“I know you are, Isabella.” Jessie was peeking in on her.
Embarrassed by her earlier actions, she gave a shy smile. “You don’t have to worry about me. I won’t break, or crack, or whatever it is you thought was going to happen.” Isabella stepped out of the bath tub, somewhat stronger now, definitely sturdier. She grabbed her bathrobe and cinched it around her. She glided across the carpeting to her bed, then climbed under the comforter and leaned back against her layers of pillows. Jessie pointed to her night stand. There were more candles lit, and two of her enormous mugs sat steaming on a tray. Isabella shot her a confused look.
“I wanted you to eat something and get some rest. One is decaffeinated tea, prepared just the way you like it.” She was about to explain the other mug, but was interrupted.
“Nine sugars?” Isabella was doubtful. Her friend had always cringed watching her make her teas.
Jessie gave a full body shiver. “Yes, Isabella, nine sugars. Nine big, heaping sugars.” Isabella laid there contented with the answer. “And the other mug has chicken bullion in it. I didn’t think you would stomach anything too harsh, but I still floated some oyster crackers in it.”
She sighed contentedly. “I love you, Jessie. You know me so well. Can you stay while I eat?” She watched for a reaction. “I’ll even talk now. I promise.” She raised her fingers in a mock pledge.
“Actually, I called Jeff. And if you want, I’m yours for the night.” Jessie really had thought of everything.
She was quiet for a moment before speaking. The offer was tempting, but after ruminating on it for a matter of seconds she shook her head with certainty. “I can’t let you do that. You’ve been too good to me already. How about if you just stay until my kids are asleep?” Isabella needed to start getting used to the fact that she was alone now, and might always be. She couldn’t rely on Jessie forever.
She leaned down to pick up the first mug. It was lying on Jack’s note. She must have brought it through the house with her without realizing it. She reread it then crumpled the note, disgusted that Jack would even presume to know what love was. Isabella herself no longer knew what love was, but at least she knew when she lacked it. And at least she had had the guts to do something about it.
When Isabella awoke the next day, one thought occurred to her. It was spring, the time for new beginnings. How appropriate. She would start today. She called in sick to work. She hadn’t been working with Christopher long, but once he heard the sound of her voice, he didn’t question her request for time off. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” she promised, “better than new.” She woke the kids, sent Rebecca off to kindergarten, promising to meet her bus later, and dropped Kyle off at daycare.
The drive downtown was short, the morning traffic virtually non-existent. She parked on Margaret Street and walked to her favorite coffee shop, the Koffee Kat, which was everything a coffee shop should be. There were plenty of interesting people, periodicals, and art. The staff was comprised of New Age hippies, all college students and would-be artists. The atmosphere was ideal for reading, relaxing, thinking, or even carrying on a philosophical conversation.
Isabella ordered her favorite: chocolate cappuccino, garnished with whipped cream, powdered chocolate, and a zip bean. Then, with a quick smile and thank you, left the store and went to her favorite place. She parked next to the farthest street lamp on Cumberland Avenue. From where she stood, she could just make out the rooflines of the gazebo. She walked slowly, serenely over the carved paving stones, pausing occasionally to read them. Some, her favorites, she knew by heart. She read all the birth announcements, memorials, and anniversaries. She saw advertisements for businesses. All these lovely carved stones were laid out surrounding the Samuel de Champlain Monument, and more still were leading down three tiers to the mouth of the river, where it met with Lake Champlain. River Walk was a place of serenity and tranquility. No wonder Isabella’s body worked on autopilot to take her there on this particular morning.
She had some serious decision making to do. Isabella had already determined what was missing from her life. She wanted to be happy. She wanted her soul to sing light and free of regrets. She wanted her contagious moods to convey only the best of feelings to her children. They were so aware of her. She had sold herself short for so long, and had thereby sold them short as well. No more. Everything must change, no matter what the cost.
I will never depend on a man again, Isabella swore to herself. If ever a man is in my life again, it will be because I want him there, and not because I need him. She would never expect a man to rescue her again. She was a woman of independent means. In reality, she had been paying all the bills for a long time, more so now that she was working. She could certainly afford to care for three more easily than four on her salary. She would be fine. She would be grounded in reality, put aside her dream of a fairy tale ending, and she would be happy.
The forty-five minute drive from Montreal to Plattsburgh was…dull. Gabriel Charmant hated to be bored and he hated ugliness, not just ugly behavior or attitudes; that he could often understand as he had seen so much of it growing up. No, Gabriel liked to be surrounded by beauty, beautiful scenery, beautiful possessions, and beautiful people. Although sometimes, beautiful people could be dull. Well, that was a price he had to pay every now and then. Right now, the only redeeming quality of this obscenely dull drive was that he was getting to do it in his father’s new vehicle. Yes, a Hummer could change anything.
