Page 1 of Sherry and Sunflowers
Chapter One
Alara hurried toward Charles's study, her eyes still blurry. She'd only sat down to rest for a few minutes but had woken to find that an hour had passed. When she and Zia were living in the camper, it wasn't so bad. Of course, it wasn't ideal that she left her daughter unsupervised while she rested, but at least Zia was right there with her. Now, here, in Charles's house, things were different. She and Zia had their own rooms. She had an office! Something she'd never expected to have in life. And Zia had free run of the house—the castle, as she called it. So, when Alara awoke, she suffered momentary panic followed by the immediate need to search for her daughter.
They'd been here for a couple of weeks now, and Alara knew that she'd most likely find Zia with Charles. He didn't seem to mind—claimed he didn't—and Zia had good instincts about when to make herself scarce. But still, Alara didn't want to impose or to overstep the kind and generous welcome Charles and Reaves had offered them.
She hesitated when she reached the study. The door stood slightly ajar. Her hand hovered over the handle. From inside, she could hear her daughter clearly.
"Not like that, Grandpa Grape! The flowers will get all squashed and they won't like it."
"Hm. I see what you mean. Perhaps you'd like to arrange them so that they'll be … comfortable."
The smile she could hear in Charles's voice drew a matching one from Alara. For an older gentleman who, by his ownadmission, had had very little to do with children, he handled Zia well.
Her smile grew wider when she heard Zia tell him, "No, you should do it. It's not the same if I just tell you how to do things. You need to try it for yourself before you can understand. And don't worry"—Alara could picture her patting Charles's hand as she did so often, a gesture that she'd picked up from him—"it doesn't matter if you don't get it right. You can only learn by doing. Here, I'll do the first ones so you can see, but then you can take over."
Alara knew she should go in, not stand here eavesdropping but she couldn't resist. It made her heart happy to hear her daughter spending time with someone who not only didn't mind her presence but genuinely seemed to enjoy her company. Zia was … a lot, and in general, people didn't know how to handle her. Charles probably fell into that category too, but in a good way. He'd told Alara repeatedly that having the two of them staying here hadn't just livened up the house and grounds—he felt like it'd given him a new lease on life, too.
"That's it," Zia encouraged. "Can you see how the flowers look happier now? They have room to spread their petals. You're doing great, Grandpa Grape."
"Thank you." Alara loved that he sounded pleased with himself. "I have a very good teacher."
"I'm not a teacher really, you know. But my mom is, kind of."
Alara frowned at that and leaned closer.
"She is?" Charles sounded as puzzled as she felt. "You mean your mom worked as a teacher before?"
"Oh no. She's always been an artist. She's creative. She wouldn't like to have to go to school every day—just like she thinks I wouldn't. That's why she teaches me herself."
Alara leaned back a little. It was true, but she didn't know how much longer it could go on. Until her plans had fallen through, she and Zia had been on their way to Oregon where their lives would have been very different. She'd intended to take a job—a real one, in a place she'd have to go for fixed hours every day. And when the fall came around, Zia was supposed to start school. If they stayed in Napa, she'd have to be enrolled in school here.
She closed her eyes briefly. There were still so many questions hanging over her head. She didn't know how they could stay. Charles had been so kind. Ollie had been so generous in putting her on the payroll. But the job she was here to do—to help with the rebranding of the winery—wouldn't take more than a few months at most. As much as she wanted to relax and enjoy the comfort and safety offered here, she couldn't allow herself to settle into it. She had to figure out what came next.
"You don't want to go to school every day?" Charles asked. "I thought you'd be looking forward to that. You'll make lots of new friends. I'm sure your mom is a very good teacher; I'd guess that you've picked up her style, but at school you'll have more teachers, different ones for different subjects and …"
As his voice trailed off, Alara wished she could peek inside to see her daughter's face.
"Wouldn't you like that?" he asked.
She found herself holding her breath as she waited to hear Zia's reply.
"I don't know and it doesn't matter."
"And why's that?"
"Because I don't know if I'll go to school now. When we were going to Oregon, Mom was going to get a job, so I'd have to go to a school. She thinks she can't leave me by myself, you know. She could; I can do things. I can do all the things I need to by myself."
Alara squeezed her eyes shut.
"I'm sure you can," said Charles. "But …"
Zia sighed loudly. "I think I'd like to go to school, but they make you go every day, don't they?"
Charles chuckled. "They do."
"And Mom doesn't know where we can be every day for a long time. She has to work, you know. And that means we go where the work is. Most people live in houses to be near their work. We live in the camper so we can be near wherever Mom's working next."
"And do you like that?"
