Angeline's Way Read online

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  Six o'clock already

  I was just in the middle of a dream

  I was kissin' Valentino

  By a crystal blue Italian stream

  St. Helena Vineyards

  Angeline DeLucas was annoyed with that song. Every morning the Internet radio station would play the Bangles song with Susanna Hoff's voice blaring out the speakers to wake her up at 6 am. Wake up and walk to the bathroom for a shower. Get dressed. Apply a little makeup to show the world she was a woman, not that people didn’t notice. The morning routine had begun to drag on her as her vacation came closer. She wanted refreshment of life in the vineyard.

  The family vineyard at St. Helena was her heart and soul in life. While the brothers enjoyed the fruits of the wine shows, Angeline preferred the behind the scenes aspects of the wine life. Not that they were lazy about the family business. They were active in the promotions, the wine tours and, most importantly, with the distributors of the delicate grape they produced. Each sibling had added a taste to keeping St. Helena Vineyards fresh for new customers and clientele as well as old.

  She felt kinship to Jeannie Buss in her no-nonsense work ethic. Through the hard times, she battled with her bothers in making the right decision for the vineyard. They fought together when the big conglomerates were buying up family farms left and right. The Rot outbreak strained the family and friends alike. But unlike the Los Angeles Lakers executive, the family DeLucas always came to an agreement that worked for the better. For that the vineyard grew and the family relationships remained strong.

  Angeline felt old for being on planet Earth for twenty-eight years. Navigating the unpredictable shoals of the wine world while interfering of her love life grated her at times. The family agreed to a five year tenure for each member to head the vineyard. Nate barely made it through his tenure as the Recession hit in the middle of his time. Gabriel struggled at first but the vineyard hung on during the outbreak. She came into the position as the outbreak subsided and the lean years were finally over.

  She was at University at the time and nearly quit to take on her share. Only when the family was firmly against it the she did change her mind. When their Dad, then Mom, died the vineyard change from a happy place to a floating grief with a pall that hung over the busy season. The small company became mechanical as to their production. The season ending wine parties were nonexistent with their shared loss of family. They made it through that hard time and had an excellent year for the 700 acres they managed. A bottle of their death years were placed on the mantle above the chair with ceremony to them. With the mourning time passed, the vineyard once again picked up its blissful mood.

  Angeline’s love life was up and down with the season. Growing season was wild as the parties and tours met with opportunities to meet the different species of men. She was not ugly for being five foot nine inches. Her taste in clothes and other accessories were up with the current fashion. The maternal reddish-brown hair was short so as to not deal with washing sweaty long hair every day. Her lithe breasts and Italian heritage made her on several lists of beautiful bachelorettes of California.

  Very flattering but lists do not grow the grapes and the profits, she thought.

  Angeline's Office

  As Angeline was lost in her thoughts, Moniqa, her executive assistant and fun buddy, walked into the office. A couple years in age difference and wiser, Moniqa was Angeline's yin to her yang. When it came to work, it was business and pushing herself to succeed with her hard-working Malaysian heritage. But playtime was no-holds bar as the 5 foot 6 inch Southern Cali girl came out busting all over. That suited her brother's prerequisite for a person to bring Angeline some sort of life with a definite line that would not be crossed.

  "Okay," said Moniqa. "Your flight will be comfortable with a first class cubicle seating. Though you will be nine to ten hours ahead of us, the umbilical is attached. Internet and cell service is arranged on the ship so you can access us and have use of your computer. Your strapless black dress is packed for the formal night. The cruise ship has laundry facilities but I packed you light on clothes to get you to Barcelona. This is so you can take whatever you buy home without the extra baggage costs. I packed your luggage with your mentionable and unmentionables along with batteries. And I bought an electrical plug adapter online so you can charge your phone at the hotel, in case the American does not work."

  Angeline blushed at the "unmentionables" line. What she did on her time was for her alone. Moniqa and her did have a "get over the tension" weekend together. Two months into the job, they both felt something had to be done and they addressed it. After that, Angeline made it clear that that weekend never happened. Moniqa did take the rebuke to heart and it did not hurt the business relationship at all. She was a flirt but never crossed the line agreed upon with Angeline.

  "Your itinerary along with your passport is here. There is a stop in Croatia and Greece before you make port in Malta and Sicily. Then it's Rome, Florence, Marseille, and finally Barcelona. What does concern me is that the cruise line will take your passport upon check in."

  "Really?", Angeline exclaimed. "Why?"

  "The fine print does not say. The cruise line did not say other than you will get it back after Athens. You aren't crossing any borders when on the tours. Here is your debit charge card for fun and business you are not supposed to be doing on vacation," Moniqa finished.

  This was one of those times Angeline felt the tension of wanting to enjoy Moniqa's body again. Moniqa had the opportunity leave with her to Europe but family obligations constrained her from going. Both of her parents were active on the political front which made Moniqa their chief organizer when the elections ramped up. As her thoughts wandered into her mind, a gleeful Gabe DeLucas walked into the office.

  "Ah! The vacation girl is getting her final instructions," he exclaimed. "I have come over to warm the seat up for King Gabriel. Back on the Seat of Power again!"

