Recipe for Romance

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Recipe for Romance Page 9

by Snyder, J. M.


  She stopped in mid-sentence and glanced up, the hint of a smile on her face. “Daddy? Are we here?”

  “Promise me you’re going to be good today,” he said in response. “I really like Cam, and I want you to be nice to him. Can you do that for me?”

  Closing her book, she nodded. “Oh yes, he’s a really nice man. He’s going to take pictures of me as a fairy!”

  Talk about focused, Preston thought with a grin. “Yeah, I know. I think his niece is here, too, so I want you to be nice to her, as well. She’s around your age, so hopefully you two can be friends.”

  “Only if she likes fairies,” Abby declared. “I can’t be friends with anyone who doesn’t like what I don’t like.”

  Preston sighed. And so it begins.

  But when they got out of the car, Abby raced ahead of him, her dress and hair streaming out behind her, wings fluttering in the breeze. “Look!” she called out as Cam climbed out of his car, too. “I wore my wings! What’s your name again?”

  “Abby,” Preston warned.

  Cam gave him a grin, then turned that smile onto her, instead. “You can call me Cam. Your wings are very pretty.”

  “I know,” Abby said loftily.

  With a laugh, Cam said, “I was giving you a compliment.”

  “Abby, what do you say?” Preston warned. Coming up behind her, he leaned over his daughter to kiss the corner of Cam’s mouth. “Hey there. Long time, no see.”

  Cam turned and caught the kiss on his lips, instead. “I dreamed of you last night,” he murmured.

  Abby pushed between them, eager to stay the center of attention. “I dreamed about fairies,” she announced.

  Easing around her, Preston sidled up next to Cam and muttered, “Get used to this. From now until we leave, it’s going to be all about Abby. No matter what we talk about, she’ll find a way to turn the conversation around to herself. And yes, there are pop quizzes, to make sure you’re paying attention.”

  “Sounds like high school all over again,” Cam joked.

  Abby tugged on his hand until he looked down at her. “And then?” she asked, waiting until he nodded to continue. “I dreamed about all the ways I’ll pose in the woods while you take my picture today. I’ll fly way up into the sky and dance with fireflies, and sip tea out of rosebuds while sitting on a toadstool, and I’ll comb my hair with a tree branch because that’s what fairies use—”

  “Just so you know,” a girl called out from the open door of the van, “none of that’s real.”

  Abby whirled around, her brow clouding in consternation. “Is too! I’ve read all the fairy books by Jeanie Thomas, so I know everything there is to know about fairies.”

  Preston sighed. “Here we go.”

  A girl who could have only been Cam’s niece Jocelyn slid out of the van. Her auburn hair was pulled back in a thick braid, but strands of red curls framed her freckled face, and her golden eyes flashed in the sunlight. She was about Abby’s age but looked taller, with long arms and legs that were all knobby knees and pointy elbows. Her chin jutted out defiantly, and though she wore Capri-length jeans and a T-shirt, she also sported a pair of iridescent wings on her back, same as Abby.

  Crossing her arms, she stood her ground in front of Abby and declared, “I’ve read all the books, too. I’m talking about the props Uncle Cam uses in his photo shoots. Those aren’t real, silly. He’ll make you look like you’re flying but you really won’t be. Your wings are like mine so I know they don’t work.”

  Cam eased an arm around Preston’s waist. Hoping to diffuse the situation, he said, “Preston, Abby, meet my niece Jocelyn. Honey, play nice.”

  Preston opened his mouth to say something, but Abby spoke up first. “I know they don’t work, sheesh.” She shook her head, her blonde hair bouncing around her face. Now it’d have to be combed again before they took any photos if he wanted it to look half-decent. “What do you think I am, a baby? I’m eight.”

  Jocelyn’s jaw clenched as she looked Abby over. “Well, I wanted to make sure. Some people don’t know.” Their standoff only lasted a moment longer, then she asked, “Which fairy’s your favorite? Let me guess, Penelope Purplepetal.”

  The way she spat out the name told Preston it wasn’t a flattering choice. He almost wanted to ask Abby if she was going to take that or fight back, but to be honest, he didn’t know what a better response would be. “Is that a made up name?” he asked.

