"Come and take a look," I said after about half an hour, and she hiked up her dress and ran over. I clicked through the pictures, pointing out the ones I thought were best.
"When you're putting together the portfolio, use two or three for each outfit," I suggested. "Less is more, you know? And go with the wow shot. This one," I said, stopping at a shot of her standing in some impossible way where her long, slim body curved for miles from head to toe. "And this one." The shot of her glaring at me, eyes murderous.
She grinned, looking like what she was all of a sudden--a girl playing dress-up.
"Let me see." Daniel came over and stood behind me. "Shit," he murmured, his chin somewhere around my ear, his body pressed against my back. "She's beautiful." His breath tickled my hair, and my sad empty uterus tugged with attraction. Of course it did. He was Daniel the Hot Firefighter. Every uterus in the entire borough felt the same way.
I clicked to the next photo. "This one's nice," he said, and my entire left side shivered. Click. "But this one's slutty." Click. "Slutty. Slutty. Slutty. Beautiful." There went my left side again, buzzing with lust.
"Daniel, you don't get a say," Lizzie said. "Ignore him, Kate."
Yes, yes, good advice. After all, I was a widow who shouldn't be lusting after Brooklyn's Bravest, which was like saying "See that Border collie puppy? Do not think it's adorable."
Lizzie went to change again, and Max went with her, taking her makeup case for her girl-next-door look. When she came out, her hair smooth and parted on the side, a cropped top under a cute tweed jacket, skinny jeans and adorable high-heeled ankle boots, she looked like someone else entirely.
We walked to a different area to change up the setting.
"Let's have her lie down on that bench and let her hair stream down," Max suggested.
"Nope. Slutty," Daniel said.
Max sighed.
"Let's just go with sweet and happy," I said. "Think Maybelline or Dove soap, that kind of thing. Imagine you're waiting for a guy you like, and this is your first date."
Daniel scowled. "How about if she imagines she's about to go into the convent and can't wait to turn her life over to God?"
"You're such a loser," Lizzie said. "Okay. Waiting for boyfriend, check."
But when I held the camera up to my eye, I paused.
There it was, the little hint of what I couldn't see without the camera. While Lizzie was smiling, her eyes were different. She glanced to her left and fixed her smile more firmly. A corner of her mouth twitched almost imperceptibly.
She was worried. Nervous.
I clicked the shutter button. Looked up at her and smiled. "Sweetness and light," I said, hoping to put her at ease. "You two will get ice-cream cones. He has a surprise for you, and it's a kitten! Aw! A kitten, how cute!"
She tried to look excited, but whereas she'd totally brought it earlier, her face was weird, shoulders tense.
"Does she have a boyfriend?" I murmured to Daniel, who was standing at my side.
"She better not."
"Does she, though?"
"Lizzie!" he barked. "You got a boyfriend?"
I sighed. There was a reason I'd asked him, not her.
"No," she said. "Not that it's any of your business." But she started to pick at her fingernail, then stopped. Tried to readjust, but her neck muscles were stiff. She glanced to the left again.
I put the camera down and went to sit next to her. "Does he come to the park a lot?"
She looked at me for a second, then her eyes filled with tears. "I broke up with him, and he's...he's not taking it well. I think he's...stalking me."
Daniel was at her side in a flash, kneeling at her feet. "Who? Who's the guy? Where does he live? What do you mean, not taking it well? Did he threaten you? Want me to talk to him? Let's go right now."
"No! Daniel, you'll just make thing worse." She looked at me. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be stupid," Daniel growled.
"He's probably not going to do anything." Tears spilled over and ran down her perfect cheeks.
"I'm less than reassured," Daniel said. "Come on. Tell me. Right now."
Lizzie looked at me, rather than her brother. "It's just...like, I was walking home the other day, and I heard him laughing, but when I turned around, I didn't see anyone. And then... I don't know. My phone rings at two in the morning, and it's 'Unknown Caller.' He never liked the idea of me trying to be a model. Yesterday, there was a note in my locker that said I was ugly."
Daniel started to say something, but I put my hand on his arm to stop him.
