She moved to her stomach and rested the weight of the camera equally on both elbows. She shot up at hermother, catching Annie Oakley in the background -"Daisy Lee," her mother said through a frown, "don't take a picture up my nose."
She sighed and sat up. It had been a while since she'd felt the urge to bring out her cameras and get back intosomething she used to love. She'd had to quit working for Ryan Kent, an artistic photographer in Seattle, inorder to take care of Steven.
She'd gotten into photography in high school, and when Nathan had turned four, she'd signed up for classes atthe University of Washington. After four years, she'd received her B.A. and began interning with topphotographers in the area. Her photographs hung in some studios and galleries around town. And a photographshe'd taken of a man standing on top of a crushed vehicle after the earthquake in Two-thousand and one, hadbeen featured in a local magazine.
She'd thought that once things settled, she'd go back to work for Ryan, but lately she'd been thinking of openingher own studio. One of the most successful photographers she'd ever worked for had once told her that the keyto success was finding a visible location and staying there for at least five years. Talent was important, butvisibility was most important when starting out.
The more she thought about it, the more she thought that's exactly what she'd do. Once she put the past behindher, she'd be free to start over completely. Maybe she'd sell her house. Upon Steven's death, the home owner'sinsurance had paid off the mortgage. Maybe she'd sell it, and she and Nathan could move into a loft inBelltown.
She shrugged and focused her lens on an orange-and-yellow rose. "I'm thinking of selling my house once I getback," she told her mother as she snapped the picture.
"Don't get ahead of yourself," her mother warned. "Colleen Forbus sold her house soon after her husband,Wyatt, took his journey to heaven, and she's been sorry ever since."
Maybe she could wait a few more months just to be sure. She'd find out how Nathan felt about it first, of course.
But lately she'd started to feel as if too much of her past was tied to that house. She didn't have to decide today.
It was something to think about. Something to put at the bottom of her mental to-do list.
She placed her elbow on her knees and adjusted the aperture to bring the roses and flamingos behindLouella's head into focus, giving the photograph a nice rich texture and depth of field. She snapped the photoand thought how nice it would be if everything in her life could be made clear by the turn of a focus ring.
Chapter Six
Jack was late. He'd waited until that morning to call Rhonda and ask what to get Lacy for her birthday. Rhondatold him she wanted something called a Kitty Magic. She told him to make sure it was a Kitty Magic and not aFur Real Friends. According to Rhonda the latter didn't nurse her babies. Then she wished him luck finding it.
He'd called around to the few stores in Lovett that carried toys, and ended up driving into Amarillo. He'd spentthe afternoon looking for the damned thing, and finally found it in one of the last stores he'd walked into.
He'd stood in the aisle, reading the back of the box, making sure he had the right one, and feeling the back of hisskull tighten. The pink Mommy Kitty had long fur and two fluffy kittens. The three of them had toys andmatching bows for their heads and god-awful heart-shaped sunglasses.
He'd kept reading and uttered, "For the love of Christ." According to the box the mother cat purred and said, "Ilove you" and made nursing sounds when one of the kittens was stuck to her side.
What the hell was a nursing sound? he'd wondered.
Jack had the present wrapped in bright pink paper with fairies on it. A big iridescent pink bow about the size ofhis head was taped on top. The bow was beyond frilly, but Billy's girls loved that kind of crap.
The kind of girl stuff that had been completely foreign to him and his brother growing up. They'd played withcars and BB guns and had set their army men on fire. They'd been hell on wheels, but as soon as Billy's first girlhad been born, Billy had taken to baby dolls, Barbie sneakers, and pink tutus like a duck to water. He made it alllook easy and natural while Jack was left watching and wondering where Billy's paternal instincts had comefrom. Jack didn't have any At least he didn't think he did. Although he was learning fast, he didn't know verymuch about little girls. Maybe because until Amy Lynn, he'd never been around little girls. Except Daisy, and ifshe'd played with dolls, and dressed up like a fairy princess as Billy's girls did, she'd done it with her friendsthat were girls. Not with him and Steven.
He pulled open the door to Showtime and stepped inside. He hadn't seen Daisy for four days. Hopefully she'dgiven up on her plan to pin him down and make him relive the past. Hopefully she'd left town.
The inside of Showtime was a collision of bright color and sound - of flashing arcade games directly at eyelevel, and those big plastic tubes that kids climbed through overhead. Of bells and sirens and screamingchildren. Jack had been here once before, on Amy Lynn's birthday, and he wondered how anyone worked herewithout going insane.
He moved to the dining room and discovered that it was relatively quiet-for now. He knew that would allchange once the show started. He found his brother and Rhonda and the girls sitting at a round table near thestage.
And Daisy.
About ten feet from the table, he stopped in his tracks. Daisy Monroe had managed to get herself invited to hisniece's party.
She'd tracked him down. She'd told him she'd become his worst nightmare. It hadn't been an idle threat. Hisanger rose but he pushed it back. Controlled it for now. She didn't belong here. With his family.
His gaze moved to the woman sitting next to Daisy. He recognized Lily, and he supposed the kid with themullet belonged to one of them. The boy had some sort of pudding on his face like someone had been feedinghim with a slingshot. He wondered if the kid belonged to Daisy and Steven.
"Uncle Jack!" five-year-old Amy Lynn yelled. She jumped up from her chair and ran toward him. The birthdaygirl, three-year-old Lacy ran toward him too. Lacy tended to watch her feet while she ran, and he picked her upwith his free arm to keep her from head-butting him in the nuts. "Hey there," he said. "Someone feels like she'sthree years old today."
"Me," she said and held up three fingers.
"I'm still five," Amy Lynn told him and wrapped her arms around his leg.
As he approached the table with Amy Lynn on his leg and Lacy in one arm, Billy glanced up from the dark-haired baby on his knee and smiled. "Hey, Jack, look who's in town."
Daisy looked at him, her brown eyes sparkling. She'd pulled her smooth hair back in a ponytail and her full lipswere a soft shiny pink. She wore a tight green tank top with the name Ralph Lauren in black across her breasts.
"You didn't tell Billy I was back in town," she scolded, as a smile curved that mouth of hers.
Jack stood Lacy in her chair. His brother didn't know his history with Daisy. Billy'd been too young and itwasn't something that Jack had ever wanted to talk about. Not even with his brother. Billy probablyremembered her, though. Growing up, she'd been over at theft house a lot. He probably thought they were stillfriends. Probably thought Jack'd be slaphappy to see her. "It must have escaped my mind," he said as Amy Lynnlet go of him and took her seat.
Daisy laughed, very amused with herself, and that bumped up his anger a notch. "You remember my sisterLily?" she asked.
"Of course. How are you?"
Lily came out from behind the table and gave him a big hug as he set the present on the table. "I've been better."
She looked a lot like Daisy, only with blue eyes. A lot like she had growing up, only for some reason she lookedterminally pissed off now.