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Dad's Wine Cleared My Shallow Fate
NovelShort
已完結
In Vinewood, when a child is born the family buries wine, and when a daughter marries the jar is opened. With my wedding almost here, I went to dig up my wine from under the sweet olive tree, only to ...
章節（4）
第1章
In Vinewood, a child of the land is born when the wine is brewed and married when the jar is opened.
With the wedding almost here, I went to dig up the wine under the sweet-olive tree, and found it already gone.
I hurried home, only to walk in on my fiancé handing the aged bridal wine to my stepsister.
"Your mom says you're going to livestream a heritage wedding ceremony. On the wedding day, you'll ride in the bridal sedan holding the aged bridal wine, streaming the whole thing."
Seeing me come in, my brother frowned, grave.
"The tourism board asked your sister to livestream a re-creation of a heritage wedding ceremony. Your wine can be the prop that goes on TV. Don't make a scene."
My mother, too, was glowing with borrowed pride.
"Tessa Whitfield, this is a big deal for Beryl Pruitt. I've decided to move your whole wedding schedule onto her."
"As long as you're the one who signs the marriage papers at the end. You don't mind, do you."
I didn't answer. I turned to look at my fiancé.
"Do you think I shouldn't mind either?"
Ervin Dickerson blanked for a moment, then settled back into calm.
"Tessa, you've always been sensible."
"This is Beryl's big day. You should be understanding about it."
I nodded, my face untroubled.
"You're right. Her business is what matters."
And mine doesn't.
I should have seen it clearly by now. And I should leave.
...
"This wine really smells good, Mom. Can I open it and have a taste?"
"Just a little bit."
The coy voice drifted over, and my mother's answer was thick with indulgence: "Taste it if you want. It's nothing special anyway."
In my memory, the small me watched my father brew wine for another family's newborn and wanted, curious, to have a sip.
My mother would always scoop me up at once, her voice doting and helpless.
"The first mouthful of aged bridal wine can only go to that family's child. It's the blessing her father gives her for a beautiful life."
"For anyone else to take the first taste is stealing that child's blessing. That's bad manners."
But now, my blessing was the one my mother had given away.
My brother poured her a small cup, and Beryl downed it in one go. The next second her face twisted from the burn.
Her little hand fanned like a paper fan, waving air over her own tongue.
"So hot, so hot, my tongue hurts and it's all this awful wine's fault."
Beryl, unhappy, never held it in.
She knocked my brother's hand aside and smashed the wine on the floor.
"What is this garbage—"
It was as if the wine and the shards burst apart in the same instant.
I stumbled forward two steps, my heart like it was being cut away piece by piece.
I crouched down, wanting to gather up the fragments that still held a little wine.
The next second my hand was pinned under her foot.
"Picking up every piece of trash. Can't you see I got burned?"
Pain shot straight through the back of my hand. Cold sweat broke out, and I gritted my teeth and pulled it free. Beryl, not expecting it, took a step back.
Then she burst into sobs. "Mom, brother, she's bullying me."
"In my sister's eyes I'm not even worth as much as some awful wine."
One cry, and my brother's and mother's eyes changed.
Turned on me in blame.
In reproach.
In disgust.
"Can't you ever give your sister a little slack?"
"A jar of bad wine, so it broke, it broke. That move of yours, what if you'd hurt your sister?"
My mother shoved me backhanded, and I fell onto the shards of the wine jar.
The puncture in my hand drove deeper, and more shards of porcelain bit in.
Blood mixed with wine, and the cut burned as if it were being seared.
My body hurt so much that the ache inside almost seemed to ease.
After my father died and my mother remarried, from day one she told me I had to give way to the sister in the new family.
To treat everything about my sister as if it were the most important thing in the world.
When my sister got sick from the cold, my mother would drive me out into the yard and pour bucket after bucket of ice over me.
Dressed up as:
"Your sister isn't well. If nothing's wrong with you at all, it'll upset her to see it."
When I ran a high fever, I wasn't even given medicine.
"You're too strong, medicine works fast on you. Your sister would be unhappy to see that."
When my sister fell and scraped her knee and cried a couple of times, my brother dragged me straight to a little dirt slope and shoved me hard down it.
My hand fractured, and I was scraped raw all over.
And he said:
"Get hurt worse. Your sister will be happier seeing someone as hurt as she is."
They wanted my sister happy, and it didn't matter whether I lived or died.
Ervin helped me up, something like pity in his eyes too.
"Your sister's just a kid at heart. Don't take it to heart."
"Go clean up your wound first. Your sister and I still have to run through it at the guesthouse. The ceremony's tomorrow."
With that, he let go and chased off after Beryl.
I took out my phone and messaged my best friend:
"Weren't you short a winemaker for the island?"
"I'll come."
第2章
That afternoon the whole group went straight into a livestream, recording the entire thing.
The tourism board was drawing in viewers first.
【The Legendary Vinewood Heritage Wedding, in One Continuous Shot】
The doctor worked on my wound while the wall screen ran the livestream in real time.
