In September, the first grapes came in.As always, the harvest banquet was held at the first estate.My father had set the rule: it would be held outside the old press house, and a Vitale would raise the first glass, so every guest would know who was responsible for the land.The chair at the head of the table had been my father's, then my aunt's.Once I came of age, it was mine for eight years.This year, my name was at the very last table.Right next to the side door to the kitchen.When I walked into the courtyard, Beatrice, in a long dark red dress, sat in my father's old seat with Leonardo on her right.The people at the head table saw me, then looked over at the place card with my name on it by the side door.Nobody said a word.My aunt had come too.She'd been seated at another table and was happily praising the decorations. As I passed, she tugged at my hand."Don't make a scene today. Everyone's here.""Do you know where they put me?" I asked her.She glanced at the side door
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