Page 49 of Sangria

“Zara,” Willow screeches as she runs toward her, only stopping when the two have collided with their arms wrapped around each other. If there was any hesitation in Willow’s acceptance of Zara being here, it’s definitely gone now.

“You remember Willow?” I ask, directing my question at Zara.

“I do. Did you have a nice flight? Are you hungry? I made French toast.”

“I’m not hungry,” Stormy says before she turns toward the hall that will lead to her bedroom. The three of us watch her go and all jump when the door slams shut.

“She’s PMSing,” Willow says. Zara and I both snicker at Willow’s assumption. “I’m starving.”

“Come on, let’s eat.” I motion for them both to follow me into the kitchen, where it’s decorated almost the same. I look quickly at Zara, who shrugs. I didn’t leave her a car, not that she couldn’t have one delivered to her, so I’m curious as to how she had all of this done. Barbara could’ve helped, but she still has reservations about Zara and me, and I can’t imagine she would extend services too much.

Zara takes over in the kitchen, plating up food for all of us. I half expect her to sit down at the table, but she disappears down the hall with a plate of food. I sit quietly and listen as she knocks on Stormy’s door. Surprisingly it opens, and a few words are exchanged, but I’m unable to decipher them.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I tell her as she returns to the kitchen and sits down.

“I did,” she says. “Barb and I had a long talk about everything: you, the girls, and business. The last thing I want to do is upset Stormy.”

“Stormy’s attitude is mine to deal with, Zara.”

She shakes her head. I catch her smiling at Willow, who is sharing the same sentiment. “If I’m going to be here, they both need to know that I’m here for them as well.”

My eyes pin to her eyes, but only briefly. I have to look away, afraid that I might shed a tear. Days. . . that is how long I’ve known this woman, and I’m already falling head over heels in love with her.

Glancing back at Willow, she’s still smiling as she stuffs her face with French toast doused in syrup. I shake my head, and they both laugh as if I’m the last one to get the joke. I’m not. Believe me. I know when I’m being ganged up on, and honestly, I love it. If Zara wants to be a part of our lives, she’s more than welcome.

Since Zara prepared breakfast, I man the cleanup duties in the kitchen while Willow cleans off the table. I turn on some music, making it loud enough to carry throughout the house, and start a dance party with Willow once she’s completed her chore. In the corner, Zara is snickering, commenting on my moves, but Willow is laughing. She’s giggling so hard that she has tears rolling down her face.

And when Stormy comes out to see what all the fuss is about, I take her by her hands and pull her into the kitchen, and dance with her. She balks at first, but gives in soon enough and starts shaking her hips right along to the music. When I look at Zara, she’s videotaping us and if I’m not mistaken, bobbing her head up and down to the beat of the song.

When it’s over, I collapse in a heap, onto the counter, panting as if I’ve just run a marathon.

“Daddy, how do you expect to go on tour if you’re an old man?” Stormy says in between fits of laughter.

“Daddy’s not old, Stormy.”

“Thanks, Willow,” I say, half out of breath.

“He’s ancient,” Willow says, giggling even louder.

“You guys are very funny.” I try to concentrate on loading the dishwasher, but the disc jockeys on the local country station are mentioning my name. I go to turn it off, but Zara tells me that she wants to hear what they’re saying.

“Are the rumors true regarding Levi Austin and Reverend Sister’s lead singer, Zara Phillips?”

“Could be. He spent a month out in Los Angeles, right about the time she filed for divorce, and now she’s here. I’d say it’s pretty serious.”

I scoff at the radio, but Zara laughs. “We’ve known each other for a week,” she points out as I nod.

“Daddy says never to listen to anything you hear on the radio, and that only if it comes from the horse’s mouth should you believe it,” Stormy says.

My mouth drops open in shock. I thought for sure she would storm out of here, mumbling something about how I’ve ruined her life.

“Zara and I met at the video shoot, not any time before that. You know I wouldn’t lie to you, Stormy. I know that things are movin' fast for everyone, but if I wasn’t sure about Zara, I wouldn’t have you and your sister here right now.”

Stormy smiles as she looks from Zara to me. It’s the first genuine smile I have seen on her face since before her mother passed away. I’m not going to take it for granted either because I know women. . . well, at least the Austin ones, and their attitudes can switch on the fly.

I pull Stormy into my arms and kiss the top of her head before scooping up a handful of dish soap bubbles and blowing them on her. She squeals and proceeds to do the same, but doesn’t throw them at me, but at Zara. It’s from that point that the first annual Austin/Phillips bubble war starts.

zara

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