Читать книгу The Baby Album - Roz Fox Denny - Страница 9

CASEY MISSED WYATT’S CALL the next morning. She’d gone to the store to replenish her supply of crackers, and he phoned her home number, not her cell. In his message, he sounded okay about her doing Brenda Moore’s photos. “Offer her a fifteen percent courtesy discount. I like to do that for friends,” he’d said.

It was a kind gesture. Casey hadn’t made any friends since she’d been in Texas. Most of the brewpub’s customers were guys—not that she’d had time for friendship anyway. Two of Dane’s buddies lived in the area and the three of them socialized while she ran the pub. Now she saw how isolated she’d become. It’d be great if she and Brenda Moore hit if off.

She’d worked until 2:00 a.m. finishing the cards for the reopening of Keene Studio. They looked great—bold black lettering on the gilt-edged cards Wyatt had found.

She went to bed confident the notices would go a long way toward rejuvenating Wyatt’s business. Unfortunately, sleep evaded her. She tossed and turned and finally got up at five, only to be hit by the worst nausea yet. Crackers didn’t help, nor did the ginger ale recommended by the nurse who answered the clinic hotline. When nothing eased her anguish, she cursed her ex-husband. Technically not quite ex. Her court-appointed lawyer said she had to give Dane time to contest the divorce. As if he would. The hard truth was that Dane had never wanted a wife.

Casey still felt ill when it came time to leave for Brenda’s. Her stomach protested as she climbed into her car. And why not? All she’d been able to keep down were a few crackers. She tucked a packet of them in her camera bag. If she didn’t need them, maybe they’d work to bribe the Moore triplets to sit still and smile.

The nurse on the hotline today had reiterated that morning sickness usually went away by the end of the third month. “Please, Lord, let it be sooner, like today,” Casey mumbled as she followed Brenda’s directions.

She found the street easily, but a closed gate blocked her path. Brenda hadn’t mentioned that she lived in a gated community. Rolling down her window, Casey managed a smile for the guard who stepped out of the security booth. “I’m here to see Brenda Moore.”

“Right,” the man said as he handed Casey a clipboard to sign. “If you’re from Keene Studio, Mrs. Moore is expecting you.”

Struck by a fresh wave of nausea, all Casey could do was nod. She was grateful the man took a minute to point out the shortest route so she could recover her composure. Her queasiness had subsided by the time Casey pulled up to a white, two-story home shaded by mature trees and surrounded by a manicured lawn. She parked to one side of a driveway that led to a three-car garage. The Moores might be best buds with Wyatt, but Casey let go of any notion that she and Brenda might become friends. It was obvious they traveled in different spheres.

She grabbed her camera bag and a few props and hurried up the steps to ring the doorbell. Prepared to wait, Casey jumped when the door was quickly thrown open by a harried-looking, slender brunette who held a shy-eyed boy on one hip. The woman grasped the shirt collar of a second tousled child. A third, identical to the other two, clung to her thigh, his big blue eyes glossy with tears.

“Casey Sinclair from Wyatt’s studio, I presume?” the woman said. “Please forgive us for being a mess. Believe it or not, we were picture perfect ten minutes ago. Then Elliot dumped two of my newly potted African violets on the living room carpet. Hadley, our old pug, kicked dirt all over the place. The boys had to be bathed again. Plus the dog.” Stepping back, Brenda ran a hand through her hair. “I must look a sight by now.”

“You look fine.” Casey stepped into a high-ceilinged entryway and shifted her equipment to shut the door behind her. She smiled at the boy with the most tears. He peeked at her, then quickly withdrew behind his mother.

“That’s Elliot, today’s troublemaker. Usually he’s the quietest,” Brenda said, rolling her eyes. “It’s probably a good thing I suggested you and I start with coffee. The boys weren’t pleased with a second bath, and this way they’ll have a few minutes to play and recover from their crying fits. Then they should be in a better mood for picture taking.”

“Wow, I hope I don’t have three at once. I couldn’t manage,” Casey blurted.

