Chapter Two #2
"I went away to college, and I have my apartment." He said it too fast and then felt foolish. Yes, he'd been here his whole life while she traveled with her daughter and her camper. But that wasn't her point.
She looked wistfully back at the house when they reached the bottom of the steps that led from the terrace down to the driveway. Then she surprised him by asking, "Will you tell me about it—about what it felt like growing up here?"
He caught himself hoping and reeled it back in. She wasn't suddenly interested in getting to know him better—she was seeking a better understanding of the estate.
"Sure. What do you want to know?" They set out toward the vines, her shoulder close to his as they walked.
"I wish I even knew what to ask," she said after a while. "Although, what you said about you making cupcakes with Faye when you were small maybe answered a lot of it already."
"Yeah, I think it might have." He looked around, wondering how the estate must look to her.
To him the vines, the house, the gardens were simply the backdrop of childhood.
Seeing it all through her eyes, he appreciated it more than he had in a long time.
"I remember standing where Zia's standing right now, being loved by Faye. "
Alara glanced at him, and he shrugged.
"That's what she's doing. That woman has more love to give than maybe anyone else I've ever met.
She loves Zia, loves spending time with her, showing her stuff, helping her grow into herself.
I know because I've been there. And …" he looked around at the vines again, "…
that's what this place is and does. It keeps on giving.
Faye's love and nurturing. The vines' grapes and wine.
My dad, too. They've all been here doing what they do for years, decades.
They give because it's what they're for. "
He frowned. "If that makes any sense. It did in my head, but …"
"Oh, it does. Don't stop. It makes all the sense in the world to me.
I've seen places like this, when we're on the road.
You drive by and you can see that a place has history.
I've always wondered about the people and the lives they hold.
What they feel like and what it might be like to be a part of something like that. "
"And now you can know for yourself. You're a part of this place now, you and Zia." He didn't dare look at her as he said it.
She didn't say anything for a long few moments as they kept walking. Eventually she stopped and reached out to touch the leaves on one of the vines. "You and your dad, and Ollie of course, you've all been so good to us, Reaves. But that doesn't make us part of it."
"It could, if you wanted to be."
She turned slowly to meet his gaze.
She didn't ask the question, but it hung in the air between them.
"You could try to relax and enjoy being on the inside for once instead of only driving by and wondering."
The words he really wanted to say stayed frozen. She didn't need to hear them. Not yet, maybe not ever. All he needed to do was give her a better feel for the place, like she'd asked him to.
He pointed along the row of vines. "Do you feel up to a bit of a walk? The land rises, and from up there you'll get a great view of the whole place. I used to go up there all the time."
"But you don't anymore? Why not?"
He had to think about it before he answered. "Honestly? I've taken this place for granted too much these last few years. I'm glad you let me come along; it'll do me good to fall in love with it again, too."
"You think I'll fall in love with it?"
He met her gaze briefly. "That's what I'm hoping.
" He hurried on. "I mean, I'm not any kind of artist, but that's how it works, isn't it?
Whether it's a painting or a photograph or any other piece of art, the love the artist feels for the subject comes through in the work.
" He rolled his eyes to hide his embarrassment.
"Listen to me talking like I have a clue! "
"You do. You understand. That's exactly why I wanted to come out here, to get a feel for the place." She seemed a little out of breath as she spoke.
He stopped walking. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, just out of shape, I guess. I've been doing too much sitting around on my ass lately."
"Alara, no, don't brush it off. You look pale. Want to sit?"
She looked around. "Where?"
"Right here until you get your breath back, then when you're up to it there's a bench a little farther ahead."
She looked down at the ground then turned back to look at the house. "I don't know, maybe I can…"
He made the decision for her by sitting down himself and reaching for her hand. "If you don't want to sit in the dirt you can sit on me."
Her eyes widened, and then she laughed out loud. "I know you didn't mean that the way it sounded, but … Reaves!"
He laughed with her, running his hand over his face—he couldn't exactly tell her that if he thought she were interested, he'd mean every word of it. "You know what I mean. If you don't want to get your dress dirty, I'll stretch my legs out and …"
She lowered herself and, instead of aiming for the ground beside him like he expected, she landed her ass on his thighs, making him inhale sharply.
"Are you okay? Am I too heavy? I can move. I…"
As she started to move off him, his arm curled around her waist—he couldn't have stopped it if he'd wanted to.
"You're fine. You're not heavy—far from it.
" He didn't want to make a big deal out of it, but she barely weighed more than Zia.
Or that's how it seemed to him. He knew she was eating—Faye, his dad, and he had all been making a deliberate effort to feed her and Zia well—but she wasn't gaining any weight.
"Are you comfortable?"
"I am, but are you? I shouldn't have done this, shouldn't have sat here."
"I'm glad you did."
She met his gaze and held it for a long moment. "It's not that I don't like you, Reaves. I do. But it can't go anywhere, so it's better if we just … don't."
He nodded slowly. He'd already promised himself he wasn't going to put any pressure on her; she didn't need it.
"I know you think that, but all I'll say is that I hope that someday, down the line, you'll find that you're wrong, that you'll change your mind."
She sagged against him for a moment and it took all his restraint not to close both arms around her. "It's not about me changing my mind, Reaves. It's about me facing reality."
"And what reality is that?"
"The one where you're you, and I'm me, and I have Zia and …" she had to stop to catch her breath.
He ran his hand up and down her back.
"And I need to figure out what's going on with me," she said eventually.
"Now there's something we can agree on. Did you make an appointment?"
"I did. It's tomorrow morning at 10, but you don't need to go with me. I'm sure you're working, and I can take Z and …"
"I'm not working." It could technically be called a lie, since he was scheduled to fly with Ollie in the morning.
But he knew that Elliott was free this week, and that he'd be happy to take the right seat with Ollie if Reaves asked him to.
"I'd like to go with you. I can entertain Zia if nothing else. "
She worked her bottom lip as she looked into his eyes. "You don't need to."
"I know, I'm saying I want to."
He knew he'd won when she gave him a little more of her weight.
"Okay. If you really don't mind."
He clenched his jaw so tight he heard it crack when she added, "It'd be good to have you there—I'm scared, Reaves."