Photo Op

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Photo Op Page 14

by Coleman, Lynn A.


  “Yes, I’m very happy for you. When will you be starting your new job in Boston?” He added the last tidbit for Dena’s benefit.

  “Next week. I have to give the job here a week’s notice.”

  “I’m really happy for you; that’s exciting news. Where are you going to live?”

  “Trev said his parents will let me stay with them until I find a place. But I was wondering if Dena would mind letting me rent the room at her place again. What do you think?”

  “I think you should ask her.” He handed Dena the phone.

  Dena placed it to her ear and listened. “Sure, let’s start with four hundred a month for your rent. You’re free to use what little food I have in the cabinets, but like before, you’ll have to supply most of your groceries because I won’t be around too much. As you know, I’m planning on being in Maine all next month. Same ground rules, right? …Good. I’ll make sure your room is ready for you. I’ll send a key home with your dad. I’ll be on the road when you move in.”

  Dena said, “You’re welcome,” and handed the phone back to him.

  “Hey, Jess, looks like things are coming together for you.”

  “Yeah, I’m so excited I can’t sleep.”

  “Well, try. I’ll be home late tomorrow night. Earlier if I can.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Dad. I have to work until closing tomorrow night. I probably won’t be home until after midnight.”

  “All right, sweetheart. Spend some time with the Lord, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “ ’Night, Daddy, and thank Dena again for me.”

  “Okay, ’night.” He clicked off the phone. “She says thank you again.”

  Dena chuckled. “She’s welcome again. I hope she knows what she’s getting into. It can’t be good that the company hired someone and fired them within a month or so.”

  “I know. I didn’t want to say anything to spoil her night. I’ll bring that up to her one-on-one.”

  “On the other hand, it’s possible the other person just wasn’t right for the position.”

  “True. We’ll have to trust the Lord, won’t we?” He winked. Hadn’t that been some of what Dena had been teaching him all along about grown children?

  Dena chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve heard that a time or two.”

  “Are you sure about driving some?” he asked.

  “Sure. Are you getting sleepy?”

  “I was. It’s a good thing she called when she did. I think I was starting to nod off.”

  “In that case, pull over now. I’ll drive,” Dena insisted.

  Wayne laughed. “I’m wide awake right now. I can make it to the next rest area or exit, whichever comes first.”

  “All right.”

  “Thanks for letting her rent the room. Are you sure four hundred is enough?”

  “It’s low, but it’s still my place, with my rules, so I figure she’ll feel more at home for a while. She’ll want her own place soon.”

  “But she’ll need to save up for it. I’m just worried she and Trevor will make a foolish decision.”

  “Trust her, Wayne. She’s a good kid.”

  “Yeah, I know.” A sign came into view marking an exit in two miles.

  “Have they talked marriage?”

  “I don’t know. Jess hasn’t mentioned it. He’s still living at home. Not that she isn’t, also, but I’ve heard her mention to him a couple of times that he should be looking for his own place. He’s working regular hours and has a good job. He’s just content to stay at home, and I think that concerns Jess.”

  “It would me, also. But it’s tough out there these days. Rents are extremely high, and unless you can get a group of four to rent a place together, it’s almost impossible to afford anything and have money left over for food.”

  He flicked the turn signal on and slowed down for the exit ramp. “Yeah. I’m so proud of her.”

  “It shows.” She tapped him on the knee. “You’re a good father, Wayne. You’ve done well.”

  “Thanks. It was hard being a single parent, especially the single parent of a child of the opposite sex.”

  Dena giggled. “Tell me about it. I had two sons and no male role model other than memories of their dad.”

  “At least you had that.”

  “True. Didn’t Jess’s mother ever want to be a part of her life?”

  “Not really. I talked her out of an abortion, and that made it hard for her in the small town. I can’t blame her for moving away for college and never returning. She still sends Jess a birthday card and various other cards around holidays, but she has never visited with her or asked Jess to come see her.”