  Beside him, Cam snickered. “God, this is the whole Britney versus Christina fight my sister used to get into with her friends all over again.”

  “Actually, it’s Rainbow Quillshimmer,” Abby said.

  Jocelyn grunted with grudging approval. “Okay, she’s not too bad. I only guessed Penelope because of your dress. I like Briar Starspider best.”

  A large grin spread across Abby’s face. “She’s like my second choice!”

  Preston pushed away from the car. “Okay, I can’t—what are they even talking about? Isn’t your sister around here somewhere? Weren’t you going to introduce me to her, or something? Because I need adult conversation, something that isn’t fairies and sparkles and rainbows and shit.”

  With a laugh, Cam caught him around the waist. He pulled Preston into the space between his legs and held him there, his hands resting on the small of Preston’s back. “She’s gone to get us drinks at Starbucks. She should be back any minute. If you need something a little more adult…”

  Cam covered Preston’s mouth with his own in a sweet kiss.

  From behind them, Jocelyn started up. “Ew, Uncle Cam! PDA!”

  Preston snickered, spoiling the kiss. Hugging him close, Cam looked at her over his shoulder and asked, “How do you even know what that means?”

  “What does it mean?” Abby wanted to know.

  “Pretty darn awful!” Jocelyn crowed.

  Preston exchanged an amused look with Cam, and they both burst out laughing.

  “What?” Jocelyn asked. When no one answered her, she stomped her foot angrily. “Mommy said it, so it must be right! Stop laughing at me! Uncle Cam!”

  Against Cam’s neck, Preston murmured, “God, this is going to be one hellishly long day.”

  “Yeah, we’re not going to count this as date number two,” Cam agreed. “We’ll chalk it up to lesson learned.”

  Preston thought that sounded like a great idea.

  * * * *

  They didn’t have long to wait before an attractive woman their own age approached at a fast clip from the direction of Starbucks. In her hands she carried one of those disposable beverage trays; it held five plastic smoothie containers, one in each slot and one balanced between the other four. Three of the smoothies were the caramel color of Frappuccinos, while the smaller two were pink and white, obviously strawberry. All five were topped generously with whipped cream.

  As she came closer, Preston noticed the similarities between her and Cam. Her rich, auburn hair was a much darker shade, more brown than red, but they had the same freckled skin, the same honey eyes, even the same dimpled cheeks when they smiled. Her hair was cut short, like Cam’s, but on her, the blunt trim only accentuated her feminine features. Balancing the tray with one hand, she held the other out to Preston and surprised him with a firm, even handshake. “Don’t tell me, I already know,” she said before he could introduce himself. “Preston, right? My brother’s told me all about you.”

  “Mel,” Cam said, embarrassed.

  She gave him a sisterly smirk as she handed out the drinks. “And this must be Abby. Aren’t you a cute one?”

  “I know,” Abby said.

  Preston was mortified. “Abby!”

  She smiled up at him cheekily. “I mean, thank you.”

  “She can have strawberries, right?” Mel asked, a little too late. There was no way Abby would relinquish the drink now; she and Jocelyn slurped their smoothies together merrily. “I should’ve asked before I gave it to her. It’s about the only kid-friendly thing they have on the menu.”


  “It’s fine,” Preston assured her. “In fact, I think you’ve made a friend for life. Abby, this is Jocelyn’s mother.”

  Jocelyn quickly clarified, “You can’t call her Mommy, though. Only I can.”

  Abby rolled her eyes. “I know that.”

  “You can call me Mel.” Another furtive glance at Preston, and Cam’s sister asked, “Is that okay with you? Some parents don’t like their kids calling adults by their first names, but Mrs. Anderson can be so clunky sometimes.”

  Cam interceded. “And this is my sister. She’s one of those people who does whatever she wants to do and only thinks to ask if it’s okay after the fact. The sooner you get used to it, the better.”

  “Hey!” Mel punched him in the arm. “At least I do ask. Eventually.”

  “When you remember,” Cam teased.

