The Villa

something. I should have told you. You've been so busy… Damn it." Pilar tried to explain. "I've used your schedule to avoid talking to you. I'm sorry."
    "You don't have to apologize to me for buying a ring, Mama. Except I believe that one might be considered a small monument."
    "I was angry. You should never do anything when you're angry." To give herself something to do, Pilar picked up her gardening tools, began to replace them. "Baby, Helen is handling the divorce for me. I should've—"
    "Good. She won't let you get scalped. Don't look at me like that, Mama. You've been careful, all my life you've been careful never to speak against my father. But I'm not blind, and I'm not stupid."
    "No." Overcome by sadness, Pilar set her little trowel aside. "No, you've never been either." And had seen, had understood so much more than a child should.
    "If you let him, he'd take your money and anything else that wasn't nailed down. He wouldn't be able to help himself. I feel better knowing Aunt Helen's looking out for your interests. Now let's get these flowers into the house."
    "Sophie." Pilar laid a hand on her daughter's arm as Sophia picked up a pot of amaryllis. "I'm so sorry this hurts you."
    "You've never hurt me. He always has. I don't suppose he can help that, either." She picked up a second pot. "Rene's going to swallow her tongue when she gets a load of that rock."
    "I know. That was the idea."
     
    For over fifty years, Giambelli, California had held lavish Christmas parties for family, friends, employees and associates. As the company had grown, so had the guest list.
    Following the tradition set by the Italian branch of the company, the parties were held simultaneously on the last Saturday before Christmas. The house was open to family and friends, and the winery to employees. Associates, depending on their position on the feeding chain, were placed in the proper location.
    Invitations to the main house were prized like gold and often used as a symbol of status or success. Still, the Giambellis didn't stint on the festivities in the winery. Food was elegant and plentiful, wine flowed freely, and both the decorations and the entertainment were top-notch.
    Every member of the family was expected to make an appearance at both venues.
    Having done so since her fifteenth year, Sophia was well aware that the winery party was a great deal more entertaining. And less full of irritating relations.
    She could hear one of her cousin Gina's progeny shrieking at the other end of the hall. Her hopes that Don and his herd would remain in Italy had been dashed the evening before when they'd arrived.
    Still even their presence wouldn't be as annoying as that of her father and Rene. Her mother had stuck firm on their being invited, going head to head with La Signora on the issue. The consolation was their invitation had been to the winery.
    That, she thought as she fastened on her diamond teardrop earrings, would stick sharply in Rene's craw.
    She stepped back, studied the results in her cheval glass. The shimmering silver gown with its short, fitted jacket worked well. The scooped neck was a nice frame for the diamond necklace. Both it and the earrings had been her great-grandmother's.
    She turned, checked the line of her skirt, then called out an invitation at the knock on her door.
    "Look at you!" Helen came in, pretty and plump in frosty pink. "You sparkle all over."
    "It's great, isn't it?" Sophia took another turn, for the fun of it. "I bought it in New York, thinking of New Year's, but I had to press it into duty tonight. Not too much with the diamonds?"
    "Diamonds are never too much. Honey." She shut the door. "I wanted a minute. I hate to bring this up now, right before you have to socialize with hundreds of people, but Pilar told me Tony and Rene will be here."
    "What is it?"
    "The divorce is final. Yesterday. It was really no more than a formality after all these years. Since Tony was in a hurry and didn't complicate matters with financial negotiations, it was really just a matter of filing the papers."
    "I see." Sophia picked up her evening bag, opened and closed the catch. "Have you told Mama?"
    "Yes. Just now. She's fine. Or she's holding up. I know it's important to her you do the same."
    "Don't worry about me. Aunt Helen." She crossed the room, took Helen's hands. "You're a brick. I don't know what she'd have done without you."
    "She needs to move on."
    "I know."
    "And so do you." She squeezed Sophia's hands.