by Ava Miles
She cupped his chin. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he said, lowering his head until his mouth was inches from hers. “Thanks for helping me find it again.”
And then he kissed her softly on the lips, feeling their hearts dance around each other all over again.
Chapter 24
After the photo shoots with two of the male volunteers, Lucy found herself grading her own photos with nothing better than a C for the final product, like the average students in her class. At least her instincts on capturing the perfect moment still deserved an A+.
The lighting on Jill’s face in Lucy’s favorite photo was too harsh, to her mind. The sad-yet-hopeful expression on Old Man Jenkins’ face was a winner, but the flag he was holding looked blurred on the corners. And Rhett Butler Blaylock’s whimsical smile as he kicked back wearing an open leather vest…well, the focus was off ever so slightly on the best photo of the lot. They would need a lot of touching up, and while she knew the images were great, she couldn’t help but feel frustrated.
Andy loved them and kept telling her that she was her own worst critic. But she was three photo shoots into the project, and she was floundering. Doubt seeped into her like unwanted water in a leaky basement. Her mother’s frequent calls and texts didn’t help. Today’s had been short but sweet.
Lucy, I want to see the photos you’ve taken so far. Stop ignoring me. I know your tactics, missy. I have a right to see them.
Perhaps she did have a right, but Lucy didn’t have enough confidence to show them to anyone but Andy. She was tight every time she picked up the new camera, and her nightmares had changed from twisted memories of the village bombing to garish versions of the calendar photos resembling fun-house mirrors. Everything she captured seemed distorted right now.
The only part of her life that felt in focus was her relationship with Andy. She’d never been more in love with anyone. Never imagined it could be possible to want to be with someone every day and night and still want more. Of course, they couldn’t be together every night because of Danny. They’d agreed not to spend the night together in Andy’s house. It didn’t feel right. That meant they met at her house during his lunch hour or spent time together while a family member took care of Danny.
Tonight they were going to have dinner together at Andy’s house and play Wii afterwards, something he and Danny did a couple times a week. Lucy had attended a few of the boy’s T-ball games and hung out with the Hale clan at Sunday dinner.
They were weaving more than their hearts together. They were beginning to weave their lives together. She was trying not to freak out about what that meant for her and her career.
Her vision hadn’t improved past the day of Jill’s photo shoot, but Dr. Davidson assured her it still could. Her color vision wasn’t better, though, and that bothered her.
She was sitting in her home office, grading photos of starving cats and dogs at the local pound, when her phone rang. She picked up her phone because there was no evading the caller any longer. “Hello, Mother.”
“Hello, Lucy. I thought April and I could come over and see the photos you’ve taken so far since you don’t have class today.”
Lucy pushed her sandwich aside. There was no way she could eat any more rye and Swiss. “Mom, how many times do I have to tell you? I prefer to assemble the calendar in draft and show it to all of you at the same time. Most of the people I work with prefer it that way. They can see the complete—”
“I’m not most people,” her mother said crisply. “I’m your mother. Stop putting me off. When I asked you to do this, I thought we could have fun together. I’ve respected your wish not to have me present at every photo shoot, but I want to see what you have so far.”
“Old Man Jenkins would have been uncomfortable with you in the room, Mother,” she said, trying and failing to keep the aggravation out of her voice. “And Rhett probably wouldn’t have been as relaxed if there had been any bystanders besides his wife.”
“You’re underestimating Rhett,” her mother replied in a hard tone.
Lucy didn’t think so. Under that tough, devil-may-care attitude was a vulnerable man full of emotion. He’d gotten all teary-eyed while telling her stories about his uncle. And so had his lovely wife, Abbie. More than one tissue had been passed around. Of course, Rhett blamed it on his impending fatherhood. Lucy knew better.
“Edith said she wouldn’t mind if I come to her photo shoot this weekend,” her mom said, using her words like a railroad worker pounding nails for Union Pacific.
