“Well, maybe once.” John looked from side to side. “I adjusted the sensitivity so high, you can practically blow on it and it will dunk the man.”
“John, is that any way to treat the pastor?”
John winked. “Why not? It’s for charity.”
“I might just go and rescue the man by readjusting your adjustment.”
“Don’t bother. Dennis Cowen already figured it out and fixed it.”
“Wise man.”
“Spoilsport is what I say.” John chuckled at his own humor.
“I take it it’s your turn next in the dunking pool?” Wayne suggested.
“Now what would be the fun in seeing an old man getting dunked?”
“Plenty, especially if the pastor is the first to take a shot at ya.”
John roared. “I’ll fess up later, after dinner.”
“You do that.” Wayne winked. “Well, I’ve got to find Jess. I promised her we’d have our picture taken.”
“Heard you creamed the pastor’s mother earlier.”
Wayne felt the back of his neck get as red as a boiled lobster. “It was an accident.”
“Seems a handyman like yourself might find the time to put some windows in those doors so others won’t run into the same fate,” John suggested.
“Already thought of it. Finding the time will be the problem.”
“I hear ya.” John looked past Wayne’s shoulder. “I’ve got to find Rita. I’m looking forward to dinner and want to get our seats.”
“Later.” Wayne waved and walked toward the events area before John came up with something else to chat about. He was a nice guy and all, but John knew how to bend a man’s ear.
Wayne waved at Billy Hawkins, who was leading his old paint horse around the church’s perimeter, giving pony rides. It carried a young girl in blond hair and pigtails whose smile showed a mixture of joy and fear. He moved farther back toward the dunking pool where a gang of people had gathered around one shriveled-up pastor. His blue lips proved he’d been dunked one too many times. “Better dry off, Pastor.” When Wayne was the youth director, he’d seen the inside of the tank one too many times.
Pastor Jason smiled. “I see you aren’t risking it.”
“No, sir. I promised Jessica a picture.”
He shivered. “Ah, good plan.”
His wife, Marie, came up beside him with an oversized towel and wrapped him up. They were an interesting couple. They appeared very content with their relationship, and that’s what mattered most, Wayne reckoned.
“Daddy!”
He turned in the direction of his daughter’s voice. She held up a cream pie and pointed at him. Across the table was Jess’s best friend from high school, Randi. “Don’t you dare. You said you wanted this picture.”
She placed the pie back on the bake sale table and scooted up beside him. “Had to tease you. Everyone’s talking about how you creamed the pastor’s mother. Nearly ruined her favorite camera, too.” She leaned back and called out to Randi, “Call me?”
“All right.” Randi waved and headed in the opposite direction.
Wayne cupped his hand over the one Jess placed in the crook of his elbow. “Perhaps we better not bother Mrs. Russell.”
“Afraid she has a pie waiting for you?”
“Since when did you become a wicked woman?” he teased. Playful banter had been a part of his and Jess’s relationship ever since she was five.
“Learned it from a master.” She kissed his cheek.
They strolled toward the photo booth. “It’s good to see you. How are your final papers coming?”
“I’ve got a serious case of senioritis.”
“How so?”
“I can’t concentrate. Thank the Lord I’m managing somehow. But Dr. Wilson is probably longing for this class of seniors to graduate. Soon.”
Wayne wrapped her in his arms. “Like you said, it’s senioritis. And while I didn’t go to college, I do recall my senior year in high school.”
“Me, too. This is worse. Big time.”
He kissed the top of her head. “You’ll get through it. I love you, princess.”
She leaned up and kissed him again. “I love you, too.”
They stopped at the small table to register for their photo. Misty Williams, a gal who was in the junior high youth group he’d led a few years ago, smiled and blew a pink bubble that nearly covered her face. “Hey ya, Mr. Kearns, want your picture taken?”
