Susan Mallery - The Summer Of Sunshine And Margot

She took a seat in one of the wingback chairs by the sofa. Alec handed her a glass, then took a seat opposite her.

“Any ghost sightings?” he asked.

“I’m not sure I believe in ghosts. Do you?”

“I have yet to see one.”

“And seeing is believing?”

“When it comes to ghosts, yes.”

She took a sip of her drink. The cognac was rich and smooth.

“Edna mentioned something about ancient texts,” she said. “That if I saw anything that looked like old paper to not touch it.”

One corner of his mouth twitched. “I assure you, you will not find ancient texts lying around. They are all cataloged and protected.”

“Whew. Because I was really worried. I wouldn’t want to get a sweaty glass ring on the one document that could further our understanding of a language.”

“That would be a tragedy. Now you can rest easy.”

“So is that what you do? Study languages?”

“I’m more interested in what the texts say than the language itself. What was considered so important that it had to be captured in the written word. Five thousand years ago, there weren’t any sticky notes. Back then a written message was deliberate. Paper had to be made by hand and it was a laborious process. Ink had to be created and then you had to find someone who knew how to read and write.”

“I never thought of it that way, but of course you’re right. Today language is careless. We think nothing of writing something down.”

“Exactly. There are still languages that we can’t decipher. One of my hobbies is trying to translate Indus script. The civilization existed from about 2600 BC to 1900 BC in the area of what we know as Pakistan and northwestern India. They were a thriving people with an export trade and several large towns, and then they were gone, leaving behind a written language we have yet to understand.”

“I didn’t know there were any written languages that hadn’t been translated.”

“There are several. Every year or so I take a few weeks to see if I can make any progress on Indus script.”

Okay, that was impressive. Her goal on the hobby front was to learn how to knit.

“Tell me how you do your work.”

She smiled. “That’s a very generalized question. Every client is different and I do my best to customize my approach for the situation. A businessperson wanting to learn cultural norms for a business trip to China is a very different proposition than someone who might be moving to Argentina for a promotion.”

“Do you know much about living in Argentina?”

“No.” She laughed. “That was an example. I could teach a basic course on business practices in Argentina, but I don’t know the nuances necessary for someone moving there. We have experts.”

“On Argentina?”

“On nearly every country. I’m more of a generalist.”

“Ah. You get the unusual requests.”

“When I’m lucky.”

He smiled at her. He had a nice smile and she liked his dark eyes. There was something very pleasant about Alec. He was a deliberate sort of person and she could appreciate that.

“Did my mother tell you she’s not one for technology? If you’re hoping she’ll do work online, you’re going to be disappointed.”

“I had a couple of workbooks printed and bound. We’ll see how those are received. In her case, I assumed we’d do a lot of talking and some role playing. I’m not sure where we’re starting, so until I know that, I can’t formulate a complete plan.”

“I’m imagining formal place settings at the dining room table.”

Margot laughed. “That will happen for sure. You can play along if you’d like. Many a client has been overwhelmed by the fish fork.”

“Not the dessert spoon?”

“You know about the dessert spoon?”

“Yes. It’s up by the dessert fork. You forget—I went to boarding school in Switzerland. I can handle a fish fork with the best of them.”

“Training every young man needs.”

He smiled. “I wouldn’t go that far but those lessons are ingrained.”

“Your father was Swiss?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“He was. A rich banker who met my mother at a party in London. Theirs was a brief but torrid affair with the unexpected result of her getting pregnant. She was twenty-four at the time and my father was in his early forties.”

“That is an age difference.”

“Yes, and neither of them wanted to get married. I’m not sure my father was all that interested in having children, although his parents were thrilled. My mother returned to LA to prepare for my birth.” He smiled. “I will admit that when I was little, she seemed almost magical. We were a team. She took me everywhere. There were no bedtimes, no rules. When I was four, she hired a tutor who traveled with us.”

“While no rules sounds nice, it’s not always comfortable.”

“I agree.”

She sipped her cognac. “So you made your own rules.”

He nodded.

“What about your father?”

“He never had any other children so I was his only heir. I saw him from time to time, but we weren’t all that close. I adored my paternal grandparents. I spent a few weeks with them every summer. By the time I was thirteen, I was ready to go to boarding school. My father told Bianca and that was that.”

She was sure Alec had been happy to leave his nomadic life for something more structured, but she couldn’t help wondering how Bianca had reacted to her only child living halfway around the world.

“Was that the last time you lived with her?” she asked.

“I would spend time with her on breaks.”

Like the trip to Paris where Bianca slept with his best friend.

“Your mother is a complex woman,” she said.

“She is. You have your work cut out for you.”

She glanced at her watch and was shocked to see it was nearly eleven. She rose.

“It’s late. Thank you for the cognac and the conversation.”

Alec stood. “You’re welcome. Good luck with everything. I’m around if you have any questions.”

She nodded. “Good night.”

She carried her glass into the kitchen, washed it, then made her way upstairs. When she reached her room, she thought about all she’d learned about Alec and Bianca and knew there was so much more to discover.

Chapter Five

Telling herself that everyone was scared on the first day of class wasn’t really helping. Sunshine alternated between wanting to throw up and simply turning her car around and heading back to Declan’s house. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t college material. No one had expectations that she was going to make anything of her life and no one would be surprised if she chickened out now.

All incredibly depressing thoughts that did nothing for her self-confidence, but certainly put her current circumstances in perspective. Was she really going to give up before she’d even started? Was she so pathetic she couldn’t face a beginner math class?

“I’m doing this,” she muttered to herself as she pulled into the sprawling parking lot at Pasadena City College. “I’m going to be just fine.”

That decided, Sunshine grabbed her backpack and slung it over her shoulder, then locked her car and started purposefully for her class.

She’d looked at a map online and had a basic idea of where to go. She joined throngs of other students making their way toward the various buildings. Some were by themselves, but several traveled in groups. She eyed the other women, checking out what they’d decided to wear on the cool, gloomy morning.

She was relieved to see her jeans, sweater and boots fit in just fine. At thirty-one she was older than nearly everyone she saw but at least she wasn’t wearing something inappropriate.