  He winked at Angeline while Moniqa rolled her eyes at him.

  Gabe was in the hot seat while Angeline was off to Europe. He was picked over Nate for the substitution as being the last one to hold tenure. Secretly, he was scared that any one of a number of phantom fears a vineyard face. The Recession and Rot outbreak had weighed heavily on the family. They barely made it in one piece with the death of their parents, which was the hardest to overcome.

  "Very nice, Gabe. Make me more nervous. Don't worry about the 10-hour flight, nosy business men, or jet lag. Worry about King Gabriel," she snidely remarked.

  "SEC rules state you have to take time off at a two week minimum. A long Italian cruise and another week in Barcelona will satisfy all involved. Not my fault you waited three weeks before the end of the fiscal year. I'm just as nervous as you are that things do not go to hell while you are gone."

  " You well know The Rot was a worry time for us all. I am still amazed we fared well with the loss of the acreage those grapes represented. And I couldn't take a vacation in the middle of that," Angeline tersely pointed out to him.

  "And that is why on the cruise ports you need to relax a bit. You were the Wicked Witch of the West and the Hunchback all in one during that time. You don't think we were scared? I came in here to make sure things are in order while you were gone. Not to argue," he said flatly
.

  "Okay, Gabe. Chill a bit. It's pre-vacation jitters," Angeline said placating him. "My cruise itinerary should be on your planner and Moniqa's. Moniqa has my meeting arrangements over the next couple weeks with her. She is also monitoring my projects for the fun runs, bed and breakfast, and next year's projections of possibly expanding the label."

  "Yeah. How many locals signed up for the chance of people running around on their wash roads?"

  "We need at least two more for the set up. Excelsior, Monte Bon, and a few others are not sure of the use of having it. But in the end , we have to have the money and exposure to make it work for us all. The Rot affects are still with some of the vineyards. I am trying to help them out."

  "It takes money to make money, Angie. Maybe they don't have the budget money for an event like this," he pointed out. "Besides, there is a lot of old families around that do not like us. Nate and I do not see them coming around to your idea. We are still treading on thin ice with Monte Bon and Wellers after calling us on the Bakersfield deal."

  "I know," Angeline conceded, "but we still have three months for them to be a part of this. I don't want this to be a one-time only race." She wiped her eyes to relieve the stress and said to Moniqa, "As of now, I'm going back to the house and ready things for my trip. You have my cell if anything more comes up."

  Airport

  Moniqa drove Angeline to the airport the next morning. Going over the Altamont with the wind turbines snapping up wind and a wild avian in one gulp. When she arrived at the airport, it was going from one pod to the next that was killing her. Check in with security and then rechecking in each airport pod. Now in line with the rest of humanity, and wearing the wrong shoes, added to the wariness of Angeline's vacation.

  Why didn't I take a few shots of vodka before leaving?, she sighed.

  She settled into her cubicle on the plane, and with a quick glance around her, Angeline spotted three potentials. Of course, they were not going to Italy like she was but the thought enticed her to think so. One had a George Michael stubble growing on his face. As for the rest of him it looked as though he woke up late for his plane. The other gentleman had ring on his finger. She looked at the third bit closer and her jaw dropped. It was Mike Morgan from Excelsior Vineyards. What is he doing on this flight?

  Mike Morgan settled into his cubicle seat on the Delta plane. Too much was going on in his mind to notice Angeline. The Rot, as it was called due to the spoilage of wine grapes, never left his vineyard alone. The family business was slowly dying and it hurt him. At times he felt as if he was failing his grandfather and father for their energies invested in the wines produced. It cost him his wife and kids as he spent time controlling the damage. They knew the sacrifice of owning a vineyard. But spoilage disaster caused a drifting apart that they agreed to separate. Time out, as she called it.

  He was 35 years old. He had dark brown hair with a sunburned tanned complexion showed he loved the outdoors. With his body the work out of doors showed with his abs and strong muscles from reaching and carrying boxes of grapes throughout his life. Excelsior, like most vineyards, had been in the family for generations. The Depression and The Recession marked the hard times for the grape industry. And The Rot might be the finish of his family business and him along with it.

  Angeline was now determined to stay hidden from Mike. Not that he was bad looking. But the old superstition of bad luck passing from vineyard to vineyard by owners. She had heard how bad The Rot devastated his acreage and then his wife leaving him. The DeLucas' had their brushes and it was months before other vineyards acknowledged them. Such was life amongst the small vineyards of Napa Valley.

  She settled back in her cubicle with her drink secured. The take-off rattled Angeline as the vibration and feeling of the lift rushed into her body.

  Venice, Italy

  After 10 hours of flight time, and a two hour layover at Schiphol Airport in Amsterdam, Angeline finally arrived in Venice. Moniqa was a miser, with insisting on a hotel near the airport. She read that it would cost between €125-200 for a water taxi to carry her and her luggage. As nice as being on the Canal, staying a few nights cheaper and a €15 bus pass to see the sights turned out well.

