by Aurora Rey
She curled up on the sofa in the living room and switched on her iPad. She had an email from Nick, confirming the dates of Liam’s weekend visits for May and June, along with his two-week stay in July. She picked up her date book and wrote in all the details. She poked around Pinterest for a little while, adding recipes, a few outfits, activities for Liam, and some vintage photos of lesbians to her various boards. She had to laugh at the assortment, but they were a pretty accurate approximation of her interests, and her life. Maybe it felt sometimes like she was trying to be a dozen things at once, but she wouldn’t change any of it.
Chapter Two
Although rain had been in the forecast much of the week, Emerson woke on the morning of Alex and Lia’s wedding to sunshine. She checked her phone, thrilled to see that the rest of the day promised more of the same. She showered and dressed, choosing a lavender shirt with a gray tie for the day. She double checked her equipment, then headed out so she could stop by Wired Puppy on her way to Lia’s hair and makeup appointment.
Emerson was not a wedding photographer, by trade or by choice. Still, she liked taking photos. And if the wedding in question was between two of her friends, she didn’t mind pretending for an evening. She said as much to Alex and Lia when she found out they were engaged. Lia hesitated at first, saying she hated to impose. As soon as Emerson convinced her she’d enjoy it, they were in business. And since she’d successfully lobbied to have it be her gift to them, they got to save some money and she was spared having to go shopping. As far as Emerson was concerned, it was a win-win.
When she arrived at the salon, she found Lia and three other women sipping mimosas and giggling. While the scene might have felt cliché, Emerson couldn’t be anything but happy for Lia. Alex, too. Even though they weren’t the closest of friends, Emerson considered them one of her favorite couples.
Lia popped up to give her a hug, then insisted on pouring her a mimosa while making introductions—Lia’s mother; Sally, her best friend from Louisiana; and Maggie, Alex’s sister. The resemblance between Maggie and Alex was striking. She looked forward to capturing the two of them side by side.
She took some candid shots of the women together, then staged a few with Lia’s mom. When it came to weddings, sentimentality reigned. That was followed by some silliness and a few photos of Lia getting her hair done. The upsweep wasn’t unlike the way Lia often wore her hair, but the small pearls and perfectly placed curls made it a fancier and more formal look. Combined with the giddy glow, she was going to make a very beautiful bride.
When she left to meet Alex, Maggie joined her. The two of them walked down Commercial Street together. Maggie said, “I feel kind of ridiculous with my hair and makeup all done, wearing jeans and a flannel shirt.”
“I’ll rough up anyone who dares to point and laugh.” Emerson lifted her fists and jabbed at the air a few times.
Maggie laughed. “Thanks. I think.”
They arrived at Alex’s and found Alex at the kitchen island, leg twitching. “I should have gone for hair and makeup just to have something to do,” she said.
“Nonsense.” Maggie squeezed her arm. “I’m here now and Dad will be any minute. We’ll entertain you.”
Alex smirked at her. Emerson recognized the deep affection behind the gesture and thought of her own sister. Alex folded her arms and said, “Please tell me y’all have a song and dance planned.”
Maggie folded her arms in response. “Please tell me when you started using y’all.”
Alex scowled, but without malice. “It’s very catchy.”
Before Maggie could retort, a bellowing voice came from the bottom of the stairs. “You girls up there?”
Alex stood. “Yeah, Dad. Come on up.”
Patrick McKinnon bounded up the stairs to Alex’s apartment and hugged both his daughters. Emerson realized the family resemblance extended to him as well. Emerson shook his hand, then did her best to fade into the background. She wanted to capture this family time, not become part of it. They took turns getting dressed, Maggie in a periwinkle dress and Alex in a cream-colored suit. Emerson dragged them outside for photos. The three of them had the perfect blend of sweet and goofy; Emerson hardly had to coach them at all. Happy with the pictures she got, she left them to spend time together before the ceremony.
