Secrets in a Still Life by Kari Ganske (mobi ebook reader .txt) 📕

back to his parents' house. When Becky kicked him out, he lost her and Missy," Anne said.

"That's right." Mom laughed. "Nothing puts out a flame like moving back in with Mommy and Daddy. No offense, Peanut," she added for my benefit.

I rolled my eyes. "I managed to move out in less than a month," I reminded her. "What's taking Danny so long?"

"Lack of motivation. He likes having women take care of him," Victoria said. The ladies chuckled. Then the conversation moved to all the ways they cared for their husbands.

I tuned out to process the information I learned. If these ladies were correct, Becky didn't really have a motive to kill Missy. They were headed toward divorce well before she knew about the affair. And the affair ended months ago. I felt a little better about my compromise with Linc. It didn't matter what he asked her; my gut told me it wasn't her. That would be a dish of revenge served very cold.

Danny, on the other hand, had lots of motive. He'd risked and ultimately lost his marriage for Missy only to have her dump him the moment he found freedom. Now he was stuck at his parents' house and the butt of a lot of town gossip. It wasn't hard to imagine a man stewing in his childhood bedroom plotting revenge on the woman he loved and lost. The woman who'd cost him everything.

The more I thought about it, the more I liked the theory. I had to find a way to talk to Danny.

"Good luck with the calendar, Alex," Victoria's voice cut into my thoughts. I looked up to see the woman standing in front of me. "I can't wait to see what you come up with."

I stood to say farewell. Victoria took my shoulders and put an air kiss on both of my cheeks.

"So good to meet you, Ms. Munhouse," I said. "Thank you all for inviting me to the luncheon."

"The more the merrier. Tell Lincoln we said hi when you see him next," Anne said. She followed Victoria out the door, and the rest of the ladies followed soon after.

"You didn't tell me you were doing the calendar shoot," my mother admonished me as we drove back to the loft. "Your first Piney Ridge job. How nice!"

"Not exactly a job since it's part of my court-ordered community service."

"Pish-posh," Mom said. "Any publicity is good publicity. Once people see your work, they'll be banging on your door for photo shoots of their own."

"Great. Just the way I wanted my career to go." I pouted. "Taking pictures of babies and housewives."

Mom was quiet for a moment, then said, "I've had about enough of your little pity party, young lady."

"What?" I asked, surprised. Usually my mother pointed her ire outside her own family.

"You once told me that you loved capturing real moments with real people. Piney Ridge may not be as tragic as some of the villages you've been to, or as exciting as the big cities, but the people here are as real as anyone else. And they deserve to have their images captured for the next generation same as everyone else. Family portraits may not win you any awards, but they will undeniably be treasured by generations of the family you gift them to."

I stared at her. I never really thought my mother "got" my profession. Apparently, she did. And better than me lately.

Mom looked over at my astonished expression. "What? I'm right. And not only that, but family portraiture also pays the bills. That sign isn't going to fix itself. And you can't continue to barter photos for rent forever."

"I know. I'm still bitter about how the whole thing ended. I didn't do anything wrong, and yet I'm the one paying the price."

"Yup. It sucks. But are you going to continue to let Rick knock you down? Or are you going to put your Lightwood on and not give up?"

I sighed. That was the million-dollar question. Was it selling out if I went commercial? Was it just another form of defeat? I could look at it like a means to an end, I supposed. An "in the meantime" professional detour to help me put food on the table—after I got a table—and not a permanent career move.

"I guess you're right. I have to do something while I wait for the magazines to grovel on my doorstep begging for my return," I said. That was what I wanted. I wanted the photojournalist world to realize what they were missing without me and seek me out. I wanted them to see Rick for the lying, cheating idiot he was and blacklist him instead. I wanted my integrity and reputation to be restored immediately.

In the meantime, I might have to take pictures of babies.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 22

 

 

 

Nana K's Mercedes, parked in the orchard lot, twinkled at us under the bright afternoon sun.

"What is she doing here?" Mom asked. I shrugged.

"Maybe she brought me some more furniture?" I suggested. A table would be nice. Or a desk to put my laptop on. Or a comfy chair to curl up in with a good book. Those things would require a lot of squirming toddler pictures to purchase myself.

"Your father and I have bowling league in a bit. I hope you don't mind me dropping you off. If I go up there, it'll be an hour before she lets me leave," Mom said.

"No problem. I have no plans because my life is currently in the toilet," I said brightly. I reached across to give my mother a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for letting me tag along today. It was fun. You have really nice friends."

"Thank you, darling. Use dinner at our house as an excuse if Nana overstays her welcome."

I