“Not a chance. Greg and I decided three kids are plenty. We’re not having more. Besides, I’m a fair hand with a sewing machine. I’m trying to think if any of my outfits couldn’t be altered. I’m sure they can all be made to fit you.”
“So…you think I shouldn’t tell Wyatt I’m pregnant even after I start to show? I don’t know, that seems deceitful.”
Brenda shrugged one shoulder. “You said you need the job, and I know Wyatt needs you. I’m not suggesting you never tell him—just wait until he’s had a chance to get comfortable working with you. It might not even take too long. You have a really nice, calm demeanor. The perfect fit for Wyatt.”
“I need to give this some serious thought, Brenda. And maybe you should withhold judgment on how perfect I am until after I photograph you and the boys.”
“Then let’s get this show on the road. Are you feeling better? Your stomach, I mean.”
“You know…I am. The ginger tea helped. I’ll have to buy some on my way home.”
“Take some of mine when you go. I’ve got lots.”
“That’s so kind.” Casey felt relieved after their talk. She understood Wyatt’s gruffness now. Plus, it was good to get a few things off her chest. Casey sensed a rapport developing with Brenda that she hadn’t expected. It would be lovely to have someone to confide in.”
“Let me go dress the boys in something suitable,” Brenda said. “If you help me keep them corralled, I’ll change my blouse and run a comb through my hair, and we’ll be set for pictures.”
“Why don’t I take a few candid shots of them playing? I need to check my meter against the lighting anyway, so that’ll give you a few minutes to yourself.”
“I could hug you. I’ll see if I have matching outfits that still fit them, other than the ones they and the dog got dirt all over.”
“It might go more smoothly if we include him in the pictures. I find that kids often act calmer around a favorite pet,” Casey said as they moved from the kitchen to the living room.
“What a great idea. Hadley was Greg’s dog before we got married. Greg would be touched to see him in the photos.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do. Oh, you have a brick fireplace. Great backdrop. I brought some silk squares to drape over your couch. I’ll hold off to see what goes with the outfits you pick out. I generally try a variety of backgrounds, but I lean toward natural, subtle textures. We can shoot several and see what suits you.”
“So far everything you’ve mentioned sounds great. I’ll probably want copies of every shot. Goodness knows what I’ll do with them all.”
“If the boys have grandparents, a nice photo of the kids alone would make a terrific gift.”
“Greg’s parents live in Florida, and they’re always begging for pictures. My mom doesn’t live so far off. Just a couple of hours away, in Kerrville, so she sees the boys pretty often. Still, I imagine she’d like a wallet photo to show her bridge group. Oh, and Greg’s mother’s birthday is the week after his. When will you have these ready for me to look at? I’ll need to drop by the studio without Greg knowing.”
“Wyatt’s probably going to do the finishing work. He said he would until the studio gets busier. I hope that’s soon. One of my favorite things about photography is helping clients select the best shots.”
“I’ll tell Wyatt I want you to help me.”
“No, don’t. He might think I instigated it.”
Brenda left then, and Casey bustled about checking the light. After the triplets and Brenda were ready, she put Hadley in the middle, petting him and made faces to make the boys giggle. “Perfect,” she murmured. “Brenda, you’re photogenic. I predict your husband and your family will absolutely love these pictures.”
“At this rate I’ll have to get a loan to pay for all the copies I’m going to want. I hope Wyatt knows what a gem he has in you, Casey. I wouldn’t have thought about including the dog in the photos. Details like that are what make you an invaluable partner.”
“Employee,” Casey hastened to say. “Don’t use the term partner around Wyatt, please. That would surely remind him of Angela, and I wouldn’t want him to think I was trying to take her place.”
Brenda started to comment, but was interrupted by Casey’s cell phone. “It’s Wyatt,” Casey hissed. “I wonder what he wants.”
“Take the call and see,” she said drily.
Casey felt her nervous jitters return. “H-Hello,” she stuttered.
His voice boomed out through the phone. “Is everything all right at the Moores’?”
“Fine. Why?”
