The Girl I Used to Be by Heidi Hostetter (that summer book .txt) ๐
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- Author: Heidi Hostetter
Read book online ยซThe Girl I Used to Be by Heidi Hostetter (that summer book .txt) ๐ยป. Author - Heidi Hostetter
Jill had known hunger when she was a kid. It was frustrating not to be able to focus in school and humiliating to have to ask for food. Jill wanted better than what sheโd had for the children in that school. Sheโd figure out the money later; maybe lower the house price even more, or work two jobs instead of just one, to make up the difference.
โNonsense,โ Brenda said sharply, though her expression was soft. โWe can afford to pay you. In fact, we insist on it.โ
They spent the next several minutes discussing the logistics of getting Jillโs pictures to Ryan. Sheโd been given free rein to photograph anything in Dewberry Beach that looked interesting, so long as the images were natural. The work paid surprisingly well, better than anything Jill would have gotten from a temp job, and the best part was that sheโd be allowed to keep copies of her work for her portfolio.
For the rest of the meeting, Jill positively glowed, feeling her luck had finally changed.
With their business concluded, the meeting adjourned. Brenda rose to clear the table while Betty filled the sink. Kaye and Mrs. Ivey walked Jill out and paused at the front door.
โStarting tomorrow wonโt be a problem?โ Kaye asked. โI realize this is short notice, so weโll try to make it easier for you. Parking at the Yacht Club is limited, Iโm afraid, and the building itself can be difficult to find. Weโd be happy to pick you up if you tell us where youโre staying.โ
โOhโIโm staying with a friend.โ Jill waved a breezy hand through the air. โIโm sure she knows where it is.โ She hated lying to these women, especially after theyโd taken a chance on her, but she didnโt feel as if she had a choice. Theyโd made their feelings about The Monstrosity very clear and might not have offered her the job if they knew she owned it. And she really wanted the job.
โHow nice.โ Betty commented, out of interest. โIs your friend anyone we know?โ
Mrs. Ivey laid her hand gently on Bettyโs arm.
โAlright then,โ Kaye continued. โWeโll be there early. See you tomorrow.โ
โIโm looking forward to it.โ Jill shrugged on her jacket as Kaye returned to the kitchen and was surprised when Mrs. Ivey saw her out.
โA great many people are counting on you, Jillian.โ The older lady reached out to gently grasp Jillโs arm. โPlease donโt let us down.โ
Jill shook off Mrs. Iveyโs strange comment as she made her way back to the house, focusing instead on everything the women had said about her photographs, committing each compliment to memory. Brenda had remarked on Jillโs instinct for capturing texture and light. That was something sheโd been working on, so to have that encouragement from someone as accomplished as Brenda? Well, that was everything.
Marc had called her passion a hobby for so long that Jill had almost begun to believe it. But not anymore.
And although she still entered the house through the garage, so as not to be seen by the neighbors, she would not spend the night in her car again.
Those days were over.
Eighteen
The chirp of an incoming text woke Jill before her alarm did. Bleary-eyed, she pushed herself upright, squinting against the screenโs light as she skimmed the message.
Client I mentioned is interested. Wants to see the house as soon as possible. Hoping for this morning?
Now fully awake, Jill composed a quick reply and sent it off.
This morning is fine. Iโll be out all day.
Heart thumping, she stared at the three pulsing dots on the bottom of her screen, waiting for a reply. Could it really be this easy?
Great! Weโll be there around nine. Shouldnโt take long.
Excited, Jill pushed away the blankets and headed for the shower. It seemed that her luck had changed after all.
Before leaving the house, she gave it a quick once-over, plumping pillows and running the vacuum once more. Satisfied the house was show-ready, she stocked her camera bag and let the excitement of the day propel her forward.
She was ready with her camera when a gust of autumn breeze swirled a handful of crimson leaves across the sandy beach steps. And when the wind spun the leaves into a vortex, Jill slowed the shutter speed to blur the image. The result was a wash of fall color against a canvas of sandy beach. On the dunes, she found another scatter of wild roses and photographed the jagged green leaves, edged with lacy frost and dotted with frozen dewdrops. Then, her attention drawn to activity on the beach, she switched to a telephoto lens and captured the foamy churn of seawater as a black Lab frolicked in the surf. Further out, she saw a lone surfer on a faded green surfboard, waiting for the perfect wave.
As she made her way from the beach into town, she saw again that everything had been decorated for the festival and paused to look closer. Every shop had something out, even tourist shops closed for the season. A rusty wheelbarrow overflowing with lumpy gourds was parked outside the T-shirt shop, a tier of haybales stacked beside the ice cream stand. Even a web of fake cobwebs had been stretched across the doorway of the beach-pass office. She took several pictures for the festival website then continued into town.
Even from two blocks away, she could see a flurry of festival activity in front of the fire station. Work crews unloaded long tables from a flatbed truck, delivering them to the lawn, where another crew were busy erecting tents for the cook-off. Hurrying forward, Jill pulled out her camera and went to work. She found a group of bleary-eyed volunteers awaiting the morningโs instruction, and captured expressions of excitement and exhaustion. Moving to the green, she watched a man set up his grill for the cook-off, noting his expression as he scooped wood chip from the bowl of water.
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