“Overnight? Are you back in the States?”
“Yeah, I’ll tell you about it in a while. Anyway, I also have rolls and rolls of film I need to develop. Might have better shots there.”
“The digital will be enough for now. I’ll mark the best images and submit them as soon as the CDs arrive.”
“What about Evan?” Cory asked.
“The writer? You let me deal with him. Nobody tries to preempt one of my photographers without paying for it—nobody.”
“Was the editor tempted to go with his photographs, do you think? I bet he’d sell them a lot cheaper.”
“Honey, cheaper is exactly what those photos are. Don’t worry about any of it. You leave it to me.”
Cory was glad to do so, though her heart hurt much more than she would admit. How could Evan do this to her? She’d really thought they had a chance at something special. Now he’d tried to steal her job.
This was working up to being a terrible day.
“So what is going on with you, dear?” Vikki asked. “Why are you in the States? I didn’t think you planned to come back so soon.”
Cory found her need to talk overshadowed her desire for privacy. “It’s my sister,” she said. “She and her husband drowned in a boating accident almost four weeks ago now. She left behind a daughter. The minute I found out, I hopped on a plane.”
“Oh, how awful! I’m so sorry. How’s your niece?”
“She seems to be doing well. But there’s a problem with custody. Apparently my sister left her to a single guy.”
“A man? Was she crazy?”
“Must have been.”
“Are you going to fight it?”
“I plan to. That’s why I’m staying in Utah for a while. I have to find a good attorney.”
“I’ll make a few calls.” Vikki’s voice became businesslike again. “I had a killer attorney during my divorce, and I’ll bet he’ll know someone. You just sit tight.”
Cory breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Vikki,” she said softly. “I was feeling very alone.”
“Well, dear, you’re not. I’m here. After two years of working together, you should know that. Now I’ll get back with you by Monday, okay? Meanwhile, rest up. Shoot off a few fireworks next week for the Fourth. Get your fill of patriotism because it’s back to the Amazon for you before too long. Remember we have National Geographic to do.”
Joy swept through Cory. “You mean . . . ?”
“Yes, dear, you got the job.”
“Whoo-hoo!” Cory bounced on the bed, punching her fist in the air.
“You have a month until you start, so we should be able to get your problems cleared up by then. Or at least on their way. Just don’t forget me when they decide to hire you full time and send you to exotic places all over the world.”
“Believe me, I won’t!”
“Do you need funds? We’re due a payment as soon as I get some of the pictures to the editor.”
“Well, I have some savings left over from my dad’s life insurance, but I have no idea how much I’ll need for the attorney.”
“I’ll get money into your account by Monday.”
“I appreciate it. I’ll also need to arrange some darkroom equipment or send the undeveloped film to you.” But now that she was Stateside, Cory didn’t want to send the film to Vikki. Though she trusted her agent, developing the film, playing with the colors, was part of what she loved about her job.
“Keep the film for now until I see what you’ve sent me. Then we’ll decide what to do. I did bring some equipment to my parents’ house, since I knew I’d be here a month for my mother’s hip replacement, but doing it here and then sending the photographs for your input might be cutting things a little short for our deadline. We’ve only got, what, eight days, not counting today? Let’s play it by ear.”
Cory thanked her again and hung up the phone. For a moment, she chewed on her nails while she watched her e-mail sending, wishing she had a faster connection. Spitting out a piece of fingernail, she left the laptop working and began unpacking her meager belongings. If she ended up staying an entire month, she’d need to find a cheaper place to stay. Preferably one closer to EmJay.
Thinking of the baby, she pondered over Mitch and EmJay. He really was good with her, and EmJay seemed content. Maybe AshDee knew what she was doing.
Cory immediately pushed the unwanted thought aside. Leaving EmJay with a man who wasn’t even related—a single, Mormon man, for that matter—simply wasn’t an option. Her sister had never expected to die, that was all.