Beryl had dropped all her usual arrogance, greeting the camera with warmth.
“Next, we're going to show you the most authentic Vinewood wedding.”
The stylists wheeled out the gown, and Beryl introduced it with a smile.
“A Vinewood heritage wedding is all about the details, especially the dress.”
“The bridal gown isn't rented. You have to find a seamstress and have it custom-made half a year in advance.”
“It has to follow the bride's figure exactly. Not a single loose line anywhere.”
The gown Ervin had me pick a design for half a year ago, but no one ever took my measurements.
I'd asked him about it. If they don't measure me, what happens if it doesn't fit?
He'd said:
“The ones I found are all old-school tailors. One look and they know exactly what size suits you.”
But now I saw it. It wasn't that the tailors didn't measure. They'd measured someone else all along.
The staff led the bridesmaids inside to go over the sequence, then noticed something was off.
“There should be an even number. How is one missing?”
One of the bridesmaids quickly explained: “One of our bridesmaids had a stomachache and went to the hospital.”
Beryl's face soured again. She looked ready to snap at someone, but with the camera on her she just glanced toward Mom.
Less than two minutes later, my phone rang. It was Mom.
“On the wedding day, you'll wear the bridesmaid dress and walk through it with your sister.”
“And when the last part of the ceremony is done, you'll hand over the winemaking recipe your father left you. As a gift for your sister.”
I thought I'd misheard.
In Vinewood, every household had its own winemaking recipe.
The recipe was your lifeblood.
I'd loved making wine since I was small, so Dad gave his recipe to me.
He wanted me to make more wine that people would love.
My brother's voice cut in:
“It's just a recipe. Don't be so petty.”
“All these years you've eaten off the Pruitts, lived off the Pruitts. Now they're not even asking for a bride price, and you should count yourself lucky.”
The doctor started the stitches. My hand jerked once, but I swallowed the pain fast.
“You say I ate off the Pruitts and lived off the Pruitts. Want me to run you the numbers?”
“Dad died when I was in middle school. From the summer of that first year, Mom shipped me off to work summer jobs. She called it easing the burden of raising a Pruitt child.”
“Living in this house, you charged me for everything, room and board both. A thousand a month for the room, ten for breakfast, thirty for dinner.”
“I paid it for ten years. The cleaning, the laundry, the cooking, I did all that on top of it……”
Back then I didn't dare get sick, because Mom said medicine was expensive, and if she had to sit with me, it was a hundred an hour.
Parent-teacher conferences were billed separately.
Because once Mom got married, she wasn't only my mother anymore.
But the rules Mom set never applied to Beryl or to my brother.
They ate, slept, and got sick without paying a cent, and Mom had endless time to spend on them.
I was the natural accident, it seemed.
“Mom, I don't owe you people anything.”
“And my dad owed you even less.”
“I won't give up the recipe, and I won't be a bridesmaid.”
My words set Mom off.
Her roar came down the line.
“You do owe me. From the moment I gave birth to you instead of leaving you out on the street, you've owed me.”
“Fine, don't give me the recipe. Then forget your wedding jewelry, and forget your wedding while you're at it.”
I'd never wanted any of it to begin with.
A threat like that meant nothing.
“Do whatever you want.”
Not long after, a few photos popped up in the family group chat we all shared.
Photos of Beryl wearing the gold jewelry.
Mom was underneath, laying on the praise.
【Beryl wears these so much better than a certain someone.】
【Beryl's so pretty.】
Ervin added his own compliment too:
【Beautiful.】
Looking at that one word, my heart ached a little.
The doctor snipped the thread short and sighed:
“Some feelings, when it's time to cut them off, you cut them off.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
Leaving the hospital, my best friend texted to say she was coming to pick me up.
I'd just reached the entrance to wait when a few thugs blocked my way, comparing me against a photo.
“That's her, no mistake.”
“Ervin says she made his sister mad. Told us to teach her a lesson.”
I was about to call for help when a hand cracked hard across my face.
They spoke first.
“Bitch. Stole from my buddy's sister and still won't give it back.”
“We'll make you sorry.”
第3章
The moment they heard that, whoever might have stepped in to help scattered.
The thugs seized the chance and dragged me into a van.
My face was swollen and throbbing, and in the panic I hit the wrong contact and dialed Ervin.
I didn't care by then. All I could do was beg for help.
"Ervin, help me, someone's grabbed me, please help me."
But the voice that answered was a woman's.
"Ervin, it's my sister calling."
Ervin frowned and reached for the phone.
"The voice didn't sound right. What's happening with your sister?"
Before his hand could touch it, my brother pulled it away.
His tone was careless. "Tessa took something of Beryl's. I sent people to get it back. That's probably why she's calling you."
"It's nothing. She's just being dramatic."
The line dropped to a flat dial tone.
My phone got flung out the window, my collar was yanked and my body slammed hard against the seat, and the wound on my arm split open.
"Hand over that dead father of yours winemaking recipe."
"Man, you can still—"
A hand clamped down on my throat. I had no strength left to fight, and I shut my eyes in despair.
