Page 7 of Almost Us

“I promise.”

A few hours after Oliver leaves, my phone rings and Mom’s face smiles at me from the screen. As soon as I say hello, she asks, “What’s wrong?”

My voice is husky from crying so I shouldn’t be surprised. “Oliver is in trouble.” She listens while I explain everything that’s happened—minus me riding Oliver and yelling Alden’s name.

“We’re coming up there. I know you wanted to skip the holidays this year, but—”

“No. There’s nothing you can do, Mom. He has a good lawyer and we’re waiting to see what comes next. For now, he’s back to work and back to living at the shop. He’s starting to recover memories here and there. I need to focus on my business for the next few weeks too.”

“Alright.” Her tone doesn’t hide her displeasure. “I hate to think of you being alone right now, Ella. Especially with the holidays coming.”

“I’ll be fine. I won’t be alone. I’ll go to a friend’s house on Thanksgiving. Smith has already invited me, and you know I can go to Tori’s.” It’s time to change the subject. “Did you call for something before I dropped that bombshell on you?”

“Oh, yes, I was calling about Christmas plans, but it might not be such a great idea now. Garrett invited us to come to Alaska to stay for two weeks with him and his girlfriend. He plans to call and invite you too. I think he’s going to propose to her.”

“That’s great news! Will you please tell him why I can’t come? I’m not up to celebrating this year and I want to be near Oliver while all this is going on.”

“Yes, yes, of course.”

“You and Dad go. Go make sure the poor woman knows what she’s getting into. Let me know if they get engaged so I can call and congratulate them.”

“I’ll do that.” She pauses for a moment. “How are you, Ella?”

My reflection leaps out at me when I walk past my bedroom mirror, and I pause to look at my puffy face. “I’ve had better days, Mom, but overall, I’m doing alright. I’m scared for Oliver, and there’s never a day I don’t miss Alden like hell, but I’m getting through it. I’m going to focus on work. You remember I was talking about rebranding? Changing the name of my studio?” It’s not something I really give half a fuck about right now but if she doesn’t think I’m okay, she’ll cancel her trip to visit my brother.

“I do! Did you choose a new name?”

“I’m going to stop accepting boudoir clients. They’re few and far between. I want to concentrate on the maternity and infant side of things. I was thinking of naming it Babies and Bellies.”

“That’s absolutely adorable! I can’t wait to see what you do with it.”

We talk for a few more minutes while she complains good naturedly about the new dog Dad got and how she wanted a cat. When we hang up, I feel a little better. Silence closes in around me quickly, and I distract myself by heading to my computer to research a new logo for Babies and Bellies. Maybe it’s time to make that rebranding happen. It’ll give me something to concentrate on other than Oliver.

* * *

The red tape that’s necessary to legally change my business name will take a bit to process but I’ve gotten things moving. When I initially chose to call it Ella’s, it was a quick decision I hadn’t given much thought to. At that point, I had my doubts it’d last long. I knew I’d change it at some point, but after Alden’s death, I couldn’t care about anything like that.

In between maternity shoots over the next couple of days, I start cleaning out the loft area where I used to do boudoir pics. I can use this extra space to set up another area for the infants. It’s become my favorite part of this job, even though it’s the most challenging.

Babies don’t cooperate. They scream and pee and sometimes shit. But getting them to calm and seeing how adorable they look curled up in an oversized teacup or tucked into a tiny hammock is worth it. It’s almost as rewarding as the expressions on the parent’s face—and the occasional happy tears—when they see their baby’s photos.

The tinkle of the bell at the front door surprises me while I’m unpacking some new props, and I peek down over the loft to see a woman walk up to the front desk. I don’t get too many people walk in to make an appointment, but some like to check the place out in person first.

“Hi,” I call, descending the stairs. “Can I help you?”

“Are you Ella?” she asks.

“That’s me.”

“Perfect.” If this woman is pregnant or has just had a baby, I’ll eat my shoes. She’s far too put together to have a screaming newborn at home. She reaches her hand out to me. “I’m Angela Dash. I’m a contributor to Modern Motherhood Magazine. I’ve seen some of your work and I’d like to speak to you about featuring Ella’s in our next issue.”

A smile grows on her face while I fight the knot tied in my tongue. Modern Motherhood is a nationally distributed magazine that’s found in most places that women frequent. I was perusing one at the salon recently. Being featured in those pages would be huge for my business.

“That’s…wonderful. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Please, let’s have a seat over here,” I offer, leading her over to a sofa. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No thank you.” She pulls her phone out and holds it where I can see one of my photos that’s been shared on social media. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but quite a few of your photos have gone viral online. They’re very popular and it’s not hard to see why.”

“I don’t really spend time on social media lately. I’ve noticed an uptick in calls for appointments. That explains it.”

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