  “That’s rough.”

  He pulled into an all-night service station. “Wanna fill up while we’re here?”

  “How’s the gas?”

  “Half a tank.”

  “Nah, there’s more than enough to get us home.” Dena opened the passenger door and slipped out of her seat. She bent down and touched her toes. “Feels good to stretch.”

  He unfolded himself as he got out of the sports car. He had to admit, he liked driving her car more than driving his old truck. It handled the road like nothing he’d ever experienced before. Temptation had been great to kick it up and really test how well it handled the road, but the better part of wisdom won and he drove at respectable speeds.

  “She’s fun to drive, isn’t she?” Dena asked.

  “Yeah, it is. I was just thinking how I’ve never driven anything that hugged the road so well.”

  “You should see it when she’s up at really high speeds.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

  “How fast?” He leaned against the car and reached out to hold her. She stepped into his embrace.

  “A hundred and ten, once. But only for a few seconds. I was too scared to keep driving that fast. I was out west, where you are allowed to drive insanely fast. The highway is straight, flat, and you can see for miles.”

  “I’ve heard about those roads.”

  “Wanna drive them with me sometime?” She leaned into him and kissed him on the cheek, then pulled away just as fast and hopped into the driver’s seat. “Come on, let’s get going.”

  ❧

  Dena couldn’t believe she’d gone so far as to suggest a lengthy road trip with Wayne. Were they ready to make such a commitment to each other? She questioned herself all the way home. She dropped him off at Chad’s, giving him her key to their apartment. He’d stayed there before, so he knew the layout of the place.

  At her own place, she adjusted the thermostat. While she was away, she had left her AC on but at a higher temperature. Enough to keep down the hot summer humidity but not enough to have her electric bill skyrocket. Having Jess rent a room would change her utility bills. Maybe four hundred a month wasn’t high enough. On the other hand, she didn’t pay a mortgage on the place any longer, and the kid needed a helping hand.

  She stripped off her clothes and slipped under a warm shower. Her mind drifted back to the day she’d spent with Wayne. They had so much fun.

  Finishing her shower, she dried off, dressed, and went to her darkroom. The nap in the car had left her wide awake. She placed the film in the darkroom and separated out her personal pictures with Wayne from the work-related ones.

  She shut the door and put on the safelight. Taking a bottle opener, she popped open the metal canister that held the used film and set each roll into its own developing tank. Once done, she flipped on the regular lighting and grabbed her suitcase. She brought it into the laundry room and set a load in the machine, then went back to the darkroom.

  She had developed a pattern of doing things over the years. She poured the chemicals in the proper pans then set up to make some contact prints. Normally, she’d go to bed and rest, finishing the process of selecting which shots to print and printing them. But tonight she wanted to print the ones of Wayne at the statue. Occasionally, she’d written articles to accompany her prints, and she felt there was a story in one of these pictures,
if she had captured on film what he’d captured in her heart.

  She worked for a couple of hours and developed some eight-by-tens of Wayne, making a close-up of his head shot with the background behind him. The contrast was incredible. The rough exterior of the lobsterman-slash-carpenter and the tear of joy, pride, and conviction in his eye, set against the backdrop of the statue were breathtaking.

  The clock read four fifteen. She really should go to bed. She glanced at her computer then marched over and sat down. She tapped out a brief summary of her thoughts and went to bed.

  The phone rang a moment after she fell asleep. Groaning, she reached over and answered. “Hello?”

  “Dena?”

  She yawned. “Wayne, what’s the matter? Why are you calling me at…” She glanced over at the nightstand clock. “Oh dear. I’m sorry, honey. I overslept.” The plan had been for her to pick him up at nine.

  Wayne chuckled. “You didn’t go right to sleep, did you?”

  “Sorry.”

  “No problem. Do you need to sleep longer?”

  “Probably, but I’ll get dressed and pick you up in thirty minutes.”