He turned his attention to the tasks at hand. Gabriel had classes to take. That wasn’t entirely true. His father would prefer that he not take the classes and just come to work full-time. He had offered Gabriel a starting salary of a quarter of a million dollars. Despite the fact that it was Canadian currency, it was still a good amount. No, Gabriel, in his one act of defiance his entire life, had decided to get his MBA to earn the respect of those around him. He knew he could do the job, had been doing the job for quite some time, but he wanted the validation of a degree behind him so others would think twice before questioning his authority because of a little nepotism.
In order to get his degree in his time frame, he would have to take summer classes, classes not being offered by McGill. The classes were, however, being offered in Plattsburgh. And since there was business that he could handle in Plattsburgh over the summer, his father had agreed to let him live and work there during the week, providing he come home each weekend. This was the cost for his father covering his tuition and employing him. Well, it was a start at least. He glanced over at the catalog on the passenger seat. He had gone online and requested information from all the colleges within an hour radius of Montreal. He had never really considered Plattsburgh SUNY, but once he looked through the glossy pages he immediately reconsidered.
Each photograph captured the beauty of the area, the architecture, the pastoral setting, and the students relaxing and enjoying themselves. He had wanted to climb into those photographs and be a part of that life. And once he discovered his father was working with a corporation stationed in the industrial park there, he was able to convince him of the many benefits of Gabriel taking up residence in Plattsburgh for the summer.
So today, more than a week later than he planned, he would be stopping by the college to pick up the summer course schedule, find an apartment, and get his picture taken for his business card. He was looking forward to the pictures. The camera loved him.
Isabella paused outside the building and gazed upward. She had been working at Blair and Webber photography for nearly five months, the same amount of time that Dr. Pam had been working with her on her graduate degree. And on this day in particular she was struck by the beauty of this place that had offered her a new life, new opportunities. This gorgeous ivy covered brick home with numerous palladium windows had been converted for partial commercial use. In truth, Christopher lived on the second story, a walk down the stairs being his big daily commute. He had turned his home into his office and studio. Isabella counted her blessings tha
t it had become home for her, as well.
Christopher Webber was unlike any boss she had previously worked for. She remembered her first meeting with him. He had greeted her warmly as she entered the room. “You must be Isabella!” He exclaimed. He was a short man, maybe five and a half feet tall. And she was struck by how fit and handsome he was for a man in his late forties. He took her under his wing immediately, exposing her to a whole new world in photography. One day they might be at a bakery photographing pastries and cakes for a new cookbook, the next might find them in a park taking pictures for some regional advertising campaign for sunglasses. Sure, they still did portraits, but for the most part, the job was new, challenging, and exciting.
Just over a month had flown by since she decided to focus on making a concerted effort to put her life back together, whatever that meant. Still, there were times that she struggled and her work reflected it. She remembered the day she found Christopher studying some of her proofs from a shoot she had on campus, pictures the college wanted for their magazine. “Hmmm,” he began, ready to critically appraise her work, while tempering his commentary with love. “If it were anyone but you I would think it was…fine.”
She had let out a hollow laugh. “Fine, huh? Thanks for the rave review.” She watched him, knowing there was more, knowing that he would explain.
“Yes. Just ‘fine.’ I’ve seen so much better from you, Isabella. Somehow you need to regain your passion. This sadness that you haven’t entirely conquered is affecting your work.” He had walked over to her then and grasped her face in both of his hands. She had stiffened, afraid he might try to kiss her, but instead he just spoke to her. “Find the passion, Isabella.”
Today, the air was electrically charged. There would be some monumental change. Isabella could feel it. So she wasn’t surprised when Christopher greeted her and announced that she must call Dr. Pam right away. Isabella marched into the office and dialed her mentor.
“Isabella,” Dr. Pam cried before Isabella had even spoken. “I’m thrilled that you were able to call me so quickly. Now, what I really need is for you to come see me during your lunch hour.”
“I…,” Isabella began.
“Don’t worry about what time. Just come when you can.” Dr. Pam said resolutely.
Knowing that she would never deny her mentor any request, she responded, “Absolutely. I’ll get there when I can.”
All morning the reason why Dr. Pam needed to see her so urgently nagged at Isabella. She played out various scenarios in her mind until Christopher tired of how distracted she was. “Oh, just go,” he insisted. “I want your head in your work when you come back. And pick up some Chinese, too.” He winked as she bolted for the door.
Crossing campus, Isabella‘s mind reeled. She tried to anticipate the rationale for the summons and then a response. Yet, her mind was a complete blank. She had no idea why she was rushing across the crowded campus. At last, she reached the metal door that bore her professor’s name. Hesitantly, she tapped.
“Come in,” Dr. Pam’s welcoming voice boomed from inside.
“Um, hello, Dr. Pam,” Isabella began tentatively. Dr. Pam gestured for her to sit in the lumpy chair in front of the desk directly across from hers, so Isabella gladly accommodated her. Unsure of what would happen next, she took a deep breath.