Lucy decided to stop arguing with her. “Mom, I’m really serious here. Can’t you trust me?”
“This isn’t about trust,” her mother said, her tone growing sterner. “It’s about the calendar, and since April and I came up with the idea, we want to be more involved. That means seeing the photos you’ve taken so far.”
This was going to be a disaster, but she knew her mother. Reason and compromise weren’t in her lexicon. She was done taking no for an answer. Lucy could show them the photos she’d taken and explain the reasoning behind her selections, all the while making it clear they weren’t completely touched up to her liking. Heavens knew that was the case.
“Fine,” she said rather petulantly. “Come on by in the next hour or so. After that, I’m going on a hike and then over Andy’s.”
“We’ll be there in a jiffy,” her mom said and hung up.
Lucy pressed her fingers between her brows. Her mother wasn’t going to see things the way she did. She never had. Rising from the table, Lucy threw out the rest of her sandwich and decided to make her bed to keep her hands occupied until they arrived.
She was tugging on the pillowcases when she heard a knock on the door. As she walked to open it, she told herself she was a grown woman with an award-winning career in photojournalism. People admired her work. When she saw her mother’s sour expression, she had to admit the harsh truth.
Her mother wasn’t one of them.
Part of her still didn’t fully understand why her mother had asked her to do the calendar in the first place.
April gave her a hug first, which was telling, and her mother’s greeting was perfunctory.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” she asked, hoping to soften the rolling tension coming from her mother.
“That would be nice, dear,” April said, giving her an encouraging smile. “How about hot tea? You can feel fall in the air. It’s going to be a cold winter, I think.”
“Yeah,” she said, falling into the weather talk—the last vestige of civility between people who were at odds with each other. “I had to bring out my down jacket for the first time last night.”
“Andy said you two went on a moonlight walk last night after Danny went to sleep,” April said, taking her arm and leading her into the kitchen.
She cast a last look at her mother before she walked through the doorway. She was stiff and sour-faced and radiating anger. Tea wasn’t going to soothe her. She wasn’t willing to be soothed.
“Yes, it was nice of Matt and Jane to come over and stay with Danny,” Lucy continued, grateful to have April there as a buffer.
“Everyone is all too eager to help you and Andy spend more time together,” April said, standing beside her at the counter as Lucy set the old flowery teapot on the stove. “Don’t be shy if you need a night here and there. It can’t be easy sometimes, wanting to be alone with a little boy in the house.”
Lucy fumbled with the tea box, and it shot out of her hands, bouncing along the counter. Oh good Lord, was April really going to bring that topic out into the open?
Andy took his role as a father seriously, and so far, they’d only had one sleepover, courtesy of Natalie and Blake, who had watched Danny for the night. Not wishing to add more talk to the gossip mill, he had come to stay at Merry Cottage, teasing her that he was rather coming to like her princess bed.
“That’s very kind of you,” she told April, taking the box of tea from her when she handed i
t back with a knowing smile. “We’re all managing the newness of everything.”
April gave her a wink. “Good. Every time I see my son, I can’t believe the change in him. It’s like he’s come alive again.”
Lucy’s heart clutched. She was coming alive too, in a way she hadn’t expected. “He’s a good man. Always has been. We’re lucky to have each other.”
The future was as out of focus as many of her photos, but she could say that much without pause.
April put her arm around her and gave her a loving squeeze. “We’re so happy you’re back, Lucy. All of us.”
She looked over her shoulder, and when she didn’t see her mother, said, “Except her, it seems.”
April also checked to make sure they were alone. “She is, Lucy, truly. You two just butt heads a lot. Being away made that easier. Your mom wouldn’t have asked you to shoot the calendar if she hadn’t wanted to spend quality time with you. But you’ve kept her on the sidelines and that hurt her feelings—something she’d never admit in a million years.”
Crap. April had to go all Oprah on her. “You’re right. We have always butted heads. I was hoping this time we wouldn’t because this calendar…”
She broke off, realizing she had almost admitted how pivotal and important it was to her as well.