  “Brianne said she could drive me over. She has some errands to run, and it won’t be out of her way.”

  “All right. Thank Brianne for me. How’s she feeling, by the way?”

  “She’s looking really good. A whole lot better than when I saw her the last time.”

  “Great. Okay, I’ll see you soon. I’ll make breakfast.”

  “Don’t bother. I’ll pick up something on the way over. How late did you stay up?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “Oh?”

  “Four thirty.”

  “Ouch. I’ll drive today.”

  Laughing, she answered, “Any excuse, huh?”

  “You betcha. Love ya. See you soon.”

  “Love ya, too. Bye.”

  Dena threw the covers off and went to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. Of all the supplies she kept in the house while she was away, coffee was a mainstay. She kept a couple of unopened pounds on hand, along with several varieties of flavored coffee beans to be ground. Today she would not take the time to grind the beans. Instead, she popped the plastic lid off a can and measured the grounds into her coffeemaker.

  The coffee set, she scurried back to the bedroom and dressed. She let the rich aroma of the brew filling the apartment draw her to the coffeemaker, where she poured herself a much-needed cup.

  As she lifted the hot liquid to her lips, the doorbell rang. She set the coffee down on the counter and answered the door.

  Wayne smiled and held out a white paper bag. Brianne grinned.

  “Yum. Come on in. The coffee’s ready.” Dena rescued her abandoned mug and took her first sip.

  “We arrived before her first cup.”

  “Ah,” Wayne said and walked into the kitchen.

  “How are you feeling, Brianne?”

  “Good. Chad left this morning. He should be back tonight. The airline is putting him on a more local schedule, allowing him to come home almost every night.”

  “That’s wonderful news.” Dena took another sip of her coffee. The fuzz was beginning to lift from her brain.

  “Why were you up so late?” Wayne poured himself and Brianne a cup of coffee, then set the bear claws on individual plates.

  Dena yawned and stretched. “I was wide awake when I arrived so I decided to develop some pictures.”

  “Do you do this often?”

  “Sometimes.” She walked over to the table, carrying her plate and mug. Brianne and Wayne did likewise. Brianne left her items on the table and walked toward the bathroom.

  “How’d you sleep?” she asked.

  “Fine. I hit the bed and don’t remember a thing. I woke up around eight. That’s oversleeping, for me.”

  She bit into the bear claw. “These are wonderful, thank you.”

  Brianne came wandering back into the room. “These are amazing, Mom.” In her hands were the pictures Dena printed last night.

  “Let me see,” Wayne asked, reaching out for the photos.

  “If you’ll agree, I’d like to send those in with an article. May I?” Dena asked.

  Wayne shook his head no.

  “No?”

  “What?”

  Dena and Brianne looked at him like he had two heads on his shoulders. “The picture is—is—too personal.” He pushed the eight-by-tens away.

  “Wayne, that’s what makes them great photographs,” Dena protested.

  He knew she was right, but he wasn’t about to publicly display a photo of himself with eyes full of tears. Not this guy, he resolved. “I don’t want to discuss this further. I said I’m not interested.”

  Dena let out a loud sigh and sipped her coffee.

  Brianne nibbled at her bear claw.

  Wayne’s right foot started to bounce up and down.

  Another stiff minute passed before Dena cleared her throat. “Honey, before you say no, I mean a final no—I mean, allow me to show you something to see if that will change your mind. Please?”

  Brianne’s head bobbed back and forth from him to Dena as if she were watching a tennis match.

  “Dena, I know I’m sounding unreasonable here but—”

  She leaned over and placed her forefinger to his lips. “Shh. Just let me show you the other part before you completely decide against it.”

  He nodded his assent. There was nothing she could show him that would make him change his mind. He’d be the laughingstock of Squabbin Bay if folks saw him with a tear in his eye. Having Dena’s son as his pastor guaranteed the picture would make the rounds. And that was something he just couldn’t stomach, no matter what else she had to show him. He glanced over at the photograph of himself once again. How humiliating. At the same time, all the emotions he felt standing there at the base of the Statue of Liberty flooded back in.

