by Jody Holford
Lucy parked her mom’s car in the driveway and figured she would run into her parents before heading over to Alex’s. Since she was staying, she should probably find a place of her own. A place with a little room where she could spread out her work, her cameras and equipment, and line the walls some of her favorite photographs. Alex’s place is plenty big. Lucy grabbed her bag and headed into the house. Too much. Too soon.
Leaving her bag in the kitchen that still smelled like hamburgers and fries, she went to find her parents. They were cuddled on the couch, watching The Voice. Her dad looked up and smiled.
“Hey honey,” he said. “Hey.”
“Hi sweetie. Have you eaten?” Julie asked, sitting up a bit. Her dad paused the show.
“Not yet. I was going to see if Alex has eaten,” Lucy answered, flopping into the recliner beside the couch. Julie sat up a little straighter and looked Lucy up and down.
“Are you feeling alright? You looked tired and a little pale,” Julie commented, leaning to put her hand to Lucy’s forehead. Lucy laughed and shifted away. “Mom! I’m almost thirty. You do not need to check my forehead.”
Julie huffed and picked up the glass of water that was sitting on the coffee table. “Suit yourself. You should be taking vitamins. Are you taking vitamins?”
“Julie,” Mark interrupted, his voice thick with amusement and tenderness. Genuine tenderness that made Lucy’s chest constrict. How they felt about each other was so visible in every look, every touch. Lucy wondered what had happened all of those years ago—twenty-eight, to be exact—that had caused that foundation to shift, to crack. And how had they managed to repair the damage so seamlessly?
“I am allowed to take care of my children. While they’re here,” she said, arching her eyebrows at Lucy. Lucy stood, afraid that if she stayed longer she’d either fall asleep or ask questions she wasn’t ready for answers to.
“I want to go over my ideas for book promotion tomorrow, okay?” Lucy said, looking down at her mom. Julie was wearing striped pajamas with a tank top and a soft, pale blue cardigan. Leaning over to give her a quick hug, Lucy inhaled the scent of lavender, and her heart constricted once more. So much had changed while she had been gone, but not everything and, for that, Lucy was grateful.
“Don’t pressure your mom, Luce,” Mark said, turning the show back on.
Lucy frowned. She was recognizing how serious her mom’s boundary was, but she was also on the outside of the situation enough to realize that someone
had to push a little. Taking a deep breath, she leaned over her mom to give her dad a kiss on the cheek as well. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” she said.
Her dad chuckled. “Say hello to Alex.”
“And be safe, dear. Even if you —”
“Mom!”
Lucy covered her ears as she walked away from them, but she could still hear them laughing at the singers on the television.
The door was unlocked when she crossed the yard and arrived at Alex’s. She did knock, but she checked the handle at the same time and found it open. Something smelled delicious, and her stomach growled loudly. The lights were dimmed, but Lucy could hear soft music playing in the kitchen, so she left her things at the door and followed the scents. She heard Alex humming and smiled. Her feet stopped moving when she saw him in the kitchen, draining pasta into a large colander. Candles flickered on the table that was set for two. When he turned to grab an oven mitt, he saw her. Or maybe he heard the heavy, fast thud of her heart as she watched him.
“Hey,” he said, smiling. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and a soft grey T-shirt. His hair was wet, like he’d just showered. He walked to her and kissed her gently. Teasingly. Once. Twice. And then not so gently. She moved her hands to his chest and wound them around his neck, grabbing on to the moment as much as him. Pulling back, she couldn’t stop the wide smile.
“Hi. You expecting someone?” she asked. He grinned, kissed her nose, and released her. “Yes. I invited a girl over. But you got here first, so you can stay.”
“Very funny,” she replied, coming in to peek at what was simmering on the stove. Jealousy wasn’t something she was familiar with. Not since her senior year in high school when she’d caught her prom date, naked, with none other than Danielle Peterson. At eighteen, Lucy had been naïve and was rewarded with a heavy dose of humiliation. But she was an adult now and could separate one feeling from another. The thought of Alex being with or wanting another woman, turned her stomach so fast, it could only be labeled as possessiveness. He was hers. And for once, she wasn’t letting go.