“This calendar?” April encouraged, her round face gazing at Lucy with openness and love—rather like her son did when she was feeling vulnerable.
“Well, it means a lot to me too, especially because of Andy.” As a save, it wasn’t bad.
“Then let your mom in a little,” April encouraged, turning the burner off when the teakettle gave a piercing whistle.
“A little?” she asked with a laugh, rubbing the hard ball in her sternum. “Are we talking about the same woman here?”
April laughed too. “If you’re going to stay in Dare Valley—which I very much hope you do—you’re going to have to find a way to meet each other in the middle. Otherwise you’re going to implode and kill each other.”
She wasn’t wrong, and since Lucy wasn’t thinking long-term at the moment, she decided to stick her head in the sand a little longer and just get through today.
“Are you two finished lollygagging around?” her mother asked, walking into the kitchen.
Lucy’s eye twitched. “We were just making tea, Mother.”
“Sounds like you were making a lot more than tea to me,” she said, her mouth carved in a stern line.
“Oh, Ellie,” April chided. “Sit down at that table over there, and let us finish off the tea. We’re going to be civilized here.”
Her mother sat while Lucy poured water carefully into the mugs. It wouldn’t do to miss the cups because of her depth perception issues. Fortunately, she’d learned the trick of putting her finger on the rim of the cup to guide her.
After dunking the tea bags a few times, Lucy brought out the honey and lemon. She set everything on the table, and they all sat down and reached for their mugs. Lucy gulped her orange pekoe and immediately started coughing on the too-hot liquid.
“Boiling hot water will do that to you,” her mother said like Lucy was an imbecile.
April shot her a look.
“Why don’t you show us the photos while we’re having tea?” her mother suggested.
Lucy stood up immediately. There was no point in delaying. She headed into her office and grabbed the photos off the antique desk. Since she had access to high-resolution printers at the university, she’d printed off her favorite photo of each subject with the intention of using a magnifying glass to manually catch the defects. Of course, she’d found plenty and hoped to touch them up.
When she returned to the kitchen, Lucy set the photos down on the table next to her mom. Resuming her seat, she picked up her tea. Jill’s photo was on top.
“Oh, she looks so lovely,” April said, a warm smile on her face. “I don’t think I’ve ever noticed how soft or beautiful Jill is. I mean I knew she was pretty, but…goodness, Lucy.”
“She has tears in her eyes,” her mother said indignantly, grabbing the photo and shaking it in the air. “I told you we weren’t doing one of your sad calendars, Lucy!”
April’s eyes widened. “Let’s look at the other two, Ellie.”
Her mother slapped Jill’s photo down with enough force the cups shook, making the tea rock back and forth like the weather in the room had turned stormy.
“Old Man Jenkins looks sad too!” she exclaimed, glaring at Lucy. “Dammit, what did you do to them?”
Her tone was a harsh slap across the face. “I didn’t do anything to them, Mother. I only asked them to tell me a story about the person they were honoring.”
Her mother shoved out of her chair. “Why would you do that? The past is dead, Lucy. All you’re doing is dredging it up by asking questions like that.”
She gripped the bottom of chair to keep from facing off with her mother. “Their memories aren’t dead, Mother. They matter. It’s the whole reason they’re doing this calendar.”
Her mother emitted a sputter as April set a hand on her arm. “Ellie, she’s right. These pictures are really great. I mean, Old Man Jenkins is still sitting there with an American flag on his lap and he looks…so sweet.”
“It’s supposed to be funny, not sweet,” her mother said in a shrill tone. “April, he’s ninety-one years old and wearing nothing but a flag. And yet my daughter somehow managed to suck all the humor out of the scene.”
Lucy shot out of her chair. “Fine! I’m a humor sucker, Mother. The photos need considerable touching up, but I happen to think they’re wonderful.”
