Dramatic, yes, but she didn’t know what else to do. This was her first experience of having her heart crushed into a million pieces. It felt like she would never be able to pull herself from the grief. Her brain kept repeating that last conversation with him.
Do you love me?
I care about you.
Not the same.
Yet it wasn’t those words that broke her heart.
“Robby,” her mother began. “Will those paintings be ready for pickup this afternoon?”
“Of course, cariño.”
“Thank goodness.” She let out a sigh of relief. “Margo and the rest of the committee are driving me nuts over this charity auction. They might have all the time in the world since they spend their days at the club, having brunch and organizing social events, but I have a full-time job.”
“What charity event?” Zara asked.
“Oh, that’s right.” Mom tsked. “I forgot to tell you, Franklin Park Elementary is having a charity auction to raise funds so they don’t have to shut down the arts department.
Zara immediately sat at attention. “What do you mean shut it down?”
Franklin Park was a local public elementary school in one of the poorer neighborhoods of Santa Fe. During her senior year in high school, she volunteered there as an after-school painting teacher. The program had been underfunded badly then, and the school desperately needed a lot of extra hands and supplies so she had been happy to help.
“There just isn’t enough funding, mija,” Roberto said glumly. “Especially these days.”
“Yeah, but I bet the football team is getting new uniforms,” she grumbled. “They can’t shut down the arts department. There are lots of talented kids out there who could really benefit from those classes.” That would also include all the arts, like music and drama. “Not to mention, the parents especially need those after school programs because they can’t afford to leave work early to pick up their kids.”
“That’s why we’re having this charity auction, honey,” her mother said. “Hopefully, your Papá’s paintings will fetch enough at the auction to keep the program running for at least until the end of the year. Thank you for agreeing to paint something, darling.”
Reaching out, he placed a hand over hers. “Anything for you, cariño. You should have asked me in the first place. What’s the use of having a famous painter for a husband if he can’t do things like this for you.”
The worry lines on her forehead disappeared, and the glow on her face made her appear years younger. “I know you’re very busy. I appreciate it very much, darling.”
A knot of envy grew in Zara’s stomach.
I wish…
Her parents certainly weren’t perfect, and neither was their marriage. However, they made it work, despite their differences.
The love between them was genuine.
The real thing.
Why shouldn’t she have something like that?
Why shouldn’t she be someone’s first choice, rather than be second best?
“Honey, are you okay?”
“Huh?” She looked up from her plate of pancakes.
“I was asking you if you wanted to come to the nail salon with me later today.” Mom shot her a concerned look. “Are you sure it’s just jet lag?” Reaching over, she touched her palm to Zara’s forehead. “You don’t have a temperature or anything.”
“I’m fine, Mom, I’m just?—”
A bright, blinding flash of red light cut her off mid-sentence. For a moment, she thought it was some kind of catastrophe—a plane crash, a bomb, or gods forbid, something evil had followed her back from Vale Crossing or whatever dimension she passed through between worlds.
When her vision cleared, however, she wished it were any of those things.