"You know," I told Lizzie gently, "if I had a pesky ex and a big strong firefighter brother, I'd probably work that angle."
"Listen to her. She's smart," Daniel said.
"I just want him to leave me alone. I don't think he'd...do anything. You know. Hurt me."
Daniel's arm turned from old-fashioned hard to iron under my hand. I squeezed his biceps to keep him calm (and for the thrill of it). "Right," I said. "But even if he's harmless and just being a jerk, it can't hurt for him to know you have this guy, you know what I mean?"
She picked her cuticle again. "Yeah. I guess."
"So maybe your brother should have a word with him."
"She's right," Daniel said, standing up. "Let's go."
"Daniel! Not this second! I'm getting my pictures done!"
"What's more important, you idiot?" he snapped. "Pictures, or your safety?"
"God! I knew I shouldn't have said anything!"
"Okay, how about this?" I asked. "Does this boy live fairly close?"
"Yes. Over on 8th Avenue."
"Let's finish this part of the shoot. Then you and Daniel can go talk to the guy, Max and I will get a coffee, and we'll meet you at Daniel's after."
"Perfect," Daniel said, crossing his Thor-like arms.
"No. Please come with us," Lizzie said. "Daniel will beat Ewan up, and then the police will come and Daniel will get fired and Mom will have a fit and tell me how she'd only planned to have four kids, not five."
"Ewan?" Daniel said. "You dated a guy named Ewan? You didn't sleep with him, did you? Because that would break Ma's heart, and then I have to kill him, and you will go to the convent."
"Daniel, shush," I said. "You're not in a position to criticize names. Didn't you date a girl named Waterfall once?"
He glared at me. "I don't remember."
"Of course you don't, you slut," Lizzie said.
Max sighed, which silenced the rest of us. "Let me fix your makeup, honey. Then your brother can go scare the shit out of this boy, and we'll all be in the mood for drama shots."
"Like there's not enough drama with her already," Daniel muttered.
But Lizzie perked up, and within fifteen minutes, I had some gorgeous shots of her, her shiny hair and lovely smile.
"You just glow in this one," I said, showing her the shot. "And your eyes here are gorgeous."
Daniel was pacing, his arms crossed, which made for some first-rate arm porn. "Can we get going here? Someone threatened my little sister. I'd like to take care of it."
The little sister sighed. "Chill, Daniel." Now that the problem had a solution, she seemed back to normal.
Max glanced at his watch. "As much as I'd love to come and stand in the background like the angel of death," he whisper-said, which was exactly what I'd pictured, "I have to pick up the boys from soccer."
"Okay. I can handle the rest without you. Thanks, Max."
"Talk to you tomorrow." He walked off. A nearby toddler looked at him and ran wailing to her mommy, making me smile. Good old Max.
I put my camera in the bag. "You sure you guys want me to come?"
"Yes!" Lizzie said. "Please. If you don't mind."
"No, no, it's fine. It's kind of..." Fun, I was going to say. But it was, sort of. So much better than being back home.
Daniel grabbed my bag and the light reflector. He already had Lizzie's suitcase. "Want me to carry something?" I offered.
"Please. I'm a New York City firefighter. I could carry all this, you, her and a German shepherd."
"Be careful. My ovaries are melting," I said, getting a snort from Lizzie. "And are you a firefighter? I somehow forgot that."
"Right?" she said. "I don't think he owns a shirt that doesn't have FDNY on it."
"Hush up and lead the way, Lizzie," he ordered.
Despite the fact that we were on our way to deliver a verbal and hopefully not physical ass-whupping (or because of it...there was something very appealing about the outraged Brooklyn male protecting one of his own), I felt unexpectedly...happy. I snapped a few candids of Lizzie, who was bouncing around like a puppy now, swinging around a lamppost, hopping up on a rock, even doing a cartwheel on the grass.
We came out of the park into my old 'hood. Oh, the buildings.
There must be a term for us real estate junkies, who cooed over every building, every door, every planter. I took a few pictures of them, too, the gentle brownstones. A boy of about seven or eight skateboarded past me wearing a David Bowie T-shirt and pink-printed jeans. Ah, the hipster spawn.