❧
Dena spotted Wayne Kearns through her digital camera’s 300mm zoom lens long before he saw her. He was wrapped in the arms of a girl half his age. He could be her father! she wanted to scream. Observing them a bit longer than necessary, Dena saw they truly loved each other. Forgive me, Lord. Who am I to say who should and shouldn’t be together? Jason spoke highly of Wayne and cherished his ministry with the church. After taking a few pictures of the couple, she lowered the camera. It was the only way to get some candid shots in between the portrait pictures.
“Mommy, I don’t want my picture taken.”
She knelt down to the five-possibly six-year-old girl with reddish brown hair. Dena rolled her shoulders and fired off a prayer. At fifty-two, there were many reasons she no longer did studio work—and dealing with testy children was one of them. But for Jason and the Lord, she could endure anything. “What’s a pretty little girl like you doing here?”
The young child scrunched up her face.
Dena mimicked the girl. “You don’t have to have your picture taken, but it would be a shame if the church directory didn’t have a picture of such a pretty seven-year-old.”
“I’m five,” she corrected, and a smile lifted the corners of her lips.
“My, my. You definitely look mature. A fine young lady if ever I saw one.”
“Really?”
“Really.” Dena extended her hand to shake the child’s. “Sorry I can’t take your picture, but it was a pleasure meeting you.”
Hesitantly, the freckled girl extended her hand. “You can take my picture, if you’d like.”
“Why, thank you, Miss… . What is your name?”
“Clarissa.”
“Clarissa. A pretty name to go with a pretty face. Come, sit right here and I’ll take your picture. Then you can go back to the church fair and play the games. What’s your favorite game, Clarissa?” Dena adjusted the camera on the tripod and changed the f-stop for the now-glowing child. In her hand Dena held the remote attached to the camera. She smiled. In the eighties, when she’d purchased the cable release, it was state-of-the-art. Today it seemed old-fashioned—a simple cable with a piston and a push button on the end.
“I like the ring toss. I got a teddy bear.”
Click. Dena fired off a fast round of several frames. “Wow, you must be really good. I’ve never managed to get a ring on one of those posts. How did you do it?”
Clarissa’s features changed to a thoughtful pose. Click. Dena took another picture.
“Daddy says it’s in the wrist. He taught me.” She beamed.
Click. “Well, your daddy must be pretty special. Smile for the camera.”
Clarissa glowed. Dena clicked off two more shots. “All done.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Can I see the picture now?”
“No, sweetheart. This camera only takes pictures with film.”
“Daddy’s camera shows you the picture right away.”
Dena chuckled and lifted the camera she was wearing around her neck for that occasional digital shot. “This camera works like your daddy’s.”
“Oh.” Clarissa narrowed the distance between her eyebrows.
Clarissa’s mother called out, “Come now, Clarissa, others are waiting.”
Dena turned to Wayne Kearns and his…girlfriend? Wife? “What can I do for you this evening? The standard picture for the church or something more?”
“Jess and I would like to have a family portrait done.”
F
amily portrait. He married the girl? Well, I suppose that’s the proper thing to do. Forgive me, Lord. I’m doing it again. What is it about this man that unnerves me so? Possibly the fear of another pie attack, she reasoned. “Fine. Sit back here. I’ll take the one for the church directory first. Did Misty show you the possible backgrounds?”
“Yes.” He motioned for Jess to sit down, then stood behind her.
Dena looked through the lens of the camera as he placed his hands lovingly on the beautiful young woman’s shoulders. “I’m sorry,” Dena said. “Would you mind sitting, Wayne? You’re too tall for Jess’s height in the chair. The picture would be unbalanced.”
“No problem,” he answered.
Jess popped up from the chair. “See, I told you for years you were too tall. It has nothing to do with me being short.”
Years? Just how young was she when he married her? Dena blinked away the thoughts and arranged the couple. “Place your hands on his shoulders like so,” she instructed.
Jess obeyed.
“Relax a bit, Mr. Kearns.”
“He hates having his picture taken,” Jess supplied.
“Oh, do I need to tell you how pretty you are?”
