Recipe for Romance

by Snyder, J. M.

Preston didn’t know if Cam saw it or not, but he closed the program down and turned away from the computer. “No, not today,” he told Preston. “With kids I like to use as many real props as I can. It makes the whole experience come alive for them, and that shows in the way they react on film. Come on, I’ll show you where the magic happens.”

  On the far wall of the studio hung a long, black curtain with the words Richards Studio written across it in decorative script. Preston had assumed it was meant as a cheap way to promote the studio’s name, since it eliminated the need for a sign on the window—with the curtain drawn, the name was easily readable to anyone passing by outside. But now he noticed the heavy golden rope hanging down one corner of the studio, and when Cam pulled on it, the curtain parted to reveal two large rooms full of backdrops, lights, and props.

  These were the real studios, then. Where the photographs were taken.

  One was set up as a serious portrait studio, with chairs and benches pushed along one wall, and a large roll of solid color backdrops suspended from the ceiling. The other was where the fun pictures were taken. Currently the backdrop pulled down revealed a boardwalk scene complete with Ferris wheel and crashing waves in the distance. A toy box in one corner contained props to be used during the shoots, and the seats here were all themed—a folding chair, a rocking horse, a stool carved from a block of wood.

  As Preston drifted into the second studio, Cam came up behind him and said, “Yeah, this is the one we’re going to use.”

  Raising his voice, Preston called out, “Hey, Abs?”

  “What?” Abby’s tone was distracted; she was busy with her new friend. But when he didn’t answer her, he heard a tumble of blocks and she started, “Daddy, wha—eee!”

  The word came out as a squeal of delight. More blocks fell, then little footfalls stomped across the studio’s wooden floor, and he felt her hand slip into his. Her skin was cold from the smoothie. With a fierce grip, she squeezed his fingers. “Is it time to take my picture? Is it, Daddy? Is it?”

  “Ask Cam,” Preston said, nodding at the photographer.

  Abby squealed again and raced into the studio, making a beeline for the toy box. Jocelyn barreled past Preston, only two steps behind. “Come on, Uncle Cam!” she hollered. “Take our pictures already!”

  Cam gave Preston a wink. “It’s show time.”

  * * * *

  Though it was hard to get Abby to put down the toys, Cam asked her to move to the other studio at first so he could take a few seated poses of her wearing the wings. When she balked at the plain black backdrop, Preston pointed out, “Don’t you think Mommy will like these better than the ones you’ll get from school?”

  “Well, yeah,” Abby said, rolling her eyes, as if it wasn’t obvious these photographs would be worlds better because she had on her wings in them. “But Cam promised me fairy backgrounds—”

  “And we’ll get to those,” Preston told her. “Honey, we’re here all afternoon. So take a few pictures in this room, and listen to Cam when he tells you how he wants you to pose, okay? He’s the photographer. He knows what to do.”

  Abby pouted. “But—”

  “He has the camera, doesn’t he?” Preston pointed at the unwieldy behemoth in Cam’s hands. It was larger than the device he’d brought to the school, and a wire snaked from it to a laptop open on a counter in one unobtrusive corner of the studio. “Trust him, sweetie. He’s going to make you and your new friend look like you really do fly in these pictures.”

  From behind Preston, Jocelyn piped up, “Uncle Cam is good. He’ll make you look prettier on the computer screen than you are in real life.”

  “I’m already pretty,” Abby told her.

  Jocelyn shot back, “I said pretti-er, jeez. Don’t jump down my throat already. Wait and see.”

  Preston watched the solo shoot and had to admit, Cam did know how to set up a shot. Before long, Abby’s pout had disappeared and her smile flashed even before his camera did. She seemed to have an uncanny sense of timing, an ability to give Cam the right look and hold it a second before he took the shot that resulted in perfect images scrolling across the screen of the laptop time and time again.

  A lot of it was Cam’s doing, though. Abby was only eight, and fed off his energy in the studio. When she pouted on a stool, frowning at the unimaginative backdrop behind her, Cam called out, “Alright, sugarplum. Hold that look right there, I love it. But can you smile with your eyes?”

  Abby giggled in spite of her annoyance at her surroundings. “No one can do that!”

