Gemotions

The solicitor’s words hung in the air, a melody she wanted to rewind and replay. “...and to Amelia, a controlling stake in the family vineyard, Chateau Reverie.” Amelia bounced on the balls of her feet, her hands clasped together, a goofy grin plastered across her face. The scent of old wood and leather-bound ledgers barely registered. She could almost taste the crisp, clean air that permeated the vines, the promise of the next harvest. Her brother, Thomas, looked at her, his face a mask of polite disappointment, the corners of his mouth turned downward. She simply couldn’t contain the giggles bubbling up inside her, a feeling like fizzy water dancing in her chest.

The drive back to the house felt ridiculously short. Sunlight poured in through the car windows, illuminating dust motes that seemed to dance in celebration. She found herself humming under her breath, a tune she didn't even recognize, her fingers drumming a frantic rhythm against the steering wheel. She imagined the possibilities: expanding the winery, experimenting with new blends, the endless parties, the joyous clamor of the harvest season.