by KG MacGregor
on finishing his project too, so he can come home for good. He’s
only been back to the states about six times in the last year and a
half. And before Taiwan he was in Bangkok for two years.”
“Wow, it’s a wonder you ever met.”
“I’ve known him forever. Our mothers play bridge together,
and they’re both on some committee for historic preservation.”
She leaned over and lowered her voice. “My dad says their main
objective is keeping the so-called wrong people out of the county.
It makes him nuts the way they go on about the Mexicans or the
Vietnamese. Anyway, the first time I saw Mike was at a Christmas
party at the country club when I was thirteen years old. He was
an absolute dreamboat, home from college at Southern Cal, all
suave and handsome. You know how it is when you’re thirteen
years old.”
Leo scrunched her lips and tipped her head thoughtfully.
“Does having a crush on Susan Saint James count?”
“Same thing,” she said with a chuckle, appreciating that Leo
trusted her enough to make a joke about her sexuality. “I liked
her too, but I wanted to be like Lindsay Wagner.”
“Didn’t we all? But I interrupted your story. You met Mike
when you were thirteen?”
“Right, and I fell in love at first sight, but I didn’t see him
again for six years. Same Christmas party, but then it was my
turn to be coming home from college. The first thing he said was
‘Let’s get out of here,’ and we did. We ended up spending the
entire holiday together and then I went to Bangkok for spring
break and again for the whole summer.”
“Sounds like you got swept off your feet.”
“That’s what it felt like. Never in my life had anything hit
me like that. Mike has this uncanny ability to focus. Not like you
focus…because you really focus.” They both chuckled. “When
he’s working, that’s all he thinks about. But when he turns his
attention to me…wow. It’s like I’m the only person in the whole
universe. It’s such a powerful feeling.”
“Sounds like love.”
“I guess that’s how I knew Mike was different from all the
rest.”
Leo raised her glass in another toast. “Good for you. How
long is he going to be overseas?”
Claudia smirked. “Believe me, we’ve had that conversation
more than once and it hasn’t been pretty. At first he said he just
needed to get some on-site experience. It was only supposed to
be that job in Bangkok, but then his father had a small stroke
last year. That worries me because Mike and his dad are so
much alike. They’re both big and barrel-chested, and they have
the exact same personality. Anyway, now he says he’ll have to
shoulder more of the load. In other words, he’ll probably work
abroad a couple more years. But I figure that gives me time to get
settled into a job, and it gives my mother time to plan the most
ostentatious wedding imaginable.”
“Maybe you’ll let me shoot it for you—at the friend’s
discount.”
“Thanks, but don’t count on it. If Mike has his way, we’ll
elope. In fact, if it were up to him we’d do it as soon as I got out
of school.”
“So soon?”
“If there’s one thing he hates, it’s a drawn-out spectacle. Once
he makes up his mind, he’s ready to do it. Married? Check. Kids?
Three. He’s the same way about everything.”
The waiter returned with their pasta and the conversation
turned to food. It was clear to Claudia they had crossed a
threshold toward friendship when they sampled each other’s
entrée, even sharing a fork to polish off a piece of cheesecake.
After a spirited protest she allowed Leo to pick up the check, but
only after insisting they would go out again soon at her treat.
“If we walk to the end of the boat dock, we can catch the
sunset,” Leo suggested as she zipped her jacket against the stiff
breeze.
Claudia looped the elastic headband around her hair and
turned up her collar. “This is so beautiful. I was supposed to be
doing my lesson plans today. I didn’t know I was going to play
hooky with you.”
“So you’re saying I’m a bad influence.”
She followed Leo’s gaze to a cluster of seagulls that seemed
to hang in the air behind a sailboat. “I wouldn’t call it bad at all.
Gosh, if I lived as close to this wharf as you, I’d be out here all
the time.”
“It’s one of my favorite places. When I was a teenager I used
to walk this dock every day dreaming about my life and making
all the plans in my head for how I would get there. I don’t know
why I stopped coming.”
“Maybe because your dreams are coming true now.”
Leo shrugged. “Or maybe because I know some of them won’t
ever come true. I used to walk out here and think about how I’d
build the business with my dad. Instead I ended up having to
scale back to just the jobs I could manage.”
“Like school pictures?”
“And sports teams, weddings…studio work. A lot of it’s
pretty mundane. I always wanted to branch out into some of the
high-art stuff like magazine work, but I don’t have time to do
that on my own because it means I’d have to go out there and
sell myself to a whole new audience. I’m too busy just trying to
pay the bills.” She sighed. “Besides, that kind of work calls for
skills and connections I don’t really have. I was hoping for an
apprenticeship or something, but I can’t do that and leave my
studio sitting empty.”