  “Au contraire,” he said. Preston made a mental note to tease him later about the French phrase. “It’s a proven ability great fashion models have. It’s called smizing. Can you smize for me?”

  She covered her mouth with both hands to cover her laughter. Her eyes crinkled into half-moons of delight. “No!”

  Cam snapped off a few playful shots. “I don’t know, missy. Those look like smiling eyes to me.”

  “But my mouth’s smiling, too!” Abby told him, her words muffled behind her fingers.

  Cam frowned. “Are you sure? Because I can’t see your lips.”

  Later, during a more serious moment, when almost all of the lights were dimmed and a single spotlight picked out the sparkles on her dress and wings, Cam told her, “Okay, last one. Let’s do something different, though. This time, don’t say cheese. Say something that rhymes with it instead.”

  Abby tilted her head to one side, confused. “I can’t think of anything!”

  Beside Preston, Jocelyn grinned. “He always does this one,” she whispered.

  “It’s okay. Don’t get upset.” Cam glanced over at Preston and his niece, and said, “Here’s my favorite. Instead of cheese, why not say chimpanzee? Ready? One, two—”

  “What?” Abby’s serious mood collapsed in a fit of giggles. “Chimp…chim—that’s a monkey! That doesn’t rhyme with cheese!”

  Cam laughed, too. “Sure it does. Cheese, chimpanzee, they both have that eee sound that makes you smile, see? Try it. Eee…”

  When she did it through her laughter, he got his shot.

  * * * *

  Preston moved along with them when the photo shoot migrated into the second studio, what Jocelyn dubbed the “fun room,” but soon found he was a distraction to his daughter. Every time she picked up a prop from the toy box or struck a cute pose, she called out to him, “Look at me, Daddy!” or “Watch this!” or “Daddy, look!”

  At first he gave the standard dad responses. “I see, honey. Be careful on that. Uh-huh, cool. Ooh, pretty. Yes, Abby, I’m watching you.” But before long, he realized he was interfering with the shot and Cam was too nice to say anything. When Jocelyn came into the pictures, too, Preston decided it was time for him to sit down and let the girls have their fun.

  Of course, the moment he started to drift away, Abby noticed. “Daddy, wait!” she called out. “Aren’t you going to watch me?”

  “I’m going to watch from over there,” he said, gesturing to the lobby’s waiting area, where Cam’s sister Mel still leafed through a magazine. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

  Her eyes widened and her lower lip pooched out; her lost puppy look, Tess called it. “But you can see me better over here.”

  Cam gave him an amused grin. “Yeah, Daddy,” he said softly, his voice low enough that it didn’t travel to where the girls romped in the middle of the studio. Only Preston could hear him. “All you’ll be able to see from out there is my ass.”

  Leaning against Cam’s shoulder, Preston playfully swatted his butt and murmured, “Best view in the house.”

  “Daaaaad-dy,” Abby whined, not to be forgotten.

  “Honey.” Preston sighed, exasperated. “I’m only in the way here.”

  Abby frowned at him. “No, you’re not. You’re not even in front of the camera!”

  “But every two seconds, you’re talking to me,” he pointed out. “You’re focusing on me, and you’re supposed to be fairies, re
member?”

  “I am,” she said. “I have wings, see?”

  Preston knew from experience that the more he tried to explain his way out of something, the more Abby would fight him on it. “Then concentrate on being fairies with your friend, okay? So Cam can take your pictures, and make you two fly on the computer screen. I’m going to go sit with Mel—”

  “Daaaaddy!” Abby cried.

  “And I’ll watch you from there. If you’re going to get upset about it, we can stop now and go on home. Do you want to do that?” Preston gave her a stern look that stemmed any further outburst. “Do you?”

  With a pout, Abby shook her head. “We haven’t even taken any pictures yet!”

  Preston knew that wasn’t true, but he didn’t bother arguing with her. Instead, he crossed the studio and knelt down in front of her to give her a strong hug and a kiss on the forehead. “Then don’t cry about it, okay?” he whispered. “I can see you from the lobby. Fairies don’t cry, do they?”

