Page 74 of The Calendar of New Beginnings
Her phone buzzed.That’s great. Let me know if Dr. Davidson wants to see you, and I can take off. I had a good night too. Gotta run. Rufus just barfed, and Danny won’t put his pants on. If you don’t hear from me in a few hours, I’ve run away to Bali.
An irrepressible smile spread across her face. He always made her smile. Laughter was the best medicine, he’d say, and he wasn’t kidding. Her spirits were better. Classes were going well. She was grading her first photos of road kill, discovering she had no trouble whatsoever judging their technique or composition.
But she hadn’t taken any more pictures herself. Not until today. She’d been hoping her vision would miraculously correct itself, so she wouldn’t have to learn a new way. At least her vision was back to the condition it had been in before her fight with her mother. Would it improve a little more with time? God, she hoped so, but she couldn’t wait any longer to take the photos for the calendar. Her mother had made that clear.
Another text came in.Good luck capturing Jill’s maracas. Please don’t feel like you need to share the details. I’ve been scarred enough today between my dog and kid. Call me if you need me.
The last part of his message made her heart clench. They didn’t focus on the problems with her vision, but they didn’t dance around them either. A couple of nights ago, while they were sitting on the couch after Danny had gone to sleep, he’d asked her to describe what her vision looked like now. In halting terms, she’d tried to explain it, and afterwards, he’d held her quietly until she finally made herself drive home.
As she dressed, she decided to call Dr. Davidson to tell him the news. Though she dreaded that he might tellher she was imagining it, making the call was the right thing to do. The phone call was brief because the doctor was in the car on the way to the hospital, but he agreed that her news was encouraging. Afterwards, she drove over to The Grand Mountain Hotel to face her demons.
She’d already checked out the media room Chef T had volunteered for today’s shoot. It was equipped with the kind of state-of-the-art equipment Lucy never had in the field, taking photos for humanitarian organizations’ calendars and the like. Yet her work hadn’t suffered for it.
Once again, the volunteers had agreed to draw names to establish the shooting order, and it was Lucy’s luck to begin with Jill. She was grateful her mother’s name had been drawn last, although that meant her mother had more time to shop for a headdress worthy of Cleopatra.
When Lucy entered the hotel’s fancy lobby, Jill met her in a surprisingly conservative white blouse and navy shirt, in keeping with the hotel’s elegant ambiance.
“Are you ready, Lucy?” the quirky redhead asked, practically bouncing in her pink ballet slippers, the only nod to her away-from-work style. “Just to get Chef T’s goat, I threatened to show up in his kitchen with only my fruit hat on. He took the day off out of fear. Coward. Since he deprived me of my fun, I asked Moira and Natalie to come and drink mimosas with us. I hope that’s okay. Your mother really wanted to watch, but I told her I’d like to keep it to us girls.”
So her mom had gone around her, looking for Jill’s permission to be there since she didn’t have Lucy’s. Lovely. But even though Jill had denied her request, thank God, Lucy wasn’t off scot-free. Moira was going to be a problem. She was probably going to ask her a bunch of photographyquestions and notice if she made any mistakes. Great. Like she wasn’t already nervous enough.
Lucy had never taken photos while drinking a mimosa in her life, but heck, it sounded pretty good about now.
“No mothers,” Lucy said as Jill put an arm around her tense shoulders and led her up the hotel’s wide staircase to the office area where the media room was located. “I figured you probably needed some space for your first photo shoot.”
“You too, Lucy,” Jill said. “We all know this isn’t your normal. I hope it at least can be fun for you.”
Was Jill being all sweet and sensitive now? Lucy almost didn’t know how to take that. Had Andy said something to her? No, he wouldn’t have. “Am I that obvious?” It wouldn’t hurt for the volunteers to think she was nervous because this wasn’t her usual subject matter.
“Yep,” Jill said, shaking her playfully. “But we’ll get through this together. Brian says mymaracasare pretty inspiring.”
Oh, good Lord, here we go. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle that much inspiration, Jill.”
Snickering, she replied, “That’s what he says.”
“You’re so bad,” Lucy said as they made their way down the hallway.
When they entered the media room, Natalie and Moira lifted their glasses in salute.
“Welcome to the Fun House,” Natalie said, pointing to Jill’s hat in the center of the small coffee table.
To say it was a mere sombrero covered in fake fruit would have been an insult to every cross-dressingcaballero.Jill hadn’t selected only tasteful fruits like cherries and apples. No, she’d stuck four bananas, partially raised, in the shape of… Well, any idiot could tell.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it.” Truthfully, she hoped she never would again.
“I made it myself!” Jill said, linking their arms together and leading her over to the cushioned benches in front of the coffee table. “I didn’t like the ones online, and Brian joked that since I was bitching about the selection so much, I should just make one.”
“He now regrets that decision, I bet,” Moira said, chuckling with Natalie.
“How many mimosas have you two already had?” Lucy asked, shaking her head. This photo shoot covered a lot of firsts for her—it was starting to look like it would be her first tipsy shoot too.
“Moira’s only had one,” Natalie said, biting her lip. “She can’t hold her liquor.”
“I really can’t,” Moira said, putting her finger to her nose like Doris Day inPillow Talk.“You’re not much better with your Natalie shows.”
“That takes a lot?—”
“Let’s get started, shall we?” Lucy said, interrupting Natalie. “Jill, I thought we should start off by talking about who you’re dedicating your month to. You didn’t say at the volunteer party. Is it your grandma?”
