Chapter Four
Reaves parked out front when he arrived at the estate on Friday morning. He ran up the steps to the front door and pushed it open, half expecting Zia to come hurrying to greet him, as she often did.
Instead, he was met with a silent entrance hall. He checked in the family room, but there was no one there. In the kitchen, Faye was clearing away after breakfast.
"I hear you're taking her this morning."
"I am. Do you know where everyone is?"
"Alara's upstairs getting ready. And the little one's in your dad's study with him.
You want to see him, Reaves. He's wearing blue jeans and an old denim shirt.
I wondered what was going on when I first saw him.
But he explained that he fully expects to end this morning covered in glue, glitter, and goodness knows what else.
Those were his exact words," she added with a laugh.
"Oh, but wait—I assumed that you knew. You and Alara aren't expecting to take her with you, are you? "
He glanced back toward the hallway. "I think Alara expects to have to bring her. But by the sound of it, Dad's trying to make it easy to leave her behind."
Faye nodded approvingly. "I think that's the best call. Although, you and your dad should both be prepared to back down if she wants to take the little one with her."
"It’s okay. We're trying to make it easy for her, not take over and make decisions for her."
"I know, but it's a careful line to tread. But go on—if you want a word with your dad before Alara's ready to go, you should go and see him now."
"Thanks, Faye."
"You're welcome." She hesitated. "I probably shouldn't say it, but I'm enjoying having the two of them around. I hope…" She shook her head. "Well, I really shouldn't say it, but you know."
Reaves went and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "I do. And I'm saying it too."
Faye patted his shoulder. "Good. Now go and have a word with your dad while you can."
When he arrived at his dad's study, he had to laugh. His dad was sitting on the floor on an enormous piece of paper—it had to be wallpaper or something—watching Zia dip her hands into an actual bucket full of glitter.
He looked up guiltily and shrugged. "Good morning."
"Morning, Dad."
Zia turned to smile at him, but for once didn't come running.
Instead, she held up her hands, which were coated in glitter all the way up to her elbows.
"Prince Daddy, I can't come to you. You have to come to me.
Grandpa Grape is going to help me make glitter handprint pictures.
" She shot his dad a small scowl. "But part of the bargain is that until we're finished, we both have to stay on the paper.
" Her expression lightened as she asked, "Have you ever seen a piece of paper as big as this? I never have."
"I haven't," said Reaves. "It's just what you need for a good big glitter painting, isn't it?"
She nodded solemnly and made a handprint on the paper right next to where his dad was sitting. "Come on, Grandpa Grape. You haven't made any handprints yet."
Reaves bit back a laugh at the look his dad gave him.
When he held his own hands up, they too sparkled from the tips of his fingers right up to his wrists.
He looked a little shame-faced at first, but his whole face transformed as he waggled his fingers in the air before turning to make a handprint right next to where Zia was sitting.
Then he leaned forward and placed both his hands together on the paper, joined at the wrists, with the fingers spreading out. When he straightened up, he pointed to the shape he'd left. "What do you think, sunflower? Does it look like a butterfly?"
Zia tilted her head to the side, not entirely convinced, as she studied it. His dad pointed to the center and said, "If we were to draw a black line there for its body, and give it some little antennae—"
"Ooh." Zia nodded eagerly. "I'll go and get the—"
"No need," his dad said hurriedly, passing her a tub filled with crayons, pencils, and markers. "I brought everything we could possibly want, so that we don't need to leave the paper, remember?"
Reaves was laughing quietly to himself when he heard movement in the hallway behind him.
~ ~ ~
Alara's stride faltered when she noticed Reaves standing just inside the door to Charles's study.
She hadn't realized he was already here.
The sight of him silhouetted in the doorway like that made her wish, momentarily …
But no. She didn't have even a moment to spare for thoughts like that this morning.
She needed to get Zia ready so that they could go out.
He turned and greeted her with a smile as she approached.
"Hey."
"Hey." She loved the sound of his voice. It was so soothing—and soothing was exactly what her nerves needed. "I need to get Zia ready, I…"
Reaves surprised her by stepping back out into the hallway and closing the door behind him.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"Nothing, nothing's wrong. I just wanted to check in with you. She and Dad already got started on a little project this morning, and I wondered how you'd feel about leaving her here with him."