Wayne’s eyebrows shot up in shocked surprise.
Not funny! Dena chastised herself as she went behind her camera to refocus. I can’t believe I said that. She wished she had an old Cirkut camera so she could drape its dark cloth over her head and hide.
Wayne crossed his arms.
Great. Real professional, Dena. “Okay, where are those smiles I saw earlier?” Dena coaxed.
Jess massaged Wayne’s shoulders.
He reached up and patted Jess’s hands, splashing a grin across his face that could charm any woman. “I’m doing this for you, honey.”
Lord, help me, I’m attracted to a married man. She glanced down at his ring finger. Nothing. She glanced up at Jess’s. A small silver band encircled it. He didn’t buy her gold? Who is this guy?
“Thanks, Dad.” Jess kissed the top of his head.
“Dad?” The word tumbled from Dena’s lips before she could stop it. Heat warm enough to be a hot flash rose across her cheeks. But this had nothing to do with hormones.
Or did it?
Three
Dena moved through the last of her customers as quickly as possible. As much as she would like a lobster dinner, she’d decided not to step foot in the church. She’d made a perfect fool of herself today. Tromping through the Florida Everglades fighting off alligators seemed more desirable than being here on the rocky coast of Maine.
Jason and Marie had been encouraging her to move up here. She’d even started to pack up her condo in Boston. But today proved she belonged in the city. Lots of people, no one knows who you are, and you can live out your embarrassing moments in private. She’d been offered more pieces of cream pie today than there were stars in the sky.
She put the last of her equipment in her backpack, collapsed the tripod, and headed for the car. Dena slammed the trunk closed and leaned against the back end, inhaling the cool night air. The stars played off a deep sea of midnight blue.
“Mrs. Russell.”
Dena closed her eyes. She knew Wayne’s voice. It rolled down her spine like the water rushing over her shoulders in the hot springs of North Carolina.
“I’m sorry about earlier today.”
She didn’t turn to greet him. “It was an accident, Mr. Kearns. Don’t think a thing of it.”
“Oh, I’ll be hearing about how I creamed the pastor’s mother for the rest of the year, I reckon.”
Dena held back a giggle.
“I also apologize for the confusion in the photo booth.”
She turned and faced him now. There he stood, six feet tall, with rugged shoulders and a face so handsome even the darkness couldn’t cloak it. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I would assume she was anything but your daughter.”
He took a step forward, his hands behind his back. His teeth flashed in a bright smile that set her insides quivering. Stop these foolish thoughts, she reprimanded herself, fighting for some semblance of control.
“It’s flattering that you’d think someone as beautiful as Jess would be attracted to me.”
“Actually, I was more concerned with something Jason had said about you working with the youth—”
Wayne let out a guffaw, then stopped the laughter. “I’m sorry. You’re not from around here, so you wouldn’t know she’s my daughter. Jess is a senior at Gordon College.”
“Congrats.”
“I’m proud of her, as you probably could tell. Look, I figured you’re feeling embarrassed enough, so I brought you something.” He handed her a Styrofoam box. “I hope you like lobster.”
“Thank you.” She accepted the container. “I love it.”
He glanced at the church, then back at her. “Great. Well, I hope you come and visit Squabbin Bay again sometime. Perhaps at a time when you can relax and not spend the day working.”
“Actually, I’m staying for a few days.” Now why did I tell him that?
“Wonderful. Enjoy your visit.” He headed back to the church. “Oh, just for the record, you did a great job raising that boy of yours.”
“Thank you.” Jason had grown to be a fine man, and it was nice hearing it from the people the Lord had placed under his shepherding care. Perhaps she could move here after all.
She drove to the small cottage she’d been renting for the past couple of months. At the time it seemed like the logical thing to do. Admittedly, she’d only been able to visit twice. Her cell phone rang. “Hello?”
“Hey, Mom, I heard you were up at Jason’s this weekend.”
“Chad, where are you?” As a commercial pilot, her youngest son kept a schedule that always had him on the move.