Anger and helplessness filled Cory’s heart, but she wasn’t sure where to direct her feelings. So many had betrayed her: AshDee, her father, and even her mother, who had deserted them by dying so young. And now Evan. She’d hoped Evan was different. “Stupid man,” she muttered. “I’m better off without him.”
When she met up with Evan again, she’d have a thing or two to say. Better yet, she’d invite him into the jungle for a romantic picnic and lose him near a den of jaguars. She snorted at this fantasy. Evan would likely be long gone from the Amazon by the time she returned. She would have to settle for writing him a scathing e-mail. Tearing off another bit of nail with her teeth, she grabbed her purse and left the room to find a place to mail her CDs.
On Sunday morning Cory put on the same dress she’d worn the day before, not possessing another suitable choice. She was lucky to have this one summer dress that she’d planned to wear dancing with Evan. Maybe she should invest in another dress.
“What am I thinking?” she said aloud to her reflection in the mirror. “It’s not as if I’m planning to go to church more than once.” She frowned at herself, noting how her freckles had darkened and made her look quite tan if she stood back from the mirror. AshDee had always been so careful of her skin, either avoiding the sun or wearing a hat.
At the last moment, she pulled out her makeup and lined her eyes with dark brown pencil. A little mascara and lipstick helped her feel immensely more alive. Ready to do battle, she thought. Sweeping up her purse, she checked to make sure she had her wallet, credit card, and trusty Nikon.
Outside, the weather was slightly chilly, but the clear blue sky promised heat later in the day. To the east, the mountains were dressed in brilliant green, as though they too had somewhere important to go.
Mitch pulled up as she walked around to the front of the motel. He jumped out and opened her door, making her feeling ridiculously feminine. “You look nice,” he commented.
“You’ll get sick of this dress, believe me. When I heard about AshDee, I was in Manaus, a few days downriver from my camp. I’d only packed enough for a week.”
“I could never get sick of that dress.” He grinned and shut her door.
As he walked around the car, she noticed that he was basically wearing the same clothes he’d worn yesterday as well, only this time instead of a suit jacket, he had donned the more casual one he’d been carrying over his arm.
Cory turned and smiled at EmJay, who was in the car seat, decked out in a blue dress, white tights, and blue shoes. A matching blue ribbon circled her head. “Jay daggona much-da,” she said.
“Good morning,” Cory replied. “I missed you, too.”
EmJay giggled and turned to watch Mitch slide into the car.
Putting the car in gear, he asked, “Why do you call your sister AshDee? Even Lane called her Ashley.”
Cory smiled. “Her full name was Ashley Dawn.”
“Oh, I guess that makes sense then.”
“Only if you know that when she was born I was two and couldn’t say Ashley Dawn. That’s what my mother called her.” Cory looked out the window, quiet for a moment as she remembered her mother’s soft voice, a ghost whisper from a long-forgotten childhood.
“Is that why Ashley called Emily Jane by her full name—because her mother called her by two names?”
“Yes.” Cory focused her attention back to him. “Our mother grew up watching reruns of a show cal
led The Waltons where all the children had two names. She loved it. My father didn’t let her do that with me, but Mom put her foot down when my sister was born. AshDee wanted to carry on the tradition with her daughter.”
“But you called her AshDee.” Mitch glanced at her. “Did she like it?”
“I wouldn’t have used it if she didn’t. We were close growing up. Our mother died when AshDee was ten, so we were closer than most sisters. We did everything together. We even planned our children’s names.”
“She’d already picked out Emily Jane?” Mitch glanced in the rearview mirror at the baby.
“Yep, and I joked that I’d call her EmJay.”
“Ah, I see.”
Cory took a deep breath. “Now you know why I should raise EmJay. She’ll want to know about her mother. You can’t possibly know as much about my sister as I do.”
He didn’t reply, and Cory was sure she’d scored a serious blow.