"Oh no, that's okay. I'm sure your dad has other things he'd rather be spending his time on."
She couldn't read the smile on his face as he said, "I think I'd have to disagree with you there.
And when I open that door, you'll see exactly what I mean.
Dad doesn't mind in the least. And if Zia stays with him, I get the impression that she'll be just as happy to keep playing.
" He met her gaze. "But I didn't want to put you on the spot.
I wanted to give you fair warning before you go in there. "
"Of what?" she asked, confused.
"I think the best thing I can do is show you," he said, with a look on his face that was almost a smirk. "If you really want to bring her, we'll have to pull her out of there quick and clean her up as best we can."
"Reaves, what's going on?"
"Nothing bad, I promise. Here, I'll show you." With that, he pushed the door open and motioned for her to go in ahead of him.
The moment she stepped into the room, Alara understood completely.
The sight of Zia rolling around on a huge sheet of paper, spreading glitter everywhere, Charles sitting next to her, looking like some kind of bedazzled wizard...
she got it. There was no way she'd be able to get Zia cleaned up enough in time to go.
"Mommy, look, we're making the biggest glitter picture ever," Zia declared. "Grandpa Grape might even let me hang it on his wall when we're finished."
Reaves let out a strangled sound beside her, and Alara couldn't keep the smile off her face when Charles said, "I didn't make any promises, young lady. And I believe this will end up being a very large picture."
"I know," said Zia, patting his hand. "But perhaps we can cut out the good parts and just hang those in your study. Especially your butterfly."
Charles gave Alara a rueful smile. "I apologize, my dear. It appears I was a little reckless this morning. It was thoughtless of me."
She held his gaze, knowing exactly what he'd done. There was nothing reckless about his actions, and rather than thoughtless, he was being incredibly thoughtful. She didn't see any point in playing along with the charade.
"I understand, Charles. And I think we both know that you don't need to apologize. And I need to thank you."
His expression gentled. "I didn't mean to be manipulative."
"I know that. And you weren't. I appreciate it."
Her gaze landed on Zia, who was now literally rolling back and forth on the paper.
"Do you want to play, Mom?"
"I can't, Z. I have that appointment to go to this morning, remember?"
"Oh, yeah, that's right." Zia sat up and pushed her hair off her face before rubbing her fists to her eyes. When she was done, even her face sparkled. "I can get ready now, if we have to go."
"Would you like to stay here with Grandpa Grape?"
Zia tilted her head to the side and blinked a couple of times. Alara knew her daughter. She was assessing the reason for the question. She was already certain of her answer.
"Will you be okay without me?"
"I will. I'll be fine. As long as I know that you're having fun."
Zia grinned at Charles. "We're having the most fun that two people could ever have with a bucket of glitter. Isn't that right, Grandpa Grape?"
Charles chuckled. "I believe so."
"In that case…" Alara glanced back at Reaves, and he nodded encouragingly. "I guess we'll go then."
"We'll be fine," Charles assured her.
She glanced at Zia again, but she was already preoccupied, drawing what looked to be butterfly wings around a patch of glitter on the paper.
"I'll see you later then, Z."
"Bye, Mom." She murmured the words without even looking up.
Alara watched her for a few moments before turning to leave.
It was hard sometimes. The more independent her daughter became, the prouder Alara was of her, and the more reassured that she was raising her well.
At the same time, walking away from Charles’s study, she felt more alone than she ever had.
She didn't understand how he did it, but by the time she and Reaves were in his old Land Cruiser, on their way up the long drive to the gates at the entrance of the estate, she somehow didn't feel so alone.
He hadn't said much, but just the way he was with her—laughing about Zia, making sure she had everything she needed, even remembering what she'd told him about keeping a written list of her symptoms and asking if she’d remembered to bring it—everything he said and did made her feel like she wasn't in this alone anymore.
She glanced over at him as he pulled out through the gates and onto the road. He must have felt her looking, because he turned to her with a smile. "Are you all right?"