“The note you left said you were meeting Brenda at ten. It’s two o’clock now. If you’re going to take this long on every appointment, I’ll have to adjust our schedule.”
He spoke so loudly that Brenda no doubt heard. She grabbed the phone from Casey. “Wyatt, it’s Brenda. One of your darling godsons dumped two pots of African violets all over the carpet. The boys and Hadley had a grand old time playing in the dirt just before Casey arrived. No, it wasn’t funny. It meant the lot of them needed hosing down and the living room needed vacuuming. So it’s our fault the appointment’s run late. Don’t be chewing out poor Casey. She handled the delay like a pro. We’re almost done. But remember, this is a surprise for Greg. I’m buying an eight-by-ten for his office, a bigger one for over our fireplace, and different poses for Greg’s folks and my mom—at Casey’s suggestion. You’re lucky to have found her, Wyatt. She’s a keeper.”
There was silence, then Casey heard him say, “Tell her to stop by the studio before she goes home.”
With a self-satisfied smile, Brenda clicked off and passed Casey the phone. “Under all his growl, Wyatt’s sweet. Remember that, if he snaps. But don’t let him walk all over you, either.”
“I won’t,” she said, dropping down to fit her equipment back in her camera case. “If I can get past feeling so sorry for him for his loss. And if I can quit feeling guilty over lying to him.”
“It’s not lying. The way I see it, you’re saving him from making the bigger mistake of letting you get away. You know what? Legally, he can’t let you go because of your pregnancy. And knowing Wyatt as I do, I honestly don’t think he’d do that even if it hurts him to think of Angela when he sees you pregnant.”
Casey hugged Brenda. “I’m so glad you were my first assignment. Guilt’s been eating me up. You have a gift for putting things into perspective.”
“You deserve a break, and Wyatt deserves a chance to get back on his feet,” Brenda said, walking her to the door. “If you need me to smack that jerk ex-husband of yours, I’d be happy to.”
“I should have listened to my girlfriends. They tried to warn me not to trust him.”
“Don’t make excuses for the bum. Guys like that aren’t entitled to any.”
“You’re good for my ego. Next time I feel down, do you mind if I call you?”
“Not at all. Hey, why don’t I dig out that box of maternity things tomorrow, and we’ll set a date to go over them when I come to see my proofs. Out of Wyatt’s earshot, of course.”
The triplets toddled up and Casey dropped a kiss on each curly head. “I hope I have just one baby, Brenda, and that he or she is as cute and as healthy as your boys.”
“Thanks. I forget sometimes how cute they are. Incidents like this morning notwithstanding.” She laughed and the women said a final goodbye.
THE JOY CASEY FELT at making her first potential friend carried over, allowing her to sweep into the studio with a new bounce to her step. She set one of four boxes of announcement postcards on the counter. “I finished these last night, but I didn’t want to mail them until you had a look,” she told Wyatt as he emerged from the back room.
“You got them all done? Weren’t there about a thousand clients on that list?”
“Twelve hundred or so.”
Wyatt pulled one card from the box. “These look fantastic,” he said. “You must have worked all night on them.”
�
��That’s the way I am. Once I start a project, I like to see it finished. I probably only worked until midnight. And very likely I would’ve been up anyway.”
“A night owl, huh? Boy, I can relate.”
Casey felt her throat go dry. She swallowed hard and glanced away. He had no idea she knew why he spent sleepless nights. It made her feel ten times guiltier for knowing.
Wyatt seemed to have reached his limit for idle chatter. He cleared his throat and returned the card to the box. “Get them in the mail. I have an appointment in half an hour with a professor from the agriculture program at the University of Texas. They’ve sold the beef the students raised, but apparently have two promising young bulls they’d like to advertise in a stock magazine. It’ll take a little while, so I won’t be back here today. Please lock up when you leave. Forward any calls to my home. I wrote down how to do that, and left the note on my desk.”
“If you’re not coming back to the studio, should I print the photos I took for Brenda Moore?”
“I’ll do them tomorrow. You probably haven’t used my type of digital darkroom software.”