  From somewhere nearby, Jocelyn started, “In book four, Lavender Lilyblossom—” but Preston cut her off with a sharp glance.

  Abby sniffled. “No, I guess not. Lavender only cried when she lost her wings, so she wasn’t really a fairy then.”

  “And you have your wings,” Preston reminded her. “So no tears. Show me what kind of fairy you can be, okay? Can you do that?”

  Abby nodded grudgingly. Preston gave her another kiss and hugged her tight, then headed back out of the studio. On the way, he passed Cam, who said gently, “You know, you don’t have to go.”

  “I’m ruining the shoot,” Preston pointed out.

  Cam shrugged. “You said it yourself earlier, we have all day.”

  With a grin, Preston said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m starting to get hungry, and if we still want to catch a kids’ movie, the new Disney cartoon is playing at seven. I don’t know what all you have to do to the pictures once they’re all taken, but going through them all is going to be time consuming, and knowing my daughter, she’s going to want to look at every single one.”

  Cam laughed. “Yeah, they always do.”

  Preston kissed the corner of Cam’s mouth, aiming for the mole on his lower lip. It drew him like a bull’s eye. “So let me get out of your hair for a bit and maybe that will move things along faster. Besides, you invited Mel so I could get to know her and we haven’t said two words to each other. I’m sure she feels left out, or something.”

  “Are you kidding?” Cam glanced over his shoulder at his sister. “After putting up with Jocelyn round the clock, she’s loving this quiet time, believe me. If she wasn’t, we’d all know it.”

  * * * *

  As Preston sat down on the sofa across from hers, Mel looked up from her magazine and smiled. “I wondered if my brother was ever going to let me get a chance to talk to you without him hovering around,” she joked. “Abby’s a doll. She and Joss seem to be hitting it off.”

  Preston laughed and looked back at his daughter, who had already forgotten about being upset and was once again playing with Jocelyn while Cam filmed them. “Well,” he drawled, “you do know the whole reason he set this up was so that you’d be able to babysit from time to time, right?”

  “Figures.” Mel shook her head, bemused. Sipping the remnants of her Frappuccino, she gave Preston an arched look. “So Cam tells me you like to cook? Is that right?”

  “I work at the River City downtown,” Preston said. “I’m a glorified line cook, but you’d never believe I have a degree from culinary school in New York. When I first moved back home after college, Richmond wasn’t exactly known for its high end dining, so I took what I could.”

  Mel folded up her magazine and set it aside. “Times change. I mean, look around. Short Pump alone has more fine dining than chains. I’m sure you can find something worth your degree now.”

  “Cam said the same thing last night,” Preston agreed, nodding. “I’m going to work on my CV, put some feelers out. He basically gave me the kick in the ass I needed to get out there and start looking for something better.”

  “Like what?” Mel asked.

  Preston shrugged. “I don’t know. Something that isn’t scrambled eggs and omelets, or burgers and fries. I hate coming home smelling of grease. I’d like a menu with a little diversity, for starters, one that challenges me. Diner food isn’t exactly culinary science.”

  She chewed on her lower lip, thinking. After a moment, she moved the magazine out of the way and scooted closer. Leaning on her knees, she told him, “Listen. Cam might have mentioned I like to bake—”

  “Yeah, he said.” Preston nodded encouragingly. “That’s one thing I’m not all that great at, so I’m real impressed. Did you go to school, or—”

  “I took some classes, but I’m mostly self-taught.” With a wave of her hand, Mel dismissed that turn of the conversation. “No, but listen. I don’t know if you’ve heard of the new place they’re building out on the north side? It’s going to be a fine dining slash gourmet market sort of place, very posh, called Libbie Mill.”

  Preston leaned forward, too, suddenly interested. “No. Where is it?”

  “They’re building it now,” Mel told him. “It’s right off the interstate, where Staples Mill Road and Broad Street meet. My husband Greg works for a headhunting firm who’s doing the initial hiring.”

  Now Preston was really interested. “What’s the construction timeframe?”

  Mel shrugged. “I’m not sure. The basic framework is up, and the walls are filled in, I know that much. I went out to the site last week because I interviewed for a position in their bakery.”

