The Vineyard by Barbara Delinsky

her desk and taken a booklet from her personal stash. Returning to Otis’s desk, she put it down for him to see. It was the catalogue from Cambridge Heath, a private school that was known to cater to the learning-disabled children of local college professors.
    Olivia wasn’t a college professor—not by a long shot. She had never even been a college student, having graduated from high school by the skin of her teeth and gone straight to work. She considered herself an artist now—Otis’s description, long before hers. That was how she billed herself on the job queries she had sent out. She guessed that any school in the Cambridge area would have a handful of parents like her.
    Besides, Tess was the daughter of a college professor. Hadn’t Jared been on the faculty of UNC at the time of his death? That had to count for something.
    And if not, there were other schools. In fact, she realized excitedly, there was a school like Cambridge Heath in Providence. Providence was an up-and-coming city. Olivia had sent résumés to museums and art galleries there. Providence was only a short distance from Asquonset. It would be nice to be near Natalie when the summer was done.
    And, of course, there was the possibility that if things worked out at the vineyard, the summer job might evolve into something else—permanent gal Friday, social secretary. It was very promising.
    Not that she was counting on all that, but it never hurt to dream.
    Otis picked up the book and thumbed through, turning to the pages with Post-its. There he read what Olivia knew by heart. Yes, he could tell she had been dreaming. She had been dreaming far longer than she had known of Natalie Seebring.
    â€œWell, this is fine,” he said dryly. “You’ll be able to afford this school for one year. Then what?”
    Olivia refused to be deflated. “Either Tess will get a scholarship or I’ll take out a loan, but she has to
be
there first. Otherwise, I’m anobody. I don’t have connections. The state says Tess is getting everything she needs in public school, but she hates it there. There’s a good teacher for next year, but I have no guarantee she’ll get that one, and the teacher she had this year has set her so far back emotionally that the teacher she gets next year will have
twice
the job to do—and that’s
assuming
I can convince them to promote her.” She put a firm hand on the catalogue, feeling determined as never before, now that what she wanted so badly for Tess was within reach. “Tess needs to be in a school like this one. Don’t you see, Otis? I need this job. It’s our
chance.”
    But there was still a major hurdle to cross. It was all fine and good to talk about the job, all fine and good to think about private schools, all fine and good to think that maybe, just maybe her luck was turning—but Natalie still had to hire her.
    â€œI can make it happen,” Otis said, which was what Olivia was thinking herself.
    She nodded, then waited, barely breathing.
    â€œI want the money for you,” he said. “It’s the other that worries me. The dreaming.”
    â€œI’m not dreaming. I’m going after this job with my eyes wide open.”
    â€œAnd you wouldn’t love to be part of that family?”
    â€œOf course, I would. Who wouldn’t? But I’m not a Seebring. I’ll never
be
a Seebring.”
    â€œAs long as you understand that.”
    â€œI do, Otis. I
do
. You said it—this is a summer job. It’s a bridge between your job and … something else. If it turns out to be fun, I’ll have good memories, but that’s not the best part. The
best
part is that my daughter will have something she needs but wouldn’t otherwise have. I want that for her, Otis. Wouldn’t you, if she were yours?”

Four
 
    T WO WEEKS LATER , wearing new white shorts and sneakers, and a green and a blue blouse,