“How was your day?” he asked her as she stuck a spoon in the spaghetti sauce and took a taste. “Mmm. Did you make this?”
“I did. I told you I would cook for you. I should have done it sooner.”
“If I’d known you could cook like this, I probably would have made you,” she said, taking another bite of the sweet red sauce that held just a touch of heat. “Uh-oh. Now I’ve done it.”
She laughed and watched him put together the rest of their dinner, chatting with him about their respective days. As they sat down to dinner, the candlelight shimmering, Alex raised his glass.
“To you,” he offered. “To me?”
“Mmhmm. For coming home.”
He clinked her glass and leaned in to give her a gentle kiss. When he rose, she was happy to have the moment to breathe and calm the tidal wave in her stomach. How could he make her feel so much? When he came back to the table, he was holding a square box wrapped with pretty pink paper. When he handed it to her, she found it had some weight.
“What is this?”
“Open it.”
She smiled, feeling excitement push through her and settle the waves in her stomach. She untied the ribbon as he sat down and watched her take the lid off of the box. Inside, nestled in white tissue paper, she found a beautiful, perfectly square photo album. The black leather cover was cool, smooth, and soft.
Delicate, silver lettering was etched across the front: Live Laugh Love. Lucy felt ridiculous for the tears that fell as she ran her hand over the slightly embossed lettering. Alex passed her one of the linen napkins, making her give a watery laugh.
“It’s beautiful. I’ll fill it with pictures of us. Of you,” she said. He smiled, cupped her jaw with his hand, and kissed her. “That was the idea, actually. Great minds. Open it.”
She opened the cover to reveal pockets for 4x6 photographs. In the first pocket, there was a silver key. She looked up, locked eyes with Alex.
“As promised. If you want it,” he said softly. She closed the book, hugging it to her chest before setting it on the table. She stood and moved to his lap, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him tightly.
“I want it. I want you.”
She kissed him, surprised again by the intensity with which her words rang true. He tightened his arms around her and stood. “Great minds,” he repeated. She laughed and looked down at their plates.
“What about dinner?” she asked, running her fingers through his hair and kissing his neck.
“It reheats well,” he replied. He bent slightly so she could blow out the candles before he carried her to his room.
Chapter Eighteen
For someone who had lost their job, Lucy was extremely busy. Even more surprising was that she was happier than she had been in a long time. She’d managed to sign her mom up for a Twitter account, though she wasn’t positive that Julie understood the process. She’d also started a Facebook author page for her mom, which was instantly liked by several of her own friends, boosting Julie’s self-confidence. While they were looking at some of the simple ideas that Lucy had for boosting sales, Julie shared her publisher’s website. It had a link to Julie’s bio, but as far as a web page was concerned, her mom hadn’t taken that step.
Lucy had done some research, mostly through Julie’s agency’s website, to find out effective ways for authors to market themselves. Lucy planned to walk her mom through blogging and blog t
ours, but she didn’t have time today. She had promised Kate she would help supervise some of the teens that had agreed to help paint over the graffiti on a couple of the buildings. They were starting with Mr. Kramer’s back wall.
The air was cooler today even though the sun was making scattered appearances. The snow line on the mountains had lowered, adding a bite to the soft breeze that blew. It wouldn’t be the first time the month of May had brought a cold front to Angel’s Lake, but Lucy preferred the warmer weather.
“Alright angsty teens, line up,” Kate said to the motley crew that was assembled in sweaters, baggy jeans, and a mishmash of hats. There were more boys than girls. Almost all of them were holding a takeout coffee container, making Lucy salivate a bit. The teens gave Kate their attention, and Lucy realized that she really did have a strong rapport with them. They connected with her—maybe it was her age, her demeanor, or a combination of both. Maybe she is meant to do this.