“I’ll bet I can figure it out. I used quite a few different programs in Dallas. I started working for the Howells when I was in eighth grade. And Len liked the latest, greatest innovations, too. Dolly teased him that they were going broke buying new stuff.” Thinking about the Howells sent a ripple of nostalgia through Casey.
Wyatt eyed her speculatively. “You certainly stuck with one job a long time. What made you leave it and move to Round Rock?”
Casey was sorely tempted to spill her guts. But remembering Brenda’s advice, she said simply, “I got married.” As she expected, Wyatt backed off from remarking on anything personal.
“Okay, uh…” He slapped a hand on the box of announcements. “After you mail these, go ahead and try out the software. But I’d prefer if you experimented on older photos first, not Brenda’s. You’ll find a folder on the computer desktop labeled Portraits and Weddings.”
“All right. Oh, I had an idea for an initiative to go along with the postcards. When I worked for the Howells, we designed and took pictures for engagement announcements that couples would mail out. I don’t know if they’re big here, but they were wildly popular in Dallas and very profitable for the studio.”
“I’ve never done anything like that. What kind of design did you use?”
“A tri-fold card. Pastel flowers on the cover. A photo of the engaged couple in the center. A love poem on the final third, plus the couple’s names and date of their engagement.”
“That sounds very mushy.”
“They sold like hotcakes. But maybe couples in Dallas are more sentimental. They might not work here.”
“Austinites are no different. There are young lovers everywhere,” Wyatt said slowly, tugging at his lower lip. “Tell you what. If you put together a sample—take any photo out of our archives—we’ll give your idea a whirl. Our second-most profitable enterprise after weddings were grad photos. Since we’ve missed this year’s June brides and grads, these engagement announcements might help bring in some new clients. In fact, if you’ll create an ad, I’ll run it in Sunday’s paper over the next few weeks.”
“Sure, I’d be happy to. Len advertised a lot, so I’ve done that sort of job before. Competition in our area was stiff.”
“Keene’s grew mostly through word of mouth, but more studios are opening here,” Wyatt admitted. He released a breath. “I won’t lie. I’d prefer to quit doing weddings altogether. But I’m proud of Keene Studio. We were full service and I won’t let that die.”
“Oh.” Casey didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t betray her knowledge of Angela’s death.
“What I’m trying to get at,” he continued, “is that I let Greg twist my arm to hire help, and it appears I made the best choice, Mrs. Sinclair, uh…Casey.”
“Thanks,” she said, feeling her face flush at his praise. Her smile wobbled. If he thawed out a bit, Wyatt Keene would be a great guy. Brenda claimed he’d supported his wife in everything—the kind of partner Casey imagined having. The kind she’d once thought Dane was. It made her feel melancholy to realize that however different the reasons, her and Wyatt’s marriages had both ended badly.
“Is everything all right?” he asked. “You looked miles away for a minute.”
She dredged up another smile, but it was harder to hold.
“Oh, wait, I get it,” he said, closing his eyes. “Brenda told you about Angela. I should’ve known she would. They were friends. We all were—are,” he stammered. “Those of us left.” Fiddling with his watch, he muttered, “It’s probably for the best, anyway. Now that you know, there’s no reason to mention it again.” Wyatt scooped up his camera case, which he’d left near the door, and with a jingle of the bell, he was gone.
Casey planted both elbows on the counter and rubbed her face. As if that could scour away the sympathy she felt for her boss. Straightening, she started organizing the postcards—just doing her job. It wouldn’t do to let herself feel too much of anything for Wyatt Keene. It wouldn’t do at all.
CHAPTER FOUR
IT HAD BEEN TWO WEEKS since Casey had taken the Moore pictures. Brenda couldn’t come to look at them yet because the boys caught back-to-back colds. Business had picked up at the studio, though, and Casey was happily busy. She and Wyatt rarely crossed paths. They communicated through phone messages and scribbled notes stuck to each other’s desk blotters.
