Page 1 of Candid Moments
Jamila Payne
Shit! My camera!
In a panic, I unbuckle my seat belt and stretch over the middle console to the back seat. I snatch up my duffle and pull it to the front. As soon as I’m back facing forward, I unzip it and frantically rummage through it.
“Did you grab my camera bag?” I ask Corey as he drives.
“No. Didn’t you pack it?”
“No, because you said you were going to get it. I was in the shower and told you it was on my table by the side of the bed. Corey! Did you get it or not? I ask, irritated as hell.
“No,” he says with no emotion, pissing me the hell off.
“Fuck! We have to go back.” I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from spazzing out. My camera is my child.No woman travels and leaves her baby behind.
“Bae, we can’t turn around. The flight leaves at two and we need to be at CFA before noon. Between the traffic on MainStreet, Park ’n Fly, and slow ass TSA, we are already pushing it. Besides, we are going on vacation; you don’t need it anyway.”
His words are still emotionless but I can hear the finality in them. He isn’t going to turn this damn car around.
“Going to the freezing cold in the middle of February for a class reunion is not a vacation. It’s a stupid ass weekend of events planned in the dead of winter in the smallest town in fucking Nebraska,” I snap. He turns his head, taking his eyes off the busy interstate. When he glares for a second too long, I grit, “Look where you’re going!”
“I can’t believe you are acting like this. I told you our mascot is the Polar Bear so a winter reunion fits,” he scoffs.
“That’s dumb,” I fire back.
“I told you to pack your things last night anyway, not an hour before we leave,” he says and I want to scream.
That’s not the damn point! He left my camera.
Corey and I have been together for a year and a half . We are the poster couple for opposites attract and even though I love him, I can’t stand his ass right now. His compulsive need to be on time for the airport is ridiculous. When it comes to flying, my mantra is as long as I make it on the plane. Not him though, he has to be seated airside at least thirty minutes before boarding time.
This is us.
He’s rational, meticulous, calculating, and organized. I’m dramatic, go-with-the flow, creative, and spontaneous. We met due to a business arrangement and I found his stuffy demeanor cute. His advertising agency hired me to do a photoshoot fora print ad campaign, a men’s athletic wear ad for a sports magazine.
As their financial manager, he was on set to ensure the campaign stayed within the allotted budget. The tall, brown sugar toned man standing in the back corner of the room in an impeccable dark blue suit caught my eye and I wanted to capture him with my lens. He was much more appealing than the models hired for the ad.
I still remember the perturbed look on his face when I asked to do test shots of him. The three professional models were being fitted and I needed to determine the best angles and location for natural light. He was a good sport but it was clear he was uncomfortable as shit. It took almost twenty shots before I got a smile and when I did, I was smitten. The handsome man had a beautiful smile.
By the end of the shot, he was comfortable with me and even flirty. I completed the shoot, Corey kept everyone under budget, and he left with my contact information. A week later we had dinner and three months later we were exclusive. Thinking about our first encounter causes my demeanor and anger to soften.
“Baby, it’s ten-fifteen. We will make it by eleven so we have plenty of time. Can you please turn around so I can get my camera?” I ask.
“Map your house. What does the traffic look like?”
“It’s fine.”
“Map it please. I don’t want to miss our plane. The mixer is tonight and I don’t want to miss it.”
I already know the traffic is fine. It’s a Thursday morning and lunch traffic isn’t until around noon. We will still make our plane if we double back to my place. But because I really want my camera, I humor him and pull up Google Maps on my phone and select Home.
“Eighteen minutes. See,” I say while holding my phone up to his face.
“We better not miss this flight,” he utters as he merges to the left to exit.
Denim Morris
“All of those boxes by the door need to go downstairs. Maybe you should get one of the luggage carts so you don’t make multiple trips,” Maddox says frantically.