“What’s angsty mean?” a boy with a plaid shirt over a long-sleeve Henley asked. He ran his hand through his shaggy blond hair, but it fell back into his eyes immediately.
“Moody,” said a girl with a condescending curl to her lip. Lucy didn’t think she was actually mad.
“We here, ain’t we?” asked another boy. He had an enviable afro growing that looked like a planet intricately perched atop his head.
“You are,” Kate replied, a clipboard in her hand. “And I’m not only glad, I’m grateful. Before we go over the plan, I want to introduce my older sister.” Lucy waved and gave a smile, but the teens barely acknowledged her with a glance.
“She’ll be helping, but she’ll also be taking photographs. She’s an amazing photographer, and her work has been featured in National Geographic, Elle, Vogue, Esquire,” Kate shared. Lucy’s gaze must have registered the astonishment she felt over Kate knowing so much of her resume because Kate tilted her head in a what-did-I-say? gesture. The kids, however, continued to stand impatiently, their expressions settling between bored and tired.
“I did a Maxim shoot as well,” Lucy offered with a weak smile. If Kate could win them over, so could she. It worked. The boys’ heads whipped in her direction with comical synchronicity.
“Dude. That is sick,” one of the boys said. His shadow of a goatee moved oddly when he spoke or smiled, but Lucy was pleased by the recognition. “That means cool,” said the girl who knew what angst meant.
“Yeah. I know that much. Anyway, I’m taking your pictures because I’m putting together an exhibit for the opening of the new rec center. If you don’t want to be photographed, please just let me know,” Lucy told them, taking the elastic off of her wrist to tie her hair back.
“Will there be photography lessons offered at the rec center?” asked another girl. Her eyes were quiet, and she barely moved when she spoke, like being still mattered in her world. Lucy smiled gently and hoped the girl, who couldn’t be more than fifteen, was just nervous. Kate looked at Lucy and pursed her lips.
Lucy answered the girl, since Kate hadn’t. “Uh. I don’t know. I think Kate is planning the activities and courses that will be available. I’d be happy to offer lessons, though” Lucy said, more to Kate than the kids. The kids were starting to fidget, and Kate pulled their attention back by tapping on her clipboard.
“Okay. More about what we’re offering later. Let’s get ready to paint.”
Kate gave them sections to work on and put them in teams. Lucy decided to take pictures before she grabbed a roller. Kate, never one to sit on the sidelines, kept everyone’s paint trays full and pitched in when needed. Lucy crouched to get a profile shot of everyone working on the wall.
“Pretty clever, challenging them like that,” Lucy commented as she worked. Kate had told the kids that the first group that finished their section to her approval would get out of cleanup.
“It doesn’t take much. They’re really good kids. They’ve made mistakes, but they’re atoning for them. I hate the thought of them being pigeonholed because of what other teens are doing. If it even is a teen,” Kate said, dipping the roller before applying it to the brick.
“You’re really awesome with them. Like, really,” Lucy said, standing and lowering the camera. “I’m sorry that I’ve been pressuring you. You will make an excellent social worker.”
Kate lowered the roller, took a quick inventory of where the kids were at, and then came to stand in front of Lucy. One of the kids turned on their iPhone so music sounded out of his jeans. A couple of the other kids sang along with the words, making Lucy laugh.
“I love working with these guys. I truly do. But if you think I don’t want what you’re offering, you’re wrong. I’m not trying to be mean. I love you so much—”
“But,” Lucy said stiffly.
“But, we’re not all you. We can’t all just take off and see the world and do whatever we feel like, Luce. I’m trying to be responsible. I’m trying to do what is right. They paid for my education. I will not slap Mom and Dad in the face by taking off,” Kate said in a hushed tone, glancing back at the teens.
Lucy’s grip tightened on the camera until the grooves were digging into her fingers and palm. “We’re almost done, Kate!” one of the teens shouted.