The next second, the speeding van jolted with the sound of impact.
The window shattered, and a hand reached in and threw the door open.
It grabbed the man choking me and hurled him straight out.
Bodyguards pulled the others away first thing.
"You son of a bitch, screwing up my job."
"I got paid for this."
The cursing wouldn't stop.
Before I could even process it, I was pulled down out of the van.
My best friend threw her arms around me.
"God, you scared me half to death. Good thing I came to the hospital early to pick you up, or something terrible would've happened to you."
"Are you really sure? No wedding, you come with me?"
"Didn't you always want to marry Ervin?"
I laughed at myself.
I picked up my phone and showed her the livestream.
"I used to. Not anymore."
"I'm tired. If you need a winemaker, I'll come work there."
"As long as it puts me far away from those people at home, that's enough."
Debbie nodded, then turned to her own older brother.
"Deal with these people. I'm taking Tessa to pack first."
"Since Tessa doesn't care about those relatives of hers anymore, handle it however you want. Better if it hurts them a little."
The livestream was still running.
Except the comments weren't very happy.
【We came to see cultural heritage, not to listen to your brother swear.】
【Host, can you even do this? If you can't, get offline. This is embarrassing.】
【And weren't you going to share the winemaking recipe? Were you just talking big?】
【Fraud host. Fraud host.】
The tourism board people and Beryl's little assistant both looked mortified.
Beryl watched the comments, fighting to keep her temper in check, forcing her face back into something pitiful.
"The recipe has always been with my sister."
"Everyone, please be patient. Let's move to the next step. Once she arrives, I promise I'll share the recipe."
Ervin frowned, and for the first time spoke up against her.
"The recipe was left behind by Tessa's father before he died. She's always treasured it. Why should she share it?"
Her mother cut in.
"I'm the one who gave birth to her. Her father's dead. Why can't she take it out and give it to her stepsister?"
"She has to give way to her stepsister—"
The ugly words drove into Ervin like thorns.
Once again he felt, plainly, how suffocating Tessa's life was.
Whenever she used to complain, he'd only thought she was making a fuss over nothing.
Just buying her sister one dress with money from a part-time job. But everything in Tessa's life, her food, her clothes, her roof, all of it cost money.
And still she was expected to take her little bit of money and buy things for people who already had plenty.
Not buying meant she was stingy.
Not obeying meant she was bullying her sister.
Hearing someone defend her, Beryl only grew smugger.
"I'm the Pruitt princess. Everyone should listen to me."
"If you won't, I'll record you and post it online and let my followers tear you apart."
She pulled out her phone and aimed the camera at Ervin.
"Everybody come look, we've got a real saint over here."
"All I want is to share a winemaking recipe with you all, and this guy won't let me. Go on, tear him apart."
"Tear this—"
Ervin's hand shot up and knocked the phone away. "Can you stop with this crap?"
The car looped back to the house on the way.
I took my winemaking notes and the recipe out of the cramped storeroom where I lived.
My best friend held onto me, her eyes steady.
"From now on, things will only get better. No one will ever be able to hurt you again."
第4章
I took one last look at the broken shards of the wine jar scattered across the floor. I picked up a single piece, wrapped it in paper, and took it with me.
Out the door, the streetlight stretched my shadow long, long across the ground.
For the first time, the weight I'd carried seemed to fall away completely.
I got into the car, and my phone rang.
I didn't answer.
But someone new had walked into the livestream.
Mom was about to start yelling when she saw who it was, and the words died in her throat.
"Mr. Cox. Are you here to talk business with Beryl's father?"
"He isn't in right now—"
Bertram Cox didn't even look at her. He signaled his bodyguard, who dragged the man straight into frame.
"Sending a pack of thugs to rob your own sister. Doesn't that strike you as pretty low?"
"If I'd been a step later, your sister would've been strangled to death."
The older brother froze, then blurted out on reflex,
"I only told them to scare her a little, just enough to get the recipe—"
"No. Beryl, how did you word that message?"
He whipped around toward Beryl and charged straight at her.
"What exactly did you write?"
Snapped at one time too many, Beryl's temper wouldn't hold.
"So what if I told them to teach her a lesson?"
"Mom already said I could keep Tessa like a dog. It's her fault for not listening to me."
"So when I sent the message, I added a couple of lines. If she won't cooperate, just strangle her, done."
"My dad's got money anyway. We'll pay for the life."
Ervin Dickerson looked like he'd been struck by lightning. He slapped Beryl across the face.
"Someone like you has any right to promote our cultural heritage?"
Mom shrieked and lunged at him, trying to hit him.
He threw her straight to the floor.
Beryl clutched her cheek, her eyes all but spitting fire, and lost the last of her restraint.
"If I don't deserve it, does Tessa? Please."
"What, you look like you're ready to go running after Tessa? Dream on."
"On that call just now she heard your voice, clear as day. She knows you didn't come save her. Tessa's a proud one. Her heart's already dead, well and truly dead."
Ervin's eyes looked like they'd caught fire. Both hands closed around Beryl's throat.
"That call. What exactly did she say?"