When was the last time I'd been back in Park Slope? Two months? More? Nathan and I had come out for the biannual dinner to benefit the Re-Enter Center in February, and he'd grumbled about the traffic on the West Side Highway. It was one of his rare bad moods; the weather wasn't great, and parking, of course, was nonexistent, and the dinner was not the type of gala he usually went to; it was a spaghetti supper in the cafeteria filled with parolees.
Daniel hadn't been there; he'd been working, and I remember wishing he'd been there to meet Nathan and see that I was happily married. And maybe--maybe--to show Nathan that I had an extremely good-looking friend. You know how we women are.
Speaking of the man, the legend, the hot firefighter, Daniel was half a block ahead of me, his long legs and fury making him a lot faster. I ran to catch up. Lizzie pointed to the door and then cringed as Daniel ran up the stairs and pounded on the front door.
A young man opened the door. "Is this him?" Daniel asked his sister.
"Yes," Lizzie said.
Daniel grabbed him by the shirt, earning a yelp, and hauled him onto the stoop. Closed the door behind him so no parents would interfere (I assumed). The boy was cute, already manly but like a blade of grass compared to Daniel.
Daniel gave him a shake. "Did you threaten my little sister?" he growled. "This angel? This beautiful girl who means the world to me? Did you scare her somehow? Did you in any way make her life less wonderful for even one minute?"
The boy's eyes were wide, and he wisely opted not to struggle. "I...uh--Hey, Elizabeth, um, I... No? I mean, if I did, I didn't mean to?"
"What did he say to you again, Lizzie?"
"He said he'd make me sorry for breaking up with him."
Daniel gave Ewan a disappointed look. "Well, I'd say that sounds like making her life less wonderful, Ewan. What did you mean by that?"
"Um...I don't know. Nothing?"
"So you didn't mean you'd hurt her or scare her or follow her or bully her or spread rumors about her or make her life less wonderful in any way."
"No," squeaked Ewan. "I...I wouldn't do any of those things."
"So you were just hurt because she's moved on."
"Yeah."
"And she's perfectly safe in every conceivable way a person can be safe, is that right?"
"Yes."
"Did you know that in addition to me, she has forty-nine other firefighters in Park Slope who care very deeply about her personal happiness and safety? And not just that, Ewan. Did you know that we firefighters consider each other brothers and sisters? We do. So in a way, Lizzie here has more than ten thousand firefighters here in the greatest city in the world who are her brothers and sisters. Isn't that great?"
"Um...wow, yeah, that's great."
"It is great, Ewan," Daniel said. "It's so great. Lizzie is probably the most loved and protected girl in all of New York, don't you agree?"
"Yes."
"Is there something you'd like to say to my precious, angelic, perfect baby sister, Ewan?"
"Sorry?"
"Now, Ewan. You can do better than that."
I had to admit, this was really fun.
Ewan looked at Lizzie and swallowed. "I'm sorry if I scared you. I'd never do anything, not really. I was just..." He looked down. "Sad."
"And in the future, you'll just let yourself be sad, Ewan. Feel the feelings and leave my sister alone. Got it, son?"
"Yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes, sir."
"If anything happens to her," Daniel said, "if a dog bites her, if a bridge falls on her head, if she's attacked by a shark, I'm holding you responsible." He looked at his little sister. "We good here?"
She nodded, smiling.
"Okay, you can go, Ewan," Daniel said, and the kid scrambled back inside the door.
Daniel and Lizzie came down the steps. "So much testosterone," I said to Lizzie, getting a smile from Daniel. "Where does he keep it all?"
"In barrels behind the garage," she said. "Can we still do the drama shots?"
"My place is way on the other side of the park," Daniel said, hefting her suitcase.
"So?" she said. "I thought you were Superman. Just fly us there."
"You know what? I'll call my tenants and see if they're in," I said. "My old place is three blocks from here. Maybe we can use it if they don't mind."
I texted my tenants, both doctors, who were at work. I'd given them a nice price on the rent, since they were both residents in pediatric oncology, and they always included a nice note with their rent payment about how much they loved the place. Take as long as you need, the husband texted.
