“The land on the south side—as you well know, seeing as how it’s your land now—is a little bit of a pain in the ass. The way the land slopes and curves, not to mention that steep drop-off down the side, well, my great-grandfather had a hard time figuring out how to effectively manage it. He was really struggling with it.”

“I can’t imagine trying to maintain it back then without all the innovation we have now,” Julia said, her eyes wide as she sipped her own glass of wine.

“Anyway, he was complaining about it, and your great-grandfather said he’d take it off his hands. I think he was joking, but things quickly turned serious. They were always betting—one or the other losing money one night and getting it back the next. My great-grandfather put that particular plot of land on the table after one too many drinks.”

Julia’s jaw dropped open, and I knew that she could tell what was coming next, but I said it anyway, “He lost the land, and that night, when he told my great-grandmother what he’d done, she insisted he march right back over and get it back. But your great-grandfather said that a wager was a wager, and he had won it fair and square.”

“He’s not wrong,” Mr. La Bella said with a shrug, and all eyes fell to him. “I’m just saying, if you bet and lose, you don’t get to take it back. That’s not the way betting works. If you’re going to be a man and bet manly things, you have to be willing to part with them.”

“Son, please continue,” my dad instructed.

“In the weeks that followed, my great-grandfather kept trying to get yours to bet the land again, so he could have a shot at winning it back, but yours refused to play for it. Apparently, he’d already gone to the courthouse to put the new land markings in writing, so the land was legally his, pending the new deed. My great-grandfather eventually backed down, but their relationship was never the same after that. I think it could have been repaired at some point, if it wasn’t for the fact that—” I started to explain when Julia interrupted me.

“Wait. The south side vines were originally yours?” She sounded so surprised and a little sad, like I’d just ripped a dream from her grasp or changed it somehow.

“They were. But no one knew what those vines would produce at the time.”

“So, if they didn’t know, then why did your great-grandfather want it back so bad? Why was he that pissed to lose it?”