Emerson headed to the Unitarian Meeting House where Lia would be getting dressed. She found the bridal party in one of the rooms downstairs, along with a couple of Lia’s sisters-in-law and her mother. Sally, wearing a dress identical to Maggie’s, was telling a story from their childhood that had everyone in stitches.
Despite her efforts to blend in, Lia pulled her into the conversation and Emerson had to remind herself to stay focused on her job. Not a bad problem to have, really. She lingered until Lia got dressed, taking requisite shots of the dress itself, the shoes, and her mom zipping up the back. Emerson had her pose with her family and with Sally, although she planned to take more—in the church itself and outside. Lia’s dress, while simple, made her look elegant and even more radiant than she had before.
Emerson excused herself to head upstairs to the main sanctuary. Other than some flowers, they’d done nothing to the church in terms of decoration. It didn’t need it. The space felt bright and airy and had all the charm of an old New England church. Emerson scoped out a couple of locations, measuring light and figuring out the best vantage points. As guests started to arrive, she took the opportunity to capture some small groups and candids. With about fifty guests, she shouldn’t have a hard time of making sure she got everyone in at least one or two, but she’d rather over-photograph than under.
When the prelude music began, the minister took her place at the front of the church, along with Alex and her sister. The music changed and all eyes shifted to the back of the sanctuary. Sally made her way up the aisle, followed by Lia. Although she’d only known Lia for the last year or so, Emerson felt a deep affection for her, something that bordered on sisterly. For the second time that day, Emerson thought of her own sister and wondered what she was doing at that moment. Emerson wasn’t crazy about Will’s current girlfriend and had allowed that fact to make her phone calls shorter and more sporadic than their usual communication. Kai and her drama notwithstanding, Emerson made a mental promise to call her sister the next day.
With everyone in place, the minister welcomed them and thanked everyone for being present to witness the joining of two special people. Emerson refocused her attention on the task at hand. The ceremony was brief—two short readings, the vows, and words of reflection and a blessing from the minister. Emerson still found herself choked up by the time it was over. She couldn’t decide if it was because she considered Alex and Lia good friends or because she was getting older and perhaps more sentimental. Maybe it was because she knew Alex before Lia came along. They’d been bachelor buddies, going out for drinks and talking about women. Emerson didn’t begrudge Alex her happily ever after. If anything, it stirred in her a longing for one of her own.
Emerson brushed the feeling aside with a chuckle. Weddings could have the funniest effects on people. Apparently, she was not immune.
The guests dispersed to make their way to the reception. Alex and Lia stayed back with their best women and immediate families. Emerson cycled through all the requisite permutations, again trying to capture a few quirky shots she thought Alex and Lia would enjoy. When she was done, she held Alex and Lia back so she could get a few of just the two of them. “I’ll get plenty more at the reception,” she said, “but you’ll spend most of that time surrounded by people. This gives you two a minute to catch your breath before you go back to being the center of attention.”
The last comment made Lia laugh. “Do I look like I need it?”
“You look nothing but radiant, but I know you’re an introvert at heart.”
Alex pulled Lia against her and planted a kiss on her cheek. “You’re my introvert and I love you.”
“I love you, too. I can’t wait to sp
end the rest of my life with you.”
“The feeling is entirely mutual.”
Emerson captured the kiss, then shifted her camera. “Okay, I think we’re good.”
She ran ahead so she would be at the reception before they arrived. When she got to The Flour Pot, guests milled around with drinks. The café had been completely transformed. A white tent covered much of the patio and the front doors had been propped open to make the inside and outside feel as much like a single space as possible. Tables had been pushed to the perimeter and covered with white cloths, leaving a dance floor of sorts open in the middle. Candles and twinkle lights glowed, turning the normally casual vibe of the café into one that was elegant and inviting.
Alex and Lia arrived shortly after. The DJ, who Emerson recognized from events around town, introduced the wedding party. Then came toasts. Emerson had the perfect vantage point to capture the people who spoke as well as Alex and Lia’s reactions. The background music resumed, mostly jazz, and food began to appear. In addition to stations set up around the room, waiters weaved around with trays of bite-sized things. Even though Alex didn’t do the cooking, Emerson had no doubt the food fell under her direction. She made a point of sampling at least one of everything and wasn’t disappointed.