“Fifty miles away. I’m coming up with someone I’d like you to meet.”
Her grin broadened. Chad had been talking about Brianne for two years, but they’d only started dating a year ago. With him flying all over the country, it was hard for them to spend any real time together. “I have a spare room at the cottage, but you’ll be bunking on the couch.”
“Not too lumpy, I hope.”
“Don’t know. Never slept on it.”
“Just came off a five-day trip. I could sleep on a rock. I was hoping to get up in time for Jason’s church fair. How’s it going? Is it over?”
“Fine. I had no idea that many people lived in Squabbin Bay. I left before it finished. I’m on my way to the cottage.”
“Run out of film?”
Dena turned down the dirt road that led to her cottage. “Me? Never. Do you know how to get here?”
“More or less. I’ll call you when I’m in town, and you can give me directions.”
“Sure. I’ll make up the bed for Brianne.”
“Thanks, Mom. She’s looking forward to meeting you.”
She could hear the joy in her son’s voice. Dena’s confidence in the Lord that this was the right gal for Chad rose another notch. “I’m looking forward to meeting her, too. See you soon, son.”
Dena pulled up to the remote, weathered, shingled cottage overlooking a small inlet. The moonlight danced on the water, and a whiff of salty air brushed past her nose. The powerful pull of the ocean renewed her as the surf crashed on the shore below.
Taking in a deep breath, she sighed and went into the quaint cottage. It had two small bedrooms, a bath, and a simple kitchen that opened into the living room. A modest table divided the two rooms. The cottage also sported a porch, which, at first, Dena had wished wasn’t screened in, until she met her match in mosquitoes, black flies, and the numerous other flying insects. This seemed particularly ironic when she considered all the wilds she’d photographed. She set the camera backpack on the counter, made the bed in the guest room, and laid out some bedding for Chad near the couch. Thankfully, the house came fully furnished.
Moments later she set some water in the teakettle to boil and opened the
dinner Wayne Kearns had packed for her. Lobster salad set on a bed of romaine lettuce. A fresh bun of Portuguese sweet bread and some green grapes rounded out her meal. “Perfect.” She dove her fork in.
Her cell phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Mom, we just passed the church and are heading east on Main Street.”
Dena gave directions between mouthfuls. When she finished eating, her stomach gurgled. She had polished off the church meal and began scavenging through the refrigerator looking for something more. A black and furry container sat in the back of the fridge, something from her last visit. With the tips of her fingers, she grabbed the furry creature and tossed it, container and all.
“Mom, I see a fork in the road.”
“Back up; you missed the drive. There’s no marker, and it’s really tough to find.” She tapped the refrigerator door shut. “Did you guys bring any food?”
“Just some junk food for the road. Why, are you hungry?” Chad asked.
“Starving!”
Chad laughed. “Worked hard, didn’t you?”
Admittedly, she was famished after any full day of shooting. Her appetite always increased when she worked hard. Thankfully, weight had never been an issue. Her own sister, Carrie, had a very different metabolism, forcing her to constantly watch her weight. “Kinda.”
“Hey, I think I found it.”
“Hang on, I’ll turn the outside lights off and on.” She stepped to the side door and flicked the switch up and down a couple of times.
“I see you. We’ll be there in a minute.”
“Great.” Dena clicked her phone shut and went outside to greet them.
Chad’s idea of junk food—almonds, dried fruit, and some bottled fruit juice—abated her hunger.
“Mom, Brianne and I have something to tell you.”
❧
“Good morning, Dad. How many did you pull in this morning?” Jess sat at the breakfast table with a cup of tea and a bagel loaded with cream cheese.
“Ten. It’s an off season, I guess.”
“Bummer. I guess I can’t hit you up for a fancy red sports car like Mrs. Russell’s for a graduation present, huh?”
Wayne pulled out a chair at the table. “Never even considered it. In fact, I was starting to plan what kind of a gift you’d be getting me for your graduation.”
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