“It sounds like your whole world was turned upside down
when your dad died.” She had nearly come undone when her
beloved grandmother died, but that didn’t compare to losing a
parent.
“That’s what it felt like, but at least he trained me well to do
what I do, and he left the studio in good shape. It could have been
a whole lot worse.”
“Still, it says a lot about you that you held on.” Claudia was
beginning to wonder if Sandy was mistaken about Leo being shy.
She had talked about her first girlfriend, her mother’s feelings
of exclusion from the family and now her father’s death, all in
what Claudia considered very personal terms. Maybe these were
just surface emotions she shared with everyone, but Claudia felt
privileged to see them.
It was fascinating that someone so young had taken on the
burdens of a business while dealing with the loss of her father.
She couldn’t name a single friend from home or college who
had proven so much—with the exception of Mike, who was
only twenty-nine and already heading up a whole division of
his family’s company in Asia. Her recognition of the similarities
between Mike and Leo made her realize how much she valued
maturity and self-sufficiency. It was one of the main reasons she
wanted to teach for a year or so before getting married—to prove
she could stand on her own t
wo feet.
They reached the end of the wharf, where Leo indicated
a wooden staircase leading down to the marina. “I’d suggest
walking out to the end, but with all these people spraying off
their boats, we might get wet.”
“This is far enough for me.” They leaned over the rail to
watch the activity below. “So tell me about this party. Do people
go in costume?”
“Not me, but Sandy keeps a basket of masks by the door.
Anyone not wearing a costume has to put one on when they
come in.”
“That sounds fair. I have a biker chick costume I wore to a
party a couple of years ago. The only problem was that in Santa
Cruz nobody realized it was a costume.”
Leo laughed. “You in a biker outfit? That I’ve got to see.”
“You want to ride together? I can swing by and pick you
up.”“Sure.”
Claudia caught herself grinning to realize she had just asked
a lesbian for a date. That would have raised some eyebrows back
in San Simeon, but no way was she going to tell Mike she was
going to a lesbian party. He would surely disapprove.
They turned back after sunset, strolling silently across the
wooden planks of the marina, then past the storefronts on the
wharf. It was a comfortable quiet because Claudia felt satisfied
she had wrung as much as possible from Leo in one day. They
would see each other again in only a week and she might probe
to see how Leo balanced her professional life with her personal
one. Of course, that would mean Leo would have to open up
more about the personal side.
When they reached the old house, they stopped at the end
of the sidewalk.
“Would you like to come in again? I can fix some tea…or I’m
sure I have some coffee somewhere if that’s what you like.”
“Thanks, but I need to head home. Mike always calls on
Sunday night. How about a rain check?”
“Absolutely. Stop by anytime you feel like walking back down
to the wharf. If I’m not here, you can park around on the side and
save a few quarters on the parking meters.”
“Better be careful what you ask for. I could make a habit of
this.” She rounded the corner of the house and looked over her
shoulder to find Leo still standing in the same spot watching her
retreat. She smiled and waved goodbye. “Next Saturday for sure.
Around seven.”
Chapter 6
Present Day
Leo’s gut tightened when the door to the bridal suite opened
behind her, and she glanced quickly over her shoulder with
anticipation. A thin woman bent low to drop a small prissy dog
onto the carpeted floor.
Lon leaned into Eva and covered her mouth with her fingers.
“What kind of idiot brings a dog to a wedding?”
“Aunt Deborah! How nice you look,” the bride said
animatedly, holding a hand over her brow as she peered from the
bright terrace into the room.
Nice wouldn’t have been the word Leo might have chosen.
More like anorexic. Her gold silk gown was probably a size
two, and its low-cut collar revealed razor-like collarbones and a
prominent sternum.
“Has your grandmother been here?” the woman queried, not
even acknowledging the compliment.
0
“Not yet, but she’s supposed to come any minute for her
sitting. Do you want to come be in our picture?”
“I’ll just wait here.” She poised primly on the sofa and scooped
the dog into her lap.
Leo wanted badly to snap a candid photo just to preserve the
incongruous scene. She had photographed a recording artist’s
wedding several years ago in Healdsburg in which four golden
retrievers had run free, but that ceremony had been held at a
family winery, not a five-star resort.
“Girls, I have all the formal poses I need. Let’s take a few just
for fun. What do you say?”