She’d left printing the Moore photos to him, and he hadn’t done them yet. During her off hours, Casey had created an ad, which had run twice and brought in new customers. She still needed to finish a mock-up of the engagement card, but was feeling more settled now that money was coming in. Her share of the profits covered her food, mortgage, gas and utilities. That was all she needed for the moment.
Today her first appointment was at three at a client’s home, giving her plenty of time to work on the mock-up. She popped in to the studio early to look for an appropriate photo in Wyatt’s archives. He had ten years’ worth stored in banks of lateral files along the walls in the prop room. She made her way past the stacks of equipment—tripods, umbrella lights, racks of rolled backdrops—to find what she needed. She skimmed a hand over a footbridge—a prop for indoor family portraits—knowing her objective today was to unearth the right photo.
She leafed through the folders of prints in the first drawer. No appropriate romantic couples. Moving to the next drawer, she wondered if she’d find any old photos of Wyatt’s wife. Casey shouldn’t be this curious, but she was.
She didn’t come across Angela’s name on any folders. Odd, because the photographers Casey knew couldn’t resist trying out a new lens or camera on themselves or on coworkers. In Wyatt’s case, his wife and partner.
Most couples she turned up in the files didn’t suit her purposes. Grad photos were too distinct; so were brides and their wedding parties. Keene’s had done tons of milestone anniversaries. She sorted through dozens of those shots. The stats on one white-haired couple said they were celebrating seventy-five years of marriage. Casey gazed at their photo. Angela Keene had captured the love flowing between the pair. Their faces were lined, but serene. Casey touched the print with reverence. What an accomplishment, making marriage last a lifetime. It made her sad to recall how quickly hers had disintegrated.
Growing up as she had, without a father, and with a mother who refused to even name him, Casey had created an idealized notion of what made a happy marriage. Len and Dolly had been great surrogates, but even they couldn’t make up for the uncertainty and insecurity of her early years. She dreamed of finding her father.
Casey had always hoped her mom would relent and supply her father’s name, but Pam Landis had taken her secret to her grave. Worse, Pam’s parents had disowned her before Casey was born. Casey had never met her grandparents, and now they would never meet their great-grandchild. What a shame. Children needed the love of extended family.
&n
bsp; As she put the photo of the long-married couple back in the file, she took a moment to wonder if Dane had told his folks about their split or their baby—or if he ever would. The Sinclairs were both overbearing and overindulgent when it came to Dane and his sister. Their mother was a well-known Dallas socialite, their father a tycoon. Would they want to be grandparents?
Shaking off these distressing thoughts, Casey left the archives and headed off to one of Austin’s parks. Maybe she’d meet some young lovers who fit the look she wanted for her prototype—and who wouldn’t mind signing a release to let her use their picture.
Only a few people were in the park. Darn, if Wyatt hadn’t left a note saying he was going to the university to take more photos for the agriculture department, she could have gone there to find a couple. No doubt lots of students would be out and about on such a sunny day, but with her luck she’d run into Wyatt. Casey didn’t want him to think she’d gone there to see him.
Ah, finally a couple kissing. She got off two shots and would have taken more, but the man glanced up, and gave Casey such a dirty look that she knew he’d never sign a release form.
Worried about wasting time, she hurried back to her car. On the way, she passed a twenty-something duo, walking along, holding hands. Casey snapped several pictures of their joined hands from behind. It might work. A picture hinting at romance and the possibility of an engagement. She liked that.
Rushing back to the studio, she had a better idea. She could use the photo of the kissing couple and play with shading until they were just a silhouette.
She hadn’t actually used Wyatt’s print program before, the one he acted so touchy about. But his note had said he planned to go straight home from the university. She’d have time to fiddle a bit before her appointment.
Wyatt’s program definitely had more features than any she’d used at Len and Dolly’s, but luckily, she found the software manual next to his computer. When ready, she plugged in her chip and set to work blanking out any identifying features of the amorous pair from the park. It took a lot of finessing to blur their features and darken them. Oops, too dark. Casey couldn’t see their faces enough to distinguish the kiss.
The Baby Album Page 5