  “Thank you. I promise I won’t bring it up again if you say no after what I show you.”

  “Uh-huh,” he mumbled and filled his mouth with a huge bite of the sweet bear claw.

  Brianne stood up from the table. “I’ve got to run, Mom. I’ll call you later. Bye, Wayne.”

  “Bye. Thanks for the place to stay last night.”

  “No problem.”

  “I’ll walk you to the elevator,” Dena offered.

  He knew she wanted to say something private, like it wasn’t Brianne’s fault for his ugly disposition. And she’d be right—it had nothing to do with Brianne and everything to do with Dena. How could she take such a photograph of him?

  A moment later she walked back into the apartment. She stood beside him with her hands on her hips. “All right, what just happened here?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?” she huffed then returned to her chair. “I’ve never seen you behave like this. What’s going on here, Wayne? That’s a perfectly good picture and worthy of printing. I don’t understand your refusal.”

  “I have my reasons.” Pride comes before the fall, or something like that, he recalled.

  “Well, you keep your reasons to yourself until after I show you what I wrote.”

  “You write?”

  “Occasionally I’ll write a small piece to accompany a picture. I’m no Tom Clancy; a few choice words could cause people to look at the picture once again with a different eye, perhaps. I don’t know.”

  She writes, Lord? How did I not know this? Here I am considering asking this woman to marry me, and I don’t know something as basic as this.

  Dena left the kitchen and returned with a piece of paper in hand. “It’s rough, but it will give you the general idea of what I thought I should say.”

  Taking in a deep breath, he reached for the page and began to read. A fresh tear came to his eye. He began taking in short, gasping breaths then long, slow ones to calm down. He let the paper drift back to the table.

  “You can use my picture,” he mumbled and walked away. He need
ed air. He needed space. He walked out of the apartment building, down the slight hill, and across the street to walk along the Charles River. Water always calmed him.

  “She’s good, Lord.”

  Seventeen

  Dena didn’t know whether or not to be relieved by Wayne’s change of heart about using his picture. In reality, she was more confused. “What caused him to react that way, Lord?”

  The kitchen now cleaned, she switched the loads of laundry she’d put in the night before, then proceeded into the darkroom to look at her contacts from the shoot. She needed to do something. Who knows how long Wayne is going to walk off steam? If that’s what he’s walking off. He’s obviously upset, but I don’t know if he is angry or what. More like betrayed, she guessed.

  The smells of the chemicals assailed her as she walked in. She noticed a pan filled with solution. Pulling on a pair of rubber gloves, she disposed of the chemical. It wasn’t like her to leave the room in this shape. She scanned the area for any other item that seemed out of place.

  “Dena,” Wayne hollered.

  She dropped the gloves in the sink and went out to the living room. “I think we need to talk.” She approached him slowly and gestured for him to sit on the couch.

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting to see myself crying in a photograph. I felt betrayed. It’s like, I felt safe enough with you to let down my guard a little and—boom—you wanted to expose it to the entire world. I’m not used to this, Dena. Have you often used your family as models for photographs?”

  “No, not really. There’s been a print or two, but not many. When they were younger, I’d hang their school pictures in my studio. I had the school contract, so it was my work.” She was rambling a bit. “Wayne, I’m not sure why it bothered you. I mean, it’s a beautiful, touching moment. I’m pleased with how well the photograph captured your emotions. That doesn’t always happen.”

  “Dena, I don’t know how to explain this other than to simply state it. I’m a man. Men don’t cry, at least not in public. You were asking to let the entire world see me cry. Do you have any idea how hard that is for a man? For me?”

  “I hadn’t thought about that.”

  He leaned back and closed his eyes. “You’re right. It’s a powerful picture, and your words will make a strong statement.”

 

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