  Preston was only half-listening to their playful sibling ribbing; Jocelyn had maneuvered herself around Abby, cutting them off from the adults, and he strained to hear what the two girls were talking about. In a low voice, Jocelyn asked, “Do you even have a mother?”

  The pit of his stomach dropped. Uh-oh. It was the kiss he’d shared with Cam, he knew it. He should’ve been more careful in front of the children. Damn it.

  But he needn’t have underestimated his daughter. Abby gave Jocelyn a strange look that made Preston want to laugh out loud; somehow he managed to bite the straw in his Frappuccino and keep quiet. “Of course I have a Mommy, duh,” she told her new friend. “Everyone does. You can’t be born without one. Where do you think babies come from?”

  “I’m just saying, since your dad is…you know…” Jocelyn glanced over her shoulder at Preston and Cam.

  Caught out, Preston quickly turned away, pretending he was listening to Cam and Mel joke around instead.

  “Since my dad is what?” Abby asked.

  Preston heard Jocelyn whisper, “Gay.”

  His insides felt as frozen as the smoothie in his hands. Had Abby had this conversation before with classmates and other friends? If so, he wasn’t aware of it. But he knew how cruel children could be, and how easily rumors began and spread. When she was born, he and Tess had decided never to lie to her about who they were; they never claimed they were married, or that they loved each other for her sake. She knew they were best friends, and that they had decided to have a baby they would both love very much, but she also knew they were not like other mommies and daddies.

  Did that bother Abby? Preston didn’t know. Times were changing, sure. In many ways, being gay had become more acceptable, not only for him personally but in the world at large. He dreamed of a day when Abby’s children, or her children’s children wouldn’t even think to mention that someone’s parent was gay.

  But that day wasn’t now. How would she handle Jocelyn’s remark?

  “Your uncle’s gay,” Abby shot back.

  Jocelyn glanced over her shoulder at Cam. For a moment, her eyes met Preston’s. When she turned back to Abby, she tried lowering her voice further, but he still overheard her. “Yeah, but he doesn’t have kids.”

  “So? You can be gay and have kids,” Abby told her. “My mom’s gay, too.”

  Jocelyn’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “No way! How’s that even possible?”

  A faint smirk toyed around the edges of Abby’s mouth. “Do you even know where babies come from?”

  Flipping her braid over her shoulder, Jocelyn tried to adopt her smarter than thou pose. “Well, Jeanie Thomas said they’re left in nurseries by fairies in the night, but only to mommies and daddies who want them and will love them forever and ever. You said you read all the books.”

  “I mean in real life, silly.” Abby sighed and shook her head. “A baby starts as a seed that the daddy plants in the mommy’s—”

  “Abby!” Preston called out, a little too sharply.

  Everyone turned to look at him. Even Cam and Mel had stopped teasing each other and were now listening in. He felt his face begin to warm beneath the sudden attention. “Honey, we don’t talk about stuff like that, okay? What’d I tell you?”

  Abby frowned at him. “But she said—”

  “Just don’t. That’s something her mommy has to tell her when she wants her to know it, remember?” Preston flashed Cam a tight grin. “Maybe we could head on inside?”

  “Great idea.” Cam handed Mel a set of keys. “Can you open up for me, sis? I need to grab some equipment out of my trunk.”

  Mel shot them a bemused look. “That’s not at all subtle. Here, take the kids, we want to hang back and grab a quick kiss. Well, make it quick, boys. The older Joss gets, the less effective caffeine becomes at keeping me up with her.”

  “Oh, you need a hand?” Preston asked as Cam headed for the back of the car.

  Over her shoulder, Mel called out, “You’re both terrible liars!”

  Cam really did have a few items in the trunk he needed to bring in with him, but Preston wasn’t sure he needed help. Still, he offered to carry what he could, and Cam gave him a couple cases to bring in. Sneaking a peek around the side of the car to make sure Mel and the girls were inside the studio, Cam asked, “So what was that all about?”

  “Jocelyn asked Abby where her mother was,” Preston said. “She thought Abby didn’t have a mom because I’m gay.”