“Keep going. I’ll check in a minute,” Kate hollered back. Her eyes looked sorry, but Lucy couldn’t hold back.
“Wow. Well, I really appreciate you being the responsible one in my absence. While I’ve been running around the world, selfishly living it up, I’m so glad to know that Mom and Dad can count on you.”
“Lucy. I didn’t—”
“You had your say. Several times now. It’s interesting to me that you can spend your days working with these kids because you believe they can change— they can grow and become someone different than you expected them to be. But you can’t see that in me. Staying home for Mom and Dad is a cop out.
You’re scared. You’re scared to leave, and you’re scared to try. And maybe I’m not the responsible one—the one all of you can be really proud of—but I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere. To me, that’s as scary as leaving is for you. But I’m doing it anyway. That makes me brave.”
Lucy’s voice shook on the last few words. With her hands equally unsteady, she put her camera away and grabbed her bags. “Lucy. I’m sorry. Please don’t go,” Kate said quietly, putting her hand on Lucy’s arm.
“Don’t worry, I’m not running away. I have some sessions booked. You can finish telling me what a disappointment I am as a sister and daughter when I get home.”
“Lucy.”
Lucy turned without saying good-bye to the kids and walked down the alley before the tears slipped down her cheeks. She swiped them away and ignored Kate calling her name.
Mad or not, Alex wasn’t going to let his dad take care of the cleanup of his driveway and shed himself. With gloves on their hands, Alex and Chuck tossed the shards of glass into a large bagster, an invention Alex hadn’t even known existed. It was a heavy duty bag in the shape of a mini dumpster. It saved them time hauling while Sam punched out the rest of the glass to replace the windows in the shed. Chuck had decided he wanted new frames as well, rather than just replacing the glass.
“Damn mess. I should probably remove most of this gravel,” Chuck commented.
“Some of it, for sure. I can get one of my guys to bring the mini excavator over this weekend. They’ll take a couple of loads out, and then you can replace it with fresh stuff,” Sam offered. Alex nodded in thanks but said nothing.
“Maybe I should just pave it,” Chuck said, standing up and surveying his driveway. He looked at Alex. “Don’t look at me. Ask him,” Alex said.
“It’s a bigger job, but I think you’d be happier with it,” Sam replied.
Chuck mulled it over while they worked. Alex and Sam talked baseball and weddings, which surprised the hell out of Alex. He’d never seen Sam as the type to fall head-over-heels-crazy-in-love. He was happy for his friend—thrilled, but it was still amusing.
“You’ll see, man. I go home at night, grab a beer, put my feet up, and Anna curls into me with a fucking binder full of stuff she wants an opinion on,” Sam told him. Alex laughed and shook his head, but it didn’t really sound so bad.
“Do you know the difference between white and vanilla?” Sam asked as he held the drill steady and secured one side of the window. “Nope. And I’m okay with that,” Alex answered.
“He doesn’t get it, Sam. Save your breath,” Chuck chimed in.
“Oh, here we go. Because you’re the expert on weddings? Do you know the difference between white and vanilla?” Alex asked, moving so he and Sam could switch sides.
“It’s not about white versus vanilla, dumbass. It’s about listening to a woman and making her feel like she matters. Took me way too long to figure that out. It’s good you’ve already learned that, Sam,” Chuck said. He sat down in one of the lawn chairs he’d opened when they started and drank his water.
“The right woman makes it easy. Speaking of which, Anna’s asking to do a double date. You good with that?”
“Sure,” Alex said. Agreeing seemed like the easiest solution, and it actually did sound like a good idea. He should probably bring Lucy over to properly meet his father, too, since they were headed in that sort of direction. While they finished up the windows, and Chuck watched, Alex poked around the shed. He’d taken the paint into the station to compare it to the photos.
“Where’d you say you got this paint again?” Alex asked.
“I didn’t,” Chuck replied, looking up from under the brim of his cap. “Dad. I need to know where you got the paint.”