A short time later, they pulled into a church parking lot. Cory jumped out and beat him to the backseat to release EmJay. “This isn’t the same church as yesterday,” she said, holding EmJay close and breathing in the scent of what she assumed was baby shampoo.
“Same church, a different location.”
“There seem to be a lot of them. Didn’t we pass a few on our way here?”
“This is Utah. We have a lot of members.”
“Oh, right.” Despite herself, Cory was curious about his religion. She’d heard a lot of crazy things from her father, most of which she no longer believed, but it would be interesting to see for herself exactly why her father had protested Ashley’s involvement with the Mormons so vehemently.
“I could find you a Baptist church, if you’d like,” Mitch told her as they stepped onto the sidewalk.
“No, thanks.”
“I thought you were a Baptist. Or don’t you plan to be here that long?”
She planned to stay only as long as it took to get EmJay, but that was beside the point. “I was a Baptist. I think I might be an atheist now.” Her parents would be horrified at the revelation, but she didn’t believe they could know anything now that they were dead. As for her lost faith—well, her father was to thank for that. Or at least he had been in the beginning.
“I don’t believe it.” Mitch was shaking his head. “Ashley said her religious upbringing was why she was able to recognize the truth when she found it.”
Cory stopped walking and clutched EmJay a little tighter. “Truth? I’m supposed to accept that? You Mormons are so egocentric. You alone have the truth. Everyone else is wrong and therefore going to the devil.” She fell silent as a couple passed them on the sidewalk. As soon as they were out of hearing range, Mitch picked up where she’d left off.
“Well, at least we’re nonpartisan about our egotism. From what I gather, your father hated only Mormons.”
“That’s because you’re not Christian.”
“That’s funny. I thought the name of my church was The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”
Cory hadn’t known that. Turning away so he wouldn’t see her confusion, she started down the sidewalk again.
“Look,” he said, following her, “all I’m asking is for you to listen.”
Her emotions were under control enough for her to say, “I’m here, aren’t I? Not that it’ll make a difference.”
“It would to Ashley. But, hey, I don’t care what you do.”
Cory stopped before the double glass doors, trying to control her rising irritation as he seemed to do so easily. “I want a copy of Ashley’s will and any guardianship papers. I’ll need to go over them with my attorney.” She should have requested a copy in Texas, but in her haste to get to Utah, she’d forgotten.
“Fair enough.” He opened a door for her. “Come on, it’s about to begin.”
Mitch took a seat toward the back near the aisle in case he had to leave with EmJay. The chapel was nearly full, but there didn’t seem to be any families. In fact, there was only one other child. That didn’t make sense. The one thing Cory remembered Ashley saying before she’d left California was that she’d found a church where families could be together forever. Apparently not in church. Had they left their children home? She watched carefully, noticing that while there were a few young couples, most people sat with friends. There were no older people at all except a man on the stand behind the pulpit.
Cory’s interest was returned. There were admiring glances from the men—all dressed in white shirts and dress pants—and curious ones from the women. No one present looked cultish or odd in any way.
Then again, neither had her sister. Cory felt irritated.
The opening hymn was followed by a prayer, and then the older man made several announcements that made no sense to Cory. After he sat down, there was another hymn, followed by what Mitch termed the passing of the sacrament. She remembered taking a sacrament in her own church, and this wasn’t all that different. Cory passed the trays of water and bread to Mitch without taking any.
When that awkwardness was finished, a man gave a talk about tithing, quoting several Old Testament scriptures and stories as examples. Cory was familiar with much of it; tithing had been one of her father’s favorite subjects. He’d been openly disgruntled at how few people in their church had actually complied with the law, robbing themselves, he told her, of blessings. She’d always thought it odd that her father hadn’t paid the church, either, but instead kept scrupulous records to make sure he used ten percent of his income on charitable purposes. Even the cost of an egg the neighbors borrowed was deducted from his total. He told her that because he was in tune with the Lord, he knew better where to use the money than their pastor.
