Page 23 of Sangria

“If I didn’t want to take you to my ranch, I would’ve told you no,” he says, closing the gap between us. My reflexes take over, and I launch myself into his arms. It takes him a moment before he’s cocooned me to his chest. It feels nice, but a bit overwhelming, to be hugging a man other than Darian or Van. But the difference is good. It’s welcoming.

“Thank you, Levi.”

“You’re welcome, Zara.”

We both pull away and shyly straighten our clothes. Not that they’re rumpled, but more out of awkwardness.

“I’ll call you in a bit,” he tells me. “I’ll have my publicist charter a flight, so no one knows you’re leaving.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I do,” he says with a grin. “Wait for my call.” He turns, leaving me standing on the edge of the pathway as I watch him walk away. Not once or twice, but three times I catch him looking over his shoulder at me until he disappears out of sight.

I find the nearest bench and sit, pulling my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around my legs. Joggers run by. Mom groups with strollers power walk by, chatting animatedly among themselves, unaware and not caring that I’m sitting on the bench here. That is why I like this park. No one cares who you are. To them, you’re just another person, enjoying the beauty of nature.

My eyes focus on the ground, as I get lost in my thoughts. My mind drifts to the day that I caught Van and the assistant going at it. The scene plays out like a technicolor dream, followed by him and Laura, even though those are completely made-up. I can’t help but picture him with every female I know after that. My stomach lurches and tears fall down my cheeks, but my heart doesn’t ache. The burn I had before is gone. I am angry though. I’m so pissed at Laura and her assistant for putting me through this. It’s not like they didn’t know he was married. Even if he came onto them, they should’ve said no.

But they wouldn’t. That doesn’t happen here. Everyone is out for themselves. Anything they can do to advance their career or social status. They don’t care who gets hurt in the process. I bury my head in the gap between my legs and chest and let the tears flow. Crying is supposed to be therapeutic, and maybe it is. This could be my way of purging Van from my system so I can move on.

I hadn’t thought about moving on until now. There are things I want out of my life and children are one of them. I’ve always seen myself as a mother, and if it’s not Van creating a family with me, there will be a man out there worthy enough of my love.

Is there a predetermined grace period that I have to wait before seeking out love? It’s not like I’m going to sign up for a dating app or start posting on social media that I’m an eager beaver looking for love. But I’m not going to hide either. If someone wants to take me on a date, I’m going to do it. And if I find someone I like, I’m going to ask him out. Van is doing it, so why can’t I?

Pulling my phone out, I take a picture of the scene across the pathway from me. The way the sun is beaming through the trees and hitting the flowery shrub that caught Levi’s attention earlier shows how beautiful life can be. With the image uploaded to my social media accounts with the caption of “Life is good,” I sit there and watch the comments roll in. Most of them are fans telling me that they love me. Some call Van a jerk, which makes me laugh. They truly have no idea, but will soon. Others are negative, telling me that Van is the best man out there.

My reading is interrupted by a phone call. Levi’s name is in black and white, and lacking a picture, which I must remedy as soon as possible.

“Hello?”

“Hey Zara,” he says.

“Hi.” I interrupt him before he can say anything else. I’m smiling, and I don’t know why. Levi and I are complete opposites and would never work outside of a friendship, yet I’m excited that he’s called me even though I knew that he would.

levi

Fourteen

As soon asI walk into the house, I call out for my mama. When she doesn’t answer, I follow the sound of happiness into the backyard where I find Barbara, my mother, and daughters having a grand ole time in the swimming pool. I glance at my watch to verify the time, knowing full well that the girls should be in school, and yet they’re not.

“Daddy,” Willow says as soon as she spots me. I step out onto the patio as she climbs out of the pool. The wet hug is welcomed, despite my clothes getting damp. “What are y'all doing home?”

Home. . . I sigh. I am torn about putting down roots in Los Angeles when we have a perfectly great home in Nashville. That is where I live, but understand that the girls are established here, especially Stormy.

“My meetin’ wasn’t intending to last all day. More importantly, why aren’t you both in school?” I cast a stern look over her shoulder at Stormy then to my mother. Barbara is happily sipping on some sort of drink and ignoring me.

“I wasn’t feeling well this morning is all,” Willow says. It’s only when she’s about to get into trouble, or she’s sad that her accent comes out. She has spent far too long out here and has all but lost a bit of charm in the way she speaks. Her voice dips down into that sweet child-like whine that was so effective when she was a toddler. Not so much now, except all I want to do is coddle her.

“But you’re feelin’ better to go swimming?” She looks at me sheepishly and shrugs. “And what about you, Stormy?”

“Menstrual cramps,” she yells loud enough for the neighbors to hear. “The water is helping ease them.”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I suck in a deep breath of the California smog. This is stuff I never had to deal with because Iris managed everything. When we divorced, I was set to hire a nanny so that the girls had a woman around all the time to help. I may have to consider that now, although both girls are a bit too old for that.

My mother finally looks at me. The smug look on her face is enough to tell me that she made the decision and I have to live with it. She has to know that something like this won’t fly. I get that she’s here to help, but the girls need to attend school, or there’s no reason for us to be here.

“Go back and swim,” I tell Willow before asking my mama and Barbara to follow me into the house.

“I know what you’re going to say, Levi,” my mama says in the most dramatic fashion possible.

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