“Apparently you were able to take an early lunch,” Dr. Pam began with a twinkle in her eye and a glance at the clock.
The clock read barely half past ten. Isabella blushed. “Christopher sent me.”
Dr. Pam nodded and said, “So, how are you and Christopher getting on?”
Smiling warmly, Isabella responded, “He’s wonderful to work for. I’ve learned so much already. I feel like I’ve really grown…” Her voice trailed off. She knew what she’d been about to reveal, and apparently, so did Dr. Pam.
“Until recently, huh?” Dr. Pam noted with a comforting smile.
Isabella nodded and offered a wistful smile in return. Somehow, she began to tell bits and pieces of her life story, her recent separation and impending divorce. Not one to reveal her life to strangers, and only rarely to her friends, Isabella wondered what had stirred her to pour out her heart to Dr. Pam. The voice was hers, and yet she felt as though she watched someone else speak, her behavior seemed so uncharacteristic.
“So you see, Dr. Pam,” she said tentatively, “it’s as though I have lost my passion. I don’t see the pictures the way I used to. In the past, I instinctively knew what to shoot, from what angle, and always found the right light. Now…I’m not as good. Christopher noticed. Did he tell you?”
Dr. Pam, who had been leaning forward listening intently until now, slipped back in her chair. The worn leather creaked against her back. She sat pensive for a moment, rubbing her chin, gazing at the room around her. The walls were covered in framed photographs, mostly black and white. Stacks of photographs filled every inch of available work space. Cameras lined the shelves. All of which were illuminated by sunlight filtered through a hazy window. Suddenly, Dr. Pam began rifling through stacks of proofs and art magazines piled on her desk. Pausing, she leaned forward again.
“No, my dear. You haven’t lost your passion. You’ve just forgotten what it’s like. That’s all. You seem to have shut off your feelings as a defense mechanism to survive right now.” Dr. Pam studied Isabella’s face for a moment. “Feelings aren’t a sign of weakness.”
“Wait. I feel!” Isabella interrupted. She wanted to say more, but her professor raised her hand.
“Of course you feel, but you only allow yourself to experience the good, you fear suffering, even though you are right now.” Isabella’s head dropped as her eyes fell to her lap. “It’s okay to be angry. It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to be scared. And most importantly, whenever you experience any of those emotions…it’s okay to cry.” She watched Isabella’s shoulders heave as she struggled to control her emotions still. Dr. Pam sighed, knowing it would take more than a single speech to break down those barriers. “But that’s not why I called you here,” she said seriously. “I have good news and more good news.
Looking up and offering a shy smile, Isabella said, “I could use some of that.”
“First, let me say that those pictures you took around campus…” Isabella glanced at her alarmed. “No, not the ones for Christopher, the ones you took for my class before you graduated. Anyway, they were so well done that when I heard that a new catalog was being created for the college and the committee came to me for photographs…I gave them yours.” She watched Isabella’s face for a reaction. The young woman sat there biting her lip. “And they loved them.” She slid the catalog through the debris on her desk. “I know I should have mentioned it sooner, since they have been in distribution for several months now, but…better late than never, right?” She shrugged.
Tentatively, Isabella flipped through the pages. They must have used at least ten of her photographs. And she was credited for each one. She beamed. “Wow. I can’t believe you can tell me any better news than this.”
“That’s what you think.” Dr. Pam smiled widely. “Isabella, my dear, I am about to make your dream come true.”
Isabella looked at her curiously. She knew she used to have dreams, but recently she had set them all aside and just struggled to survive each day. And now it was impacting her work. She had lost her edge, lost her confidence, when she lost her dream for the perfect family. What dream could Dr. Pam possibly help her achieve?
“A gallery show.” Dr. Pam said simply. “You will have your own gallery show in Montreal. Someone saw your work in the catalog and called the college. They referred the gentleman to me, and now I’m talking to you. He sent me his card. Call him and then get back to me.”
Isabella was instantly numb and racked with doubts about her ability to have an entire show devoted to her work. Yet, at the same time, her confidence had been elevated by her photographs being published in the college catalog. She nodded wide-eyed at Dr. Pam, took the offered
card, and slowly, mechanically exited the building.
She barely remembered the drive back to the studio. Why didn’t she just walk? It was such a beautiful day and her destination was so close. The minute she saw Christopher, she remembered and bit her lip. “I forgot the Chinese food,” she said apologetically. “We can have it delivered. I’ll pay the delivery fee and the tip.”
Christopher smiled. “Darn right you will,” he said happily. “So, how’d the meeting go?”
“Well, can I let you know after I use the phone?” Before he could respond, she had walked into the office in a trance-like state.
The phone rang three times before it was answered. “Jean Paul, please,” she said. The man on the other side of the line responded in rapid French. Great, she thought to herself, of all the times to be rusty. “Does anyone there speak English?” She paced around the room while she waited. The man on the other line responded in disgust. He said something to a man in the room who then came to the phone.
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