"I am. I…" She hesitated. "Thanks, Reaves."
There was so much else she wanted to say, so much that she probably should say, but for now, all she could do was hope that he would read at least some of it into those two words.
The way he reached over to take her hand and give it a squeeze told her that maybe he did.
"Do you know where the doctor's office is?" she asked, after they'd ridden in silence for a few moments.
"I do, and I even know where we can park. We should have plenty of time to spare, but if anything comes up on the way, I can always drop you outside the front door while I go and park. Then I'll come in and wait for you."
She looked over at him again. She hadn't meant to keep looking, but her eye kept going back to him the way it went to anything she'd have wanted to get down on paper—not to admire it, exactly, but because it wouldn't let her look away until she understood it.
With Reaves, it was the stillness in his face.
Nothing in it moved that didn't need to.
She'd noticed it the very first time she saw him.
She hadn't trusted it then—nothing in her life had ever held that steady—but she was starting to think she'd been wrong.
"You don't have to wait, you know. I don't know how long I'll be in there.
" She worried at her bottom lip. After all these long months of knowing she needed to see a doctor but not knowing how it would be possible, the appointment had grown so big in her mind that she couldn’t see anything beyond it.
She felt as though she might be in there for hours.
He shot her a quick smile. "I'm going nowhere, no matter how long it takes. If you'd let me, I'd ask to come in with you."
"Oh, Reaves, I…"
"No, I know. I'm not asking you to let me. Just making clear that I'll be right there in the waiting room when you come out, okay?"
Her throat tightened as she nodded. "Thanks, Reaves." It came out as barely more than a whisper.
"How do you feel about it all?" he asked, after another few minutes had gone by in silence.
"I honestly don't know. I'm trying not to think about it."
"I can understand that."
She clasped her hands together, prepared for him to start asking questions—and if he did, she'd answer them. He had every right to ask.
"Do you want the radio on?"
"I, uh—sure, if you want it on."
He turned to meet her gaze for a brief moment before focusing his attention back on the road.
"I don't care about the radio, Alara. And I don't want to screw this up.
I'm guessing that you'd like to be left alone with your thoughts on the way there.
I'm offering the radio in case you don't want to be left in silence. "
Something loosened in her chest as she stared at him. "Silence is good, thanks," she said eventually. If she were braver, she would have added the words that echoed in her head—that the silence was fine, as long as he was in it with her.
They still had plenty of time to spare when they reached the doctor's office, so she went with him while he parked, and then they walked inside together. She gave her name to the receptionist, who slid a clipboard toward her.
"You'll need to fill in the new patient— Oh no, wait."
Alara nodded. She'd already filled out every form she could find online.
"Okay, you're all set. Take a seat, and Dr. Ambrose will be with you in a little while."
She perched on the edge of a hard plastic chair and couldn't read the expression on Reaves's face as he watched her.
"What's up?"
"Nothing. It's all good. I want to tell you to get more comfortable—we might be here for a while—but…" He shook his head. "That'd be a dumb thing to say. I know better."
All she could do was nod. She wanted to thank him for the thought, but she didn't get the chance to say anything before a light came on above the door.
The receptionist looked up. "You can go in now."
Reaves reached out and gave her hand a squeeze. "I'm proud of you."
She gripped his hand tightly. She couldn't speak—there was no way she could explain how much his words meant to her.
He gave her an encouraging smile. "You'd better get in there. It's finally time to make a start on getting you better. I'll be right here waiting until you come out."
"I… you don’t have to. I could…"
He held her gaze, his expression steady. "I'm going nowhere."
When she reached the door, she tapped lightly.
The name on the brass plate—Dr. Henry Ambrose—settled something inside her.
She'd researched all the doctors she was eligible to see.
This guy's photo had called to her. He was older and he had a kind smile.
He looked like a wealthy Napa gentleman—reminded her of Charles in a way.
And although she'd started out thinking that she'd like to find a younger female doctor, she'd kept coming back to Dr. Ambrose.
"Come in."
She pushed the door open and went inside. She was about to find out if her instincts had guided her right. She inhaled deeply—she was about to find out a whole lot more than that.