  For all the wonderful pictures of Venice, navigation of the various islands were a nightmare to her. Even the map of Venice was of no use. The only thing that kept Angeline from screaming was knowing where the Grand Canal was in relation of the shops and bridges were. Crossing over a bridge was like entering a new room with crowded furniture. She did pay €80 for the obligatory Venetian gondola ride from a seasoned gondolier. Her feelings took a hit seeing tourists take pictures of her riding alone. Now she was a meme to loneliness for the world to see.

  Around 6 p.m. she decided she was hungry for authentic Italian food. At a restaurant with outdoor seating, Angeline waited for a waiter to come by to take her order as she sat down. While doing that, she puzzled over the map of Venice given to her by the hotel manager. She thought she was closer to the Canal but the map showed she was several islands over from it. She noticed the handsome man at the table next to her.

  With a muscling up for courage, she asked, "Excuse me, Sir. I am terribly lost and the map I was given makes no sense. I am trying to find the bus station to get back to it. Crossing the bridges and the small alleyways have me nowhere to be found. Can you show me where we are?"

  "Sure. We are here in the San Marcos district ," he said pointing to the map. " Up here is the Canal. First time in Venice?"

  "Yes it is," she said.

  "Don't worry about it. Everyone gets lost unless you are staying on the Canal. Always remember that you follow the W.C. and the Roma d'Plaza signs. They will let you out to the bus station," he said with a laugh.

  "W.C.?", Angeline asked.

  He leans over to her table and says in a whispering laugh, "Water closets. The public toilets. And in front of you is the Campanile of Santo Stefano. Otherwise known as the Leaning Tower of Venice."

  Angeline looked up to see the Tower. As the group of teenage Asian tourists were coming through the tunnel from another street, they began taking pictures as they saw it. As the soft wind blew, an accordion player sitting under the statue across the square played his instrument. She starts to feel a little uncomfortable being next to this stranger. The timing of all this began to feel like Lady and the Tramp.

  "My name is Angeline. From California," she says.

  "Guy. From Wales. Living here more permanently," he said with a smile. "You should try the Spritz drink. Very delicious."

  "Well, if the waiter or waitress decides to come for my order, I will."

  "Ha! So true. Well, you being American, you do not need to tip here in Italy. They add 12% to the bill no matter. You only add what you want. As for the service, you deal with it."

  " I will keep that in mind. The way it is now, I will be lucky to eat at all," she said. "What are you doing in Venice?"

  " Currently, waiting for the girlfriend to show up with her friends," he said off-handed.

  With that sentence, the conversation between them died. Guy's girlfriend showed up as the waitress took Angeline's order. She ate her dinner and drank her Spritz with an olive in silence. She followed his directions in following the Roma d'Plaza signs on the walls. Eventually she found her way to the bus stop and back to her room alone. Angeline opened a local bottle of wine she found in a small shop along the Canal. Pouring herself a cup of wine, she opened her suitcase.

  Hello, Friend. Are you lonely tonight? Me too.

  Trieste, Italy

  Angeline watched as the Italian countryside whizzed by her on the train. Villas and country homes looked beaten as though they were never repaired after the Second World War. Each had its own spot of land to grow their own food and lots for the vast grape vineyards. The skies were dotted with fast moving clouds and sprinkles of rain against the window. Each town she passed had its own spire or clock tower. She tried counting them as the train flew by and eventually gave u
p.

  Lots of green-blue Italian streams, she thought.

  As the train neared Trieste, it slowed down to allow the freight trains to pass. Looking out the window to the countryside, Angeline noticed a man riding on a bicycle. Her anxiety took over as she tried to hide her face and look out at the same time. She looked back to see the man's face as the trained pulled toward Trieste.

  It's Mike Morgan. Now he's on my cruise, I bet.

  Angeline's train pulled into the station south of the pier. Taxis were lined up for passengers to their destinations. She was excited about finally being in Trieste to start her cruise. With her collecting her luggage from the station, she got in line for her ride to the port terminal of the cruise ship Sea Dreams. Five minutes later she was looking at the fabulous Italian buildings that made up Trieste.

  She thought about crossing the border to Slovenia to see the rustic country but the city called for her. The tall mountains and redoubts that stood on them spoke to her. The red roofs of Trieste and the lighthouse at the edge of the Adriatic gave it a classic tourist look. It was a nice Italian town with its three moorings for the cruise ships to depart from.

  As she was starting to be wary of where the cab driver was taking her, they passed the same man riding the bicycle earlier in the morning. Looking back in the cab, Angeline got a more positive look. It was Mike Morgan trying to be Italian on his bike.

  Angeline walked around the port as her bags were distributed to the designated luggage area near the ship. She had a couple hours to kill with the amount of passengers being herded to the gates. Admiring the town, she walked to the lighthouse on the point across from the cruise ship. Lost in the beauty of the bay and mountains surrounding the town, Angeline closed her eyes to feel the cold sea wind against her body. She then opened them to the Adriatic and strained to see a pyramid-like building on top of a hill opposite of her. Then a voice from nowhere questioned, "Angeline DeLucas? Is that you?"