Alex and Lia had their first dance, then Lia danced with her dad. Emerson smiled as she snapped photos. When Alex took the floor with her dad, they pretended to argue about who would lead, giving everyone a laugh. As they moved around the floor, Emerson wondered if Alex would have chosen to dance with her mom had she still been alive. Emerson sighed. That’s what she would have done.
When the song ended, Emerson joined in the applause and shook off thoughts of her parents. The up-tempo song designed to kick off the dancing helped, as did the sight of a few little kids hamming it up for each other and the adults nearby. She started working the room, snapping candid photos of guests as well as some nice group shots.
Emerson took advantage of a lull in the reception to sneak into the kitchen. She imagined Alex and Lia would appreciate a few shots behind the scenes. If she happened to snag a couple of those bacon-wrapped scallops in the process, that wouldn’t be so bad either.
The space was smaller than she expected, probably no more than two or three hundred square feet. As far as Emerson was concerned, it made the delicious things that emerged from it even more impressive. A waitress brushed past her with a tray of bite-sized croissants made into sandwiches. Another stood at the main work table, waiting for her tray to be filled by a skinny guy in a chef’s coat that looked to be three sizes too big.
Two more women stood at the oven, also in chef’s coats. “These look good.” One of them pointed to a platter. “Go ahead and plate them up.”
The other one pulled a large sheet pan from the oven and moved it to the table. She started moving small puff pastry pouches to a serving tray. The first woman slid something else into the oven and closed the door. When she turned around, Emerson’s gaze locked on her. She was gorgeous—fair complexion and high cheekbones accentuated by cat-eye makeup and red lipstick. Even in the boxy chef coat, Emerson could tell she had curves. Really nice curves.
The woman looked at her with a raised brow. “Can I help you?”
Emerson hoped she hadn’t been caught staring. “I was hoping to take some photos.”
The woman narrowed her eyes and regarded Emerson with suspicion. “Like of the kitchen?”
Emerson offered a smile, hoping to win her over, in more ways than one. “For Alex and Lia. Since the reception is at the café, I thought they’d appreciate a few shots of things in the making.”
“Oh.” The woman nodded, then smiled. “That’s a great idea.”
“Thanks. I’ll only be a few minutes and I’ll try to stay out of your way.”
“Take your time.” The woman looked Emerson up and down. “Just don’t touch anything.”
“Promise. I’m Emerson, by the way.” Emerson extended her hand.
The woman took it. “Darcy.”
Emerson didn’t want to be a nuisance, but she wanted to keep the woman talking. “Do you do catering full time?”
Darcy shook her head. “No, thank God. I work here.”
Emerson cocked her head to one side. “I’ve never seen you. And I’m here a lot.”
“I work in the kitchen.” Darcy gestured to the space around them. “I’m the head cook.”
“I thought Alex did the cooking.”
“She does the baking. I’m in charge of the lunch menu—soups, salads, that sort of thing.”
Darcy seemed mildly exasperated and Emerson realized she needed to switch tactics if she wanted to get on her good side. “Wait, does that mean you’re responsible for the macaroni and cheese of the day?”
Darcy smiled. “It does.”
“I think you’re responsible for me gaining at least five pounds, then.”
Darcy looked her up and down—for the second time since their meeting a few minutes prior. “You don’t look any worse for wear.”
The comment sounded like a compliment, but Emerson wasn’t sure. “Well, since you must know both brides personally, I’m doubly glad I snuck in to take pictures.”
“Right. I’ll let you get to it.”
“I’d love to get a couple of you, too, if you don’t mind.”
Darcy’s smile turned into a playful smirk. “If you insist.”
Emerson couldn’t decide if Darcy had a playful personality or if she was flirting, but she spent the next couple of minutes posing and staging things for Emerson to photograph. Emerson hoped it was the latter. But when the timer for the oven went off, Darcy went back to all business. She didn’t literally shoo Emerson away, but it came through loud and clear that she was done.