  “Did you get it?” Preston asked, excited.

  Her smile gave away the answer before she nodded. “Yeah. But I know for a fact that they haven’t started hiring for the restaurant yet. Greg’s still writing up the job descriptions, which should post in a week or two. Hey…” She scooted to the edge of the sofa and reached out, touching Preston’s knee, as if a thought came to her. “How about you and Abby come by the house one night for dinner? I’ll invite Cam, and Joss will be there, too, so it won’t be weird or anything. But bring along your CV, and at some point I’ll sort of steer the conversation to Libbie Mill and see if I can’t get Greg to at least give you an interview. It’s the least I can do. What do you say?”

  What could he say? “I say hell, yeah!” Preston laughed. “That sounds awesome! Thanks so much.”

  Mel sat back, pleased with herself. “It’s the least I can do. I haven’t seen my brother this smitten with anyone since…God, I don’t know, college? I can see why, too. You’re really cute. Abby definitely gets her looks from her daddy.”

  With a laugh, Preston said, “Nah, she looks like her mother. Tess is gorgeous. I fake dated the hottest girl in high school.”

  “Now that sounds like a good story, much better than anything in here.” Pushing the magazine out of her way, Mel curled up on the sofa and looked at him expectantly. “So, spill. And don’t skimp on the juicy bits. I’ll make Cam tell me them later, anyway.”

  Chapter 11

  In the end, Mel nixed the movie because the photo shoot proved to be enough excitement for one day for both girls, and Preston had to agree. Cam spent close to an hour taking pictures of Abby and Jocelyn as they posed and romped in the studio, pretending to be fairies, and another two hours fiddling around with the photos on the computer, the girls pressed in close around him on either side, eager to watch the photos come to life before their very eyes. It was well after six o’clock when he finally sat back, satisfied with his work. Mel had made another Starbucks run an hour earlier, and Preston sipped on a café macchiato as he sent Tess an email, telling her all about the afternoon and attaching a surreptitious picture he’d snapped with his phone when Cam wasn’t looking.

  Preston and Mel drifted over to the computer to take a look at the final photos Cam had decided on printing. He’d selected and enhanced thirty to combine into a scrapbook to commemorate the day
—these he really Photoshopped, and they showed the range of his skill as a graphic artist and designer. In many of the pictures, the girls really did look otherworldly and fae. Some were filtered to create a dreamy feel. Some had light leaks and pastel washes. Starlight and fireflies had been added to some of the images; rainbows sparkled in the sky in others, while butterflies and smaller fairies fluttered around the girls in one or two. There was even an image where the ground had been erased and a large branch added under them instead, so it looked as if the girls were sipping tea while perched way up in the top of a baobab tree that sprawled above a rainforest bursting with life.

  “Wow, these are amazing,” Preston murmured, impressed. He leaned over Cam’s shoulder to get a closer look, and couldn’t resist easing his arms around the photographer’s neck for a quick hug. “You’re awesome, do you know that?”

  Abby was so excited by the finished photos, she bounced in her seat. Tugging on Preston’s sleeve, she pointed at the computer screen. “Look at me flying, Daddy! I’m a real fairy! I love these so much!”

  Giving her a quick kiss on the top of her head, Preston asked, “Did you have a lot of fun today?”

  “Yes!” Abby crowed.

  From Cam’s other side, Jocelyn mimicked her. “Yes! Me, too!”

  “With you!” Abby stood up in the chair so she could see over Cam and waved at her new friend. “We have to do this again. Can we, Daddy? Can we take more pictures?”

  Preston wrapped an arm around her waist so she wouldn’t fall, keeping the other around Cam’s shoulders. “We’ll see,” he told her.

  Abby’s smile disappeared. “Which means no.”

  Cam and Mel both laughed.

  “Get down off the chair, honey,” Preston said, helping Abby down. “Let’s get these pictures done first, okay? Do you think your mother will like them?”

  “Yes!” Abby jumped, almost knocking the chair over in her enthusiasm. “Can Joss come over for dinner, Daddy? I told her maybe she could, if you said so. Can she?”

  Before he could respond, Cam answered. “We’re going out. It’s about dinnertime now, isn’t it?”