Page 33 of The Calendar of New Beginnings
“How much do you know about why I’m back?” she asked boldly. “Because I’m happy to hear your pointers about how to deal with a cult following, but that’s not the only reason you’re here.”
He ran his tongue across his front teeth. “My wife might be a little younger than you, but she’s always looked up to you. And then there’s Arthur… They’re worried, and since we all have black ink in our veins, as the Hales say, I made some calls.”
Lucy tapped her foot on the carpet. “I knew it was possible Arthur might look into things, but I underestimated your connections. I…didn’t think.” She’d been too busy worrying about everything from healing to the future of her career to returning to Dare Valley.
“I didn’t come here to get into your business, and you can tell me to buzz off.” He pushed off the doorway and walked toward her. “I might have come to Dare Valley for different reasons initially, but I was burned out too. I didn’t know anyone when I arrived—unlike you—but I lucked my way into the best family around. The Hales and O’Briens are close. And you and me…we’ve been in some of the same places, same situations.”
She nodded, feeling her chest grow tight.
“I’m here as a friend if you want to talk about what happened with someone who knows what it’s like to work in war zones.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Being here taught me not to do everything alone. And that’s what I came here to say.”
He was more than sweet to extend that offer. She knew it couldn’t have been easy for him. The journalists who covered wars tended toward a lone-wolf mentality—she needed to look no further than herself to see evidence of that. But sharing her story with Andy had soothed her. Perhaps sharing it with Tanner would do the same.
“They’re not sure I’ll regain full sight in my right eye,” she began, clenching her hands together. “I don’t have to tell you what that might mean for my career.”
He didn’t move. Didn’t say anything. Just waited for her to continue. And so everything she’d been through simply flowed out. At one point during her telling, he helpedher into her black chair and grabbed the empty one in front of her desk for himself, positioning it closer to her. How he’d sensed that her legs were trembling, she would never know. When she finished, she felt messy and vulnerable and hollow. But she also feltheard.
Since she’d listened to hundreds of people talk about the tragedies they’d suffered, she knew it wasn’t easy. Not everyone was capable of listening to the hardships of others. Tanner was most certainly one of the prize few, which had no doubt helped him become the successful international correspondent he had been.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked. “I know you’re taking care of everything, but is there anything you need? A drive to the eye doctor in Denver? You tell me, and it’s done. Mere might be close to having our baby, but we’re here for you, Lucy. Arthur is too. You know how he is. He likes to poke and prod as much as any salty journalist, but that man would give you the shirt off his back if you needed it.”
She wiped a few tears away from her eyes. “I’m sorry I’m so emotional. I was just thinking about him as I walked here today. I’ve always regretted I was too young to attend the classes he used to teach here.”
The corner of Tanner’s mouth lifted. “Arthur said you used to sneak into journalism classes when you were in high school.”
“He knew about that?” she asked.
“Sure did. Who do you think told the teachers to look the other way? You were interning for him, after all. Plus, he founded the journalism school. He kept them from busting you.”
She sat back in her chair. “He never said a word.”
“No, but he was bursting with pride as he told me aboutit yesterday.” Tanner looked over his shoulder at the plain white wall clock. “Your class starts in twenty minutes. I should let you get ready. We can talk again.”
“I’d like that,” she said as he rose.
“Arthur would also appreciate hearing your story,” Tanner said at the door. “He’ll tell you the truth helps lower his blood pressure, but really, all it will do is ease his worry.”
She rubbed her brow. “I’m not sure hearing my story is going to make him worry less.”
Tanner knocked on the door, confusing her.
“He’s tougher than wood,” he explained. “Don’t treat him like an old man. He’s more tenacious than men half his age. He only knows you were injured in that village. It’s for you to decide if you want to share the rest, not me.”
“You’re right. I’ll go see him.”
“Good luck with your class,” Tanner said. “I might sit in sometime if that’s okay.”
She smiled. “I promise to look the other way.”
After he headed out, she went over her notes one last time. Her syllabus was unorthodox, but then again, so was she. If they wanted to learn how to capture decisive moments in photos, they would have to be prepared.
Her classroom was packed, just like she’d been told it would be, when she arrived at three o’clock. Thirty-three students gave her their full attention when she stood at the front of the room.
“As you know, I’m Lucy O’Brien,” she began. “Since you’re here, I don’t need to tell you who I am or what I’ve done. All you need to know is that I’m really good at what I do. I assume you’re here because you want to be really good at taking photographs.”
A few of the students nodded, and God help her, some of them looked like they should be in high school.Most of them were green as grass—like she’d been. A few had obvious attitude. And Tanner was right. She noticed a sizable number of them were hanging on her every word.
“I’m going to teach you some camera techniques,” she said, handing out a stack of syllabuses to the person on the end of the front row to pass along. “But I’m also going to simulate extreme moments of tension and noise during which you will be required to take a photo that will be graded. If you’re scared of what happens in conflict zones, you might want to drop out right now and give one of the twenty-two other people on the wait list your spot.”