Emerson thanked her and returned to the reception. She resumed working the room, keeping one eye on the kitchen. Darcy emerged a couple of times, seemingly to make sure everything was under control and to chat with a few of the guests. Both times, Emerson tried to make her way across the room to talk with her. Both times, however, someone grabbed her attention and Darcy disappeared before she could extricate herself.
When Alex and Lia cut the cake an hour later, Darcy appeared again. Emerson captured the ceremonial first bite, the kiss that followed. She watched as Darcy moved the cake to a rolling cart, then followed her back into the kitchen.
“Back again?” Darcy asked with a playful smile.
“Couldn’t resist. Did Alex make the cake?”
Darcy nodded. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
Emerson considered a comment about it having nothing on the woman cutting it, but didn’t. That would be cheesy, not to mention forward. But as she snapped photos of the cake being cut, she strategized ways she might ask Darcy out, or at least see her again. She reluctantly followed the wait staff out of the kitchen.
With the cake under control, Darcy turned her attention to filling the silver urns Alex had rented and set up on the main counter for coffee. She checked the supply of cups, along with the sugar and cream. With the bulk of her work now complete, she lingered for a moment and watched. Alex and Lia were in the middle of a slow dance, looking into each other’s eyes with goofy grins on their faces.
In the six years she’d known Alex, Darcy had never seen her so happy. And although she’d only met Lia a little over a year ago, it was obvious that Lia was head over heels for Alex as well. Several other couples shared the small dance floor with them, including a few people she knew. Emerson stood on the perimeter, camera covering her face. When she pulled it away, she looked almost immediately in Darcy’s direction.
They made eye contact and Emerson offered her a slow smile. Darcy held her gaze and returned the smile. She’d thought Emerson was flirting with her in the kitchen. Now she was sure. It was nice. She didn’t have much occasion for flirting these days.
Of course, that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy sharing looks with an attractive woman. And Emerson was certainly nice t
o look at. Darcy had noticed that much the moment she turned around and found Emerson standing in the kitchen. Although Lia had described her as hot, her account hadn’t captured Emerson’s aesthetic—part androgynous, part butch, mixed with edgy artist. Hot was a total understatement. Even if that interaction was the end of it, knowing the spark was mutual gave her a little boost.
“Darcy?”
Hearing her name snapped Darcy out of her reverie. She turned to find Tamara, one of her sous chefs, standing next to her. “Yes?”
“We put out the truffles and caramels like you asked. Is there anything else you want us to do?”
“There’s one last batch of coffee to add here. Do that and make sure there’s still plenty of hot water for tea. Then we can start cleaning up.”
Tamara nodded. “Sounds good.”
Darcy indulged in one final look around the room. Everyone seemed to be having a good time and the party felt intimate, rather than cramped. Alex had worried the café might be on the small side, but Lia remained confident it would all work. Considering how significant the café was in both their lives, Darcy was happy it had.
She was about to head back into the kitchen when she stole one last look at Emerson, only to discover that Emerson was looking at her again. Or perhaps she’d never stopped. A surge of warmth radiated through Darcy. She held the stare for a moment before turning away.
Back in the kitchen, she started the process of cleanup. She didn’t always like having to share her space with the interns and seasonal staff, but it had its perks. She set one of them up to scrub the pots and pans while she had the other begin cycling the rented dishes and glassware into racks for the dishwasher. That left her to focus her attention on packing away ingredients and supplies and wrapping up the leftover food for people to take home at the end of the night.
The next time she poked her head out of the kitchen, the crowd had thinned considerably. Alex and Lia stood near the door, talking with guests as they departed. A few enthusiastic souls remained on the dance floor. Emerson was nowhere in sight. She directed one of the waitstaff to collect abandoned dishes while she ensured there were enough sweets out for anyone in search of a final snack before calling it a night. She also checked in with Jeff, who’d taken on the role of bartender for the evening.