed with her mom while we were settling in at the villa down the hill, but she seemed tense and quiet again when she met us an hour later. Now we’re at our second winery of the day and she’s back to being happy.

Maybe her improved mood has something to do with all the wine we’ve consumed today. I’ve honestly never given much thought to wine—I tend to be more of a beer guy. I had no idea there were so many different varieties or that people got so worked up over every little detail.

So the tours and the tastings have been pretty eye-opening to me. The tour at the first vineyard took us walking out amongst the vines while the guide explained the different kinds of grapes. We got to see the processing area and then they brought us down into the cellar to see endless rows of barrels and bottle after bottle of wine.

Then we went up to the tasting room to have our first samples. At first I struggled not to roll my eyes when our guide talked about aroma and bouquet, but after the first few sips, I could start to understand what they were saying. Once I took the time to notice, I discovered there were layers to the wine, different flavors hitting my senses. June seemed completely in her element, asking the guide lots of detailed questions I could barely follow.

I guess it makes sense, considering her Mom and brother own a winery. But it still catches me off guard—another reminder that she has this entire side of her life that she never told me about. I have no idea if she spent a lot of time at Hilltop when she was growing up—I don’t even know when her mom got the place.

But I try not to dwell on those unsettling thoughts when we get to the second vineyard because June seems really happy. She’s a little bit tipsy, her smiles slow and languid, and she keeps tilting her face up toward the sun with her eyes closed. I like seeing her like this, all relaxed and at ease. I wish there was a way for me to bottle this feeling for her, so she could take it home to LA as a shield against all the stress in her life.

We see the areas available for weddings but skip the tour of the vines at the second winery, going straight to the on-site restaurant, where our tasting is combined with dinner. “This is more of a pairing,” June explains to Everly, who’s been hanging on her every word since we got to the first site. “They’ll bring out different wines chosen specifically to complement each course.”

“That seems like a lot of trouble for grape juice,” Will mutters, and Eva smacks his arm. Apparently, he didn’t get quite as much out of the last tasting as I did.

June just laughs. “Different wines really do go better with different types of food,” she says. “You’ll see.”

Once we’re seated, the chef himself comes out to welcome us and explain the menu. I’m a little worried this place is going to be too fancy for my family. We’ve never really been into the gourmet food scene. But Everly seems really impressed by the chef’s appearance.

“Do they do pairings like this for weddings, too?” she asks June.

“I’m sure they’ll do just about anything if you pay enough for it,” June laughs.

That makes me wonder what she paid for us to have this meal. I notice that the chef doesn’t come out to greet any other tables. Everyone else here seems to be ordering from the menu, rather than having something specifically chosen for them by the chef. I’ve eaten at enough fancy restaurants since my acting career started to know that a place like this wouldn’t come cheap.

My concern grows when Bodhi asks June what she has planned for tomorrow. “I thought we could get brunch at this place I know just outside of town,” she says eagerly. “They have the best macadamia nut pancakes you’ll ever taste in your life. After that, I booked us seats on the wine train—”

“Wine train,” River calls, raising his glass in a toast no one else participates in. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

June has heard enough of his tipsy outbursts today to know to ignore him. “Then we’re going to take a hot air balloon tour.”

“Wait, seriously?” Rose asks, gaping down the table at her. “Hot air balloons?”

“Yes,” June says eagerly. “They’re really popular around here. There’s a huge festival in the fall but you can book rides all year long. I’ve heard it’s the best way to see the landscape around here.”

“Holy crap, June,” Eva says, shaking her head. “You’re going all out on this trip.”

A look of concern replaces June’s eagerness in an instant. “Is it too much? Because we can just relax back at the villa or—”

“It’s not too much!” Everly cries, looking so excited she might bounce out of her chair. But that’s pretty typical for Everly, honestly. “I’ve never been in a hot air balloon! Or on a wine train! This is amazing!”

“Definitely amazing,” Rose agrees. “But I hope you don’t feel like you need to keep us entertained this whole weekend.”

From the way June is fidgeting, I can tell that’s exactly what she thinks. She smiles at my sister. “I just want everyone to have a good time.”

“Well, a freaking hot air balloon ride sounds like a good time to me,” Everly says. Then the waiters arrive with our first course—and several bottles of wine—and everyone’s attention shifts to the food.

I didn’t need to worry about the food being too fancy for the Ransomes. We feast on seafood, risotto, and tender rare beef, every dish perfectly paired with some of the best wine I’ve ever tasted. They practically have to roll us out of the restaurant after dessert. My siblings and cousins are full and happy when we climb into the vans at the end of the night. June looks happy, too, whatever tension that might have happened between her and her mom earlier a distant memory.

My older brother pauses when we get to the vans, giving the vehicle a quizzical look. “What’s the matter?” I ask him.

“I think my feet stopped working,” he says. “I can’t remember how to like, lift them.”

“Oh Jesus,” Rose mutters as Jasmine dissolves into giggles.