So Daniel, Lizzie and I headed over to 4th Street. I glanced at him as we passed the house he used to live in with Calista, but he didn't look at it. If Lizzie was aware that he used to live there--she would've been a little kid back when he was married--she didn't say anything.
Funny, how simultaneously familiar and odd it felt to be back in my old building. The walnut railing felt as smooth and cool as ever, but I hadn't set foot in here since December. As we reached the third floor, it smelled different--a hint of curry and cardamom, and just the smell of someone else's house. I opened the door.
Home, yet not.
Different furniture, bright tapestry wall-hangings, a row of potted herbs on the kitchen windowsill. In place of my pink-and-green couch, there was a futon, and the TV sat on the floor amid a nest of wires and an Xbox. Still, the view across the street, through the branches of the locust tree, grabbed my heart and squeezed.
I missed it here.
"Okay," I said, clearing my throat, "why don't you change, Lizzie? The bathroom's down the hall."
*
An hour later, we had some great photos of the chameleonlike Lizzie, who'd opted for some very well-done Kabuki-style makeup; white skin, white lashes, black eye shadow and red, red lips. Daniel sighed wearily, muttered something about how she was playing with dolls not that long ago and stared out the window.
"Thank you so much for doing this," she said when she was back in her street clothes. "Here's your check. Totally worth it."
Daniel reached over, ripped up the check and said, "I got this."
"Really? Daniel! Just when I thought I hated you, I totally love you." She punched him in the stomach. Fondly.
He rolled his eyes. "I'm putting you in a cab."
"Mom thinks you're coming for dinner."
"I'm not. I'm taking her out." He jerked his head at me.
"You are?" I asked.
"Yeah. You free?"
"That was beautiful, Daniel," Lizzie said. "You've got game, big bro."
"Shut up. Her husband just died."
"Oh, my God! I'm so sorry!" Lizzie said, covering her mouth with her hand.
I shrugged, a little sad that the specter of my widowhood had been brought in. "Thanks."
Daniel looked at me. "Can I buy you
dinner? Since you put up with me and my sister all day long? If you don't have plans, that is."
I hesitated. It sounded a little...date-ish. Then again, it was just Daniel the Hot Firefighter, and I'd aged out of False Alarm status fifteen years ago. "That would be nice," I said.
He smiled, and a lovely warmth filled my chest.
I wasn't sure that was allowed for a grieving widow, but it sure felt good.
We put Lizzie and her suitcase in a cab, and I assured her I'd get her the photos as soon as possible. I waved as she drove off. "Great girl," I said.
"Ah, she's not horrible, anyway."
"Didn't you use the words perfect and angelic?"
He laughed. "Maybe. You think she can be a model?"
"I don't know. I mean, in my opinion, sure. She has a lot of looks, understands angles, and she's definitely beautiful."
"She's watched that dumb modeling show since the beginning of time."
"I also watch that show. That's quality television."
He looked down at me and grinned. "Wanna go to Porto's? I'm starving."
The old hangout where Paige and I had spent so many evenings. "Sure."
A soft spring night, walking through my old neighborhood with Daniel the Hot Firefighter, who was not just hot but insisted on carrying my stuff, really good Italian food ahead...it was a field trip from my life. I could feel the sadness waiting for me once I crossed the Harlem River and headed back to Cambry-on-Hudson, but for now...for now, I was okay.
Porto's was exactly the same, thank God. It was still pretty early, before six, so we got a table. "Good to see you," Al said, the eponymous owner. "You want wine?"
"Um...sure."
"I'll get the wine list." He squeezed my shoulder--maybe someone had told him about Nathan--and walked away.
This would be my first alcohol since Nathan had died. Four weeks. Now that it was really, really proven that I wasn't pregnant, I could have a glass of wine.
Strange, to miss something that never was. To miss even the remotest possibility that I was pregnant with my dead husband's baby.
"So how you doing?" Daniel asked.
"Okay," I said, snapping out of my fog. "I mean... I don't really know. Today was a good day. Other days are...not good. How's that for eloquent?"
He nodded, looking right at me. That was something that was uncommon lately; people couldn't bear to look me in the eye.
On Second Thought Page 17