Brenda arched an eyebrow. “It’s a trial at times. Anyway, welcome to an average day at the Moore household zoo.” Easing down the boy she held, Brenda introduced him as Emmett. “And this is Eric. Boys, this is Ms. Sinclair. She’s going to take our picture for Daddy. But she and I are having coffee first, so you three can play for a bit.” She prompted the boys to wave to their guest before shooing them into a room filled with toys.

With the triplets occupied, she led Casey to an alcove where a small wrought-iron table was already set for coffee. A tray of sweet rolls sat in the center. “Take a seat and help yourself to a Danish,” Brenda said, pouring a cup of aromatic black coffee and holding it out to Casey.

The strong scent hit Casey like a brick. And the sight of the gooey rolls made her stomach curdle. Clapping a hand over her mouth, she jumped up. “Excuse me,” she said, doing her best to stifle a gag. “Please—I need a bathroom.”

With concern on her face, Brenda rushed her to a small, well-appointed bath off the entry. She stepped out and pulled the door shut to give Casey privacy.

Never more embarrassed, Casey lost what little was in her stomach. The ordeal lasted only a couple of minutes. After splashing her face with water and patting it dry, she peered sheepishly out the door. “I’m so sorry. You must think I have some nerve coming to your house ill. I promise, I’m fine. Nerves, probably. The coffee was…overpowering. I’ll pass on that, I think. But you go ahead. I…have a snack in my camera bag.” She knelt and retrieved her crackers.

Brenda’s eyes shone with sympathy. “How many months pregnant are you?”

“Oh, no…” Casey lowered her hands and quickly realized she was rubbing her stomach.

“Let me fix you a cup of ginger tea. Ginger works wonders to combat morning sickness.” Brenda escorted Casey back to the breakfast nook, where she whisked away the rolls and removed the coffee carafe.

“I—I…” Casey struggled for something to say while watching the wife of her new boss’s best friend fill a teakettle. Her pregnancy was so new, she’d assumed she’d have at least a couple of months on the job before anyone—like her boss—needed to know. “No, it’s just anxiety, really.” She tried again. “This is my first assignment.”

“When I introduced the boys I heard you say you hoped you wouldn’t have three at once. Besides, I was an ob-gyn nurse for eight years before I quit to have my kids. I’ve developed a sixth sense for spotting early signs.”

Casey sighed. “I, uh, haven’t told Wyatt I’m pregnant. I know I should have at the interview, but I was afraid he wouldn’t hire me. You’ve no idea how much I need this job.” She pursed her lips. “My husband…oh, this is more difficult than I’d imagined.”

The kettle whistled, and soon the spicy scent of ginger filled the room. Frowning slightly, Brenda set steaming mugs on two place mats. Sitting, she motioned for Casey to take the chair opposite. “Is he unemployed? Your husband?” She gently squeezed Casey’s hand.

Casey could have resisted anything but genuine sympathy. Her shoulders slumped. “Our divorce is pending. It’ll be final in a couple of weeks. I didn’t mention that in my interview, either.” She angled her chin defiantly. “I wasn’t trying to be sneaky. I didn’t think that part was relevant. It’s just…been a horrid few weeks.”

“I’m sure. Do you want to talk about it?”

Casey hesitated, but Brenda coaxed her story out. In some ways, it was a relief to finally confide in someone.

“I can’t believe he walked out the same day you announced your pregnancy. What a creep. No wonder you’ve developed morning sickness.”

“I’ll understand if you tell Wyatt about this. After all, you three are friends. It’ll be obvious, anyway…before long. I suppose it was foolish to hide the truth until I could prove myself and put enough money aside to have my baby. I think I’m being measured against some invisible standard Wyatt’s not sharing with me.”

“Angela,” Brenda said crisply, wrapping both hands around her mug. “She’s the invisible standard, I’m sure. You’re not the only one who’s held things back. Wyatt has, too.”

“Is Angela the one who took the gorgeous pictures in the waiting room? I don’t get it, though. At my interview he said I was his first employee.”

“Angela was Wyatt’s wife and business partner. She was never an employee. They got married right out of university.”

“Oh, wow!” This information seemed incredible to Casey.

Brenda held up a hