Page 35 of When You Smile

“Okay,” Taryn said, as if waking from a dream, and joined Charlie next to the table. “I’m a little nervous.”

The only thing that hinted at nerves was the quiet quality of Taryn’s voice. Charlie was learning her signals. Her hands were steady and purposeful—beautiful, really, now that Charlie was focused on them. Her nails were neatly manicured, and her slender fingers were graceful in their movement from one side of the portfolio case to the other. She already knew how soft Taryn’s hands were after just having held one. Charlie flashed on an image of their fingers intertwined, Taryn’s on top and Charlie’s resting on the sheet beside her as she looked up into those determined brown eyes. Her stomach dipped and clenched. Yep. She’d just gone there.

“Should I ask again or just give you a minute?”

Charlie blinked a few times and found her anchor in the here and now. Taryn had just said something. “Sorry. My bad. I drifted.”

“You’re having a day, aren’t you?” Taryn asked gently. Everything about her was.

“Yes,” she said, seizing onto the lifeline. “It was a really grueling afternoon, but I’m happy to be here with you now.”

“Are you sure? I can go if you’d rather some down time.”

Charlie bumped Taryn’s shoulder with her own. “You better not. I was promised photos.”

They held eye contact a moment. It was rather wonderful, and Charlie didn’t look away. She was learning to not be afraid, but it was a process. “I was just asking if you wanted to see examples from my narrative photography class or my portraits.”

“Let’s start with portraits.”

Taryn flipped to the right side of the case and pulled out a stack of 8x10s. As Charlie took in the first one, the world went still. It was a photo of an older woman, maybe in her early eighties, standing in front of a window, her face turned to the camera. The light clung to one side of her face, bringing every detail of the life she’d lived into startling focus. Her gaze was trained on the camera with a hint of a smile directed at the lens. “They brought in a handful of men and women from the assisted living center over on Delmont to pose for us. That’s Annie. She was amazing.” Taryn tapped the photo reverently. “She made me work for it, but her face had so much to say.”

“I can’t even imagine the stories she could tell.” Charlie couldn’t stop staring. There was something haunting about the shot, and triumphant at the same time. “I feel like she’s been through a lot and has emerged victorious.” She nodded at the photo, absorbing every detail of the moment Taryn had so elegantly captured. “I suppose in a way I identify.”

Taryn paused.

Guilt struck. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“I just didn’t imagine my shots having an effect on anyone.” She met Charlie’s eyes. “It’s an honor, in a way.”

“I like that better, because this is a very moving photo, Taryn.” She went through the rest of the shots, laying out her favorites on the table and offering her insight and reaction to each because Taryn seemed to gobble it up, just like Charlie did when someone read a piece she’d written.

“You don’t think the distance causes a disconnect?” Taryn asked about her photo of a rather happy-looking man sitting sideways on a chair.

“No. That’s the best part. The shape of his body in contrast to the chair offers a certain amount of…I don’t know. Tension.”

Every inch of the room seemed to tighten with that word, as if the walls might pull apart at any moment, giving way to something Charlie couldn’t quite voice.

“Yes. I agree. Tension,” Taryn said softly, her voice smooth and quiet. “It’s powerful stuff.” They shuffled through the remaining twenty or so photographs that Taryn had selected to print. Charlie was astounded. She wasn’t an expert, but this didn’t feel like the work of a beginner. “Are you sure you haven’t taken courses in the past? Not even an intro back home?”

“No, but I’m eager to learn, so I spend most of my free time reading photography journals, even when they don’t fully make sense to me, and fucking around with my camera.”

“You might be the only undergrad I’ve ever met who grabs a journal instead of heading out to Toby’s with their friends.”

She grinned. “I like Toby’s, too. I’ve always been the type to consume myself with new and exciting things, and right now that’s photography. I’m actually meeting with a student mentor my professor set me up with.”

“I love that,” Charlie said. “Let me know how it goes, because these”—she picked up the stack—“have really surprised me. You have true talent, Taryn.” She watched the color hit Taryn’s cheeks.

“That means a lot. Thank you.” The vibration of a phone interrupted their exchange, and Taryn grabbed hers. “Speaking of Ashley-the-mentor, she wants to know if I want to go on a shoot with her.”

“And do you?”

Taryn hesitated. Charlie sensed she didn’t want to be rude and flee the scene.

“Oh, don’t worry about me. In fact, I think you should go. I’m just going to chill and probably be really boring. You’re not going to miss a thing.”

Taryn tilted her head. “Are you sure? I just want to show her that I’m eager.” But Taryn had been zapped with a shot of energy the moment that text message had come in, and Charlie didn’t want to hold her back.

“I’m sure,” she said, pulling Taryn into a hug. “Go be great, and catch me up later.”

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