Mitch appeared uncomfortable during the tithing discourse and kept darting unnerving glances at her. EmJay had fallen asleep on his lap, and Cory wondered if his leg was cramped.
After that meeting, they went to a smaller room identified as the new member class. “Just in case you have questions,” Mitch said. Cory was glad, because she had a lot of questions. Mitch introduced her as EmJay’s aunt, who’d come to visit. She wasn’t sure why it irritated her that he made it so clear they weren’t a couple.
The prayer was scarcely offered when she began by asking why all the men wore white shirts. Was there some significance that all the women wore dresses with sleeves? What exactly was a ward? And didn’t they believe in marriage and children?
“Oh, this is a singles ward,” explained the man who was teaching the class. “Mitch, didn’t you tell her that?”
“Uh, no.” He hung his head. “I guess I figured she’d know.”
A singles group! Finally, some sense. But it still didn’t explain why those two young men in the second row had the same first name and were wearing black name tags with white lettering.
After learning about the missionaries, she wanted to know about plural wives and temples. Her father had said something negative about Mormon temples, but she couldn’t remember what. Cory enjoyed herself immensely during that hour. She especially liked the way the teacher flushed when she challenged him and how Mitch and the two men with name tags kept jumping to the rescue.
The best thing happened near the end, when the woman on the other side of Mitch screamed and jumped from her chair, staring at Mitch as if he’d suddenly turned into a monster. The instructor dropped his lesson manual with a loud thump!
“What?” everyone asked at once.
“There—there’s something crawling inside his jacket! Quick—get it out! Be careful of the baby.” The woman pointed to EmJay, who was sitting on Mitch’s lap.
A dull green creature was crawling across Mitch’s white shirt—apparently on its way to a warm spot on his shoulder. He didn’t seem concerned, though his face flushed slightly.
One of the men glared at Mitch. Cory thought they’d introduced him as a counselor of some sort, and she’d wondered if he was there to make sure they behaved. “I asked you to leave them home,” he sa
id in a pained voice.
“It’s not the gerbils,” Mitch explained. “It’s my lizard.”
“Your lizard?” squeaked the woman.
“She won’t hurt anyone. She’s been sick, you see, but she’s better now and anxious to get out after being cooped up so much. Usually she just dozes. Something must have woken her up. Honestly, I won’t let her get loose.”
The woman made a face but didn’t speak further. She moved to another chair, leaving a space between her and Mitch. The counselor heaved a sigh, and the missionaries rolled their eyes.
Cory did her best to hold in the laughter, but it was just too tempting. “Can I see her?” she asked between giggles.
Mitch reached inside his jacket and pulled out the creature. Everyone leaned in to take a peek, fascinated despite their disapproval. EmJay’s little hand stroked the five-inch lizard’s back as though she’d done it many times before. Cory followed her lead. “What’s her name?” After Elvis, Dizzy, and Hiccup, she couldn’t wait for this.
“Lizzy Lizard,” he said with a grimace. “Not very original, but I was tired when I found her in the desert.”
“You found her?”
“Yeah, by the side of the road in southern Utah. She was hurt, and I took her home to help her heal.”
“Mitch is always finding things to heal,” said the woman next to him. “If he spent half as much time trying to find a wife, he wouldn’t be one of the oldest men in our ward.”
Cory studied her for a moment. She was pretty and well-spoken, but Cory sensed a frustrated undercurrent.
“Janie doesn’t like my animals,” Mitch explained.
“I just don’t think they have any place on a date,” Janie retorted.
Oh, so that’s the way it is. Janie liked Mitch but wanted to change him. Cory felt sorry for Mitch. “I think Lizzy’s adorable,” she said. “I’m glad you brought her.” It certainly livened the class up a bit—not that it needed livening with all her questions.
As they left the classroom a short time later, Mitch informed her there was one more meeting to go. Cory balked. “I think I’ve had enough for one day.”
Huntington Family Series Page 40