  Cam let out a surprised laugh. “That girl pulls no punches! I love her to death, but she’s just like her mother. In your face. What did Abby say?”

  The smile Preston had been struggling to suppress finally broke through. “Well, first she pointed out that you’re gay.”

  “Touché.” Cam winked. “That’s about the extent of my French right there. You should be impressed.”

  “I am.” Preston’s grin widened. “Then she said her mom’s gay, too.”

  Cam laughed again. “And what, Jocelyn freaked?”

  With a nod, Preston admitted, “Just about. She said something along the lines of gay people can’t have kids, and Abby was like do you even know where babies come from, and Jocelyn started quoting those fairy books they read…”

  Cam was close to losing it now. Doubled over, tears in his eyes, he had to gasp to draw in breath to say, “Oh no, she didn’t.”

  “Well, Abby knows,” Preston said, snickering now, too. “Tess told her shortly after her eighth birthday. She said that’s when she found out, and she didn’t want Abby finding out at school or having questions I didn’t want or couldn’t answer when she deployed. So I guess…I don’t know, Abby was getting ready to tell your niece right here…”

  The rest dissolved into breathless laughter. Cam turned to sit on the open trunk and Preston leaned against him, the two of them struggling to compose themselves. As they started to sober up, Cam asked, “She was going to tell her the facts of life…?” and that set them off all over again.

  It was only sometime later, when Mel hollered out after them to hurry up, she didn’t have all day, that they finally managed to get themselves and the equipment together, and weave drunkenly into the studio, still snickering.

  Chapter 10

  The studio might have looked small from the outside, but Preston was amazed at how well the space beyond the front door was utilized once he stepped inside. The lobby was limited to a small nook in one corner, set off by two large, comfortable sofas surrounding a coffee table that doubled as a play area for small kids. The entire tabletop contained a miniature town, complete with roads and bridges and buildings. There were even cars and trains and blocky little people to play with in the scene, as well. For adults, obligatory magazines and newspapers lay scattered about, as well as a few scrapbooks showing off the studio’s photographic capabilities.

  The rest of the area at the front entrance was given over to a long reception desk with cubby holes and chairs where clients could sit around large computer screens and review their photographs. This was where the real work began, Preston knew. After a photo shoot, clients would sit here with an assistant to look over the dozens, if not hundreds,
of photographs Cam had taken of themselves or their children. Sometimes mere seconds separated one shot from the next, and they would have to choose the best possible image to purchase.

  Cam saw Preston flipping through one of the scrapbooks, so he leaned over the desk to jiggle the computer’s mouse and wake it up from hibernation. “This is a really neat program we’ve got,” he said, bringing up the last portfolio saved to the drive.

  A trio of older men smiled out from the screen—obviously brothers, if the matching glasses and balding pates were any indication. With a few clicks of the mouse, Cam opened a control panel and started scrolling through filters and frames. With little difficulty, he could manipulate the photo’s color, contrast, and size. He could turn it sepia-toned, grayscale, or oval-shaped, even swap out the black background for a different color altogether, or add in a pattern or image that wasn’t there before. As Preston watched, Cam even managed to remove one of the brothers from the photo entirely, turning the trio into a duo, and then added hair to one and erased the other’s glasses.

  “That’s awesome,” Preston said, amazed.

  With a laugh, Cam admitted, “No, that’s Photoshop. Most of what we do is minor touch-ups, nothing this extreme. I’ll remove red eyes if I have to but I won’t shave off weight. Red eyes in a picture are kind of my fault as a photographer—I should’ve compensated for them during the shoot—but if you wanted to look ten pounds lighter, then you should’ve gone on a diet before booking with me.”

  “Is this how you’re going to add in the backdrops for the girls?” Preston glanced over his shoulder out of habit.

  He didn’t have to worry—Abby and Jocelyn were by the coffee table, playing with the toys imbedded into the top. They might be older, but they were still kids. Mel sat on one of the nearby couches, leafing through the most recent issue of People magazine. She must have sensed Preston looking over, because she caught his gaze and sort of shrugged, a gesture that loudly said, “Are we doing this today, or what?”

 

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