Her mother grabbed the last photo—the one of Rhett. She thrust it into April’s face. “My daughter even managed to suck all the charm from Rhett Butler Blaylock. God help us.”
Her mother’s friend lowered her head, as if she didn’t quite know what to say. Lucy couldn’t blame her.
“He’s more than his charm, Mother,” she said, fisting her hands at her sides. “He has a heart, and he misses his uncle. Do you know that when Rhett was a little boy, his uncle used to let him sit on his lap during his poker games? His wife, a staunch Southern Baptist, told him he’d go to hell for gambling. And do you know what he’d tell Rhett? That a real man has to make his own fate in this life and not let anyone else tell him what’s right and wrong.”
Her mother’s brows drew together like two wasps colliding in midair. “Are you saying I’m trying to tell you what’s right and wrong? You’re darn right I am. I gave birth to you. That’s my job.”
Lucy’s stomach was burning now, like her ulcers had grown back. “But your job is done, Mother, and you refuse to see it. You refuse to see me. You won’t let me be me. I do calendars all the time—perhaps not like this—but I know what works, and you won’t listen to me. You never do.”
Her mother’s hands cut through the air like a knife. “I’m a terrible mother, I know! I don’t know how you can even stand to be around me.”
“Ellie!” April called out.
Ignoring her, Lucy’s mother strode to the kitchen doorway. “You’re wrong this time, Lucy. Life is filled with humor and fun. Even after you lose someone or something. That’s what gets people through things. You’re only dragging everyone back into the thick of their grief. Rhett can never play poker with his uncle again. That’s a fact. You’re cruel to make him remember something that can never be.”
Lucy’s breath sucked in at the attack. “That’s it! If you feel that way about me, you don’t know me at all. I’m a good person, Mother. I listen to the stories of people who have nothing left but the memories of the people they loved. It doesn’t matter if it’s Rhett or a ten-year-old kid in Congo who lost both parents to AIDS. I honor the person they’ve lost and their memories of them. And I show them how beautiful they are while they’re being human. You have no bandwidth for the full range of human emotion, and I’m sorry for you.”
She was heaving out her breath now. April shook her head, s
he noticed, as if immeasurably sad.
“If that’s how you feel, then not only should you not do our calendar, but you shouldn’t ever talk to me again. Because I can hear the judgment in your voice, Lucy, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let you imply I’m a bad person.”
Her mother turned around and stomped out of view.
“Oh, Lucy,” April said, rising and hugging her with heavy arms. “I know you’re not my daughter, but I hope you can take a minute to hear what you just said to her.”
She pressed away from the woman she’d always respected. “Didn’t you hear what she said to me?”
“Yes, but I heard what you said back. Neither of you is right.”
April walked out of the kitchen, and Lucy heard the front door close moments later.
She studied the three photos on the kitchen table. Her mother was mistaken. She had to be.
If she were right, everything Lucy believed in was wrong.
Chapter 25
Andy was preparing Danny’s current favorite for dinner: macaroni and cheese. Some idiot who ran the lunch program had served this nutrition-free meal three days ago, and Danny had refused to eat any of his old favorites over the last few nights. Only macaroni and cheese would do. Andy had finally caved after a two-night-long protest.
Lucy had texted him to say she was running late and not to hold dinner for her. He’d told her that was for the best since their menu sucked. She’d seemed off in her text, but he’d been too distracted to press her. He could figure out what was going on with her when she arrived. Right now he was stuck in food hell.
He’d found a recipe online, which he’d thought would be more nutritious than using a box. It had horrified him to see how much butter and cheese was involved in a homemade recipe.
He told himself he wasn’t a bad father as he fumbled with the white sauce. Crap. Even meals with no nutritional value were beyond his cooking competence. He almost admitted defeat and dragged Danny to the store to buy a box, but he bucked up. He could do this. It was only a white sauce. But his looked pretty lumpy… Danny hated lumpy food—he wouldn’t even eat mashed potatoes and gravy if there was the tiniest lump in either.