“Absolutely! Definitely!” they answered in unison.
She walked in front of them holding out a plastic nylon bag.
“Reach in here and grab something.”
One by one the girls donned frivolous disguises, including
oversized sunglasses, a moustache and beard, animal ears, eye
patches, a Toucan bird beak, and for the elegant bride, a pig
snout. They could barely contain their giggles as Leo positioned
them for the final shot.
Suddenly Eva’s face broke into a broad smile. “Grandmother,
what a beautiful dress!”
The bridesmaids murmured their agreement, and Leo
stiffened to realize someone had slipped into the room without
her noticing. She had the whole day scripted in her head and
didn’t want any surprises.
The new arrival was Marjorie Pettigrew, the matriarch of the
family and the one who was footing the bill for the elaborate
wedding. Without turning to acknowledge her, Leo forced
herself back into work mode, peering through her viewfinder to
frame the portrait. Light and composition. “All right, ladies. Show
me some attitude.”
On cue the women assumed looks of playful defiance behind
their newly-donned masks.
Leo snapped the first shot from the camera on her tripod
and the second from a squatting position that caused her forty-
nine-year-old knees to scream in protest. “That one’s a keeper,”
she announced.
Mrs. Pettigrew emerged onto the terrace, twenty minutes late
for her photo session, and tugging uncomfortably on the seams
of a deep blue dress that might have been one size too small. Her
gray hair was teased high, accentuating an elaborate sapphire
necklace and dangling earrings that Leo found gaudy. “Take
off those silly faces and get to your positions in the Miramar
Room,” she barked. “It’s time to order the processional and put
an end to this childishness. A wedding is supposed to be a serious
occasion.”
“No, it isn’t, Grandmother,” the bride said with gentle
reproach. “It’s a celebration. Besides, Todd and I will have years
to be serious. We want everyone to have fun today.”
The elder woman harrumphed with undisguised
condescension as the bridesmaids scooted from the suite like
children being scolded for their foray into frivolity.
Every wedding had a Marjorie Pettigrew, Leo thought,
someone for whom the event itself was far more important
than the occasion. Her attention to the festivities likely had
less to do with honoring the solemnity of her granddaughter’s
vows of loving commitment than with putting on the most
ostentatious spectacle imaginable. From the looks of things, she
had succeeded.
Chapter 7
October 1986
The elderly gentleman took his wife’s hand and looped it
through the crook of his elbow as he guided her into the studio.
“Let’s follow Miss Westcott so we can have our picture made.
Won’t that be nice?”
“Do I look all right?” Claire Compton anxiously looked first
for her husband’s approval and then for
Leo’s, as she had done
twice already in the short time since they had arrived for their
appointment. It wasn’t vanity that prompted her to repeatedly
seek assurance, Leo knew. Dementia had stolen Mrs. Compton’s
discretion.
“You look lovely, darling,” Melvin Compton said patiently
for the third time, patting her hand with unbridled affection.
Their oldest son, Randall, had called Leo a week earlier to
schedule the portrait as a commemoration of his parents’ fiftieth
wedding anniversary. His voice had broken as he explained the
importance of capturing their devotion on film one last time
before his mother’s condition deteriorated further. Leo had
promised a photo he and his brothers would cherish.
Since Melvin towered over his wife, Leo seated him on a
padded stool and positioned Claire behind him with her hands
on his shoulders. As she framed the shot through her lens, she
recalled her parents’ similar pose in their last portrait together,
which she had taken just weeks before her father died. In that
instant, she felt Randall’s heartbreak acutely.
“How does this feel? Is it comfortable for both of you?” she
asked.
Melvin gave her a wistful look. “I think it’s fitting. Claire’s
been standing behind me all my life.”
The woman’s brow furrowed with confusion, a sure sign she
hadn’t understood her husband’s metaphor.
Leo’s usual approach to taking portraits was to build a rapport
through casual conversation, whatever might distract from the
formality of the session. Her goal was to elicit candid expressions
that family and friends would recognize as genuine, and the only
way to do that was to get her subjects past their instinct to pose
for the camera. That proved difficult with the Comptons because
of Claire’s anxiety about the unfamiliar setting. Her uncertainty
seemed to grow as Leo probed for information about her
hobbies and interests, anything that might help her relax. After
ten minutes, Leo had yet to coax an authentic expression.
“Bear with me while I make a few adjustments,” she said,
tilting one of the reflective umbrellas to cast more light onto
the scene. If she increased her shutter speed and took multiple
photos in a span of several seconds, she had a greater chance of