“Does she know all of this?”
His brow rises with surprise as though the thought of telling her never occurred to him.
“I think…we can handle the truth, Dad. All of us.” I give him a meaningful stare and, after a moment, he nods with understanding.
“Well, now you know everything, at least,” he says. “I think I…I need a moment to myself, if you don’t mind.”
I look to Enrique and he wordlessly nods.
We stand up, hand in hand and walk out. I lead him outside to the huge backyard where the pool is.
“How are you?” I ask.
Enrique stares up at the intense, summer California sun. “I feel surprisingly…satisfied.”
I stare blankly out at the pool. “So do I.”
Our eyes fall to one another and we laugh a little.
“At least I have something to tell my grandfather about my mother. He should at least be proud she died trying to save me.”
“I think fathers are proud of their daughters no matter what. At least I hope so.”
Enrique chuckles and squeezes my hand. “Something to keep in mind for later.”
I twist my lips with an embarrassed smile.
“So, what now?” he asks.
It can be interpreted a number of ways, I suppose. But I’m hungry, so I pick that one.
“Now, I get to introduce you to the food of my people. We’ll start with In-n-Out hamburgers and animal style fries.”
“Animal style fries?”
“Trust me, it’s worth it.”
“Okay,” he says with a grin. “But I was speaking more...futuristically.”
“Is that even a word?”
“Interpret as you wish,” he says, his gaze holding mine.
“Well, I have one more year of college left.”
“I could think of a few ways to fill those study breaks.”
I laugh. “Does that mean you are staying here in California with me this year?”
“Maybe even moving in together.”
“Dad would kill us.”
“I suppose I’d better convince him of my honorable intentions then.”
We stand there like two stupid lovebirds already picturing the trouble we could get into together.
Let the adventure continue.
Chapter Fifty-Nine The Wedding
It takes place on a perfect October day, just after the local festivals are winding down from harvest season. It’s a casual affair, no big fuss, either in terms of dress or adherence to tradition.
The leaves on the vine at the Abaroa Vineyard are still vibrant with bursts of orange, russet, red, and gold.
We love the azure hues of the sea, and make a point to visit whenever we can, whether it’s the cool waters off the beaches in Los Angeles or the warm, clear sea edging the coasts of Ibiza and Barcelona. Occasionally one small, hidden lagoon.
But there’s something about these warm, vibrant tones that always call to us, making us feel like we’ve reached a place to call home.
It was only fitting that this be where we made our vows to each other.
It wasn’t in a Catholic Church, but we felt Him watching over the ceremony with approval all the same. How could He ever deny the pure and honest, heartfelt love between the two of us?
Especially with so many witnesses there to observe.
My four remaining sisters, who I’ve spent the past year healing with, righting wrongs, understanding passions, overcoming adversities, are now his sisters as well.
My former team, men who were with me through it all, the only brothers I’ve ever known, are now her allies, there in a pinch if we should ever need them.
My father is his father.
My grandfather is her grandfather.
My family is his.
My family is hers.
Those, along with friends, loved ones, and strangers who just happened to be passing through are all here from various points on the map, California to Germany, Democratic Republic of the Congo to Monte Carlo. Even a special guest from one tiny island that most people in the world don’t even know exists.
They’ve come to see us unite from two into one.
Two curious wanderers who have finally found their place in the world.
Epilogue
“You found me,” I say, smiling at Enrique as he makes his way up the hill to join me before the sun comes up. My Spanish no longer carries an accent, not after all these years.
“I am somewhat of an expert at finding precious treasure,” my husband says with a wicked grin that still fills my veins with a rush of heat.
It’s our favorite spot, especially this early in the morning. Like the former owner of this vineyard, I enjoy coming up here before the winery becomes active. Enrique and I had a bench placed here not too long after we moved into the big house.
“You only call me treasure when you want to be bad,” I scold as he sits next to me.
“Well, it is our anniversary. We should commemorate it. Let’s scandalize the staff.”
He leans his head down to nuzzle my neck, jostling the chain that still holds the same gold cross I was wearing when I met him.
I laugh and slap him on the shoulder. He chuckles against my throat but pulls away.
“I don’t think they’ll be so much scandalized as they will be horrified.”
“By what? Two people who are still in love? We’ve still got it. Perhaps they can learn a thing or two.”
I laugh again.
He still drives me crazy, either with irritation, amusement, or passion. And yes, we do still have it.
The sun rises past the mountains and we watch the post-harvest vineyard burst into colors as the rays touch the leaves.
“I suppose that makes it official,” Enrique says, taking my hand in his.
“Fifty years,” I say with a smile.
We both became the Abaroas the same day we took our vows not too far from this spot, but we were tied to this place long before that.
Our wedding day is still a thrilling and vivid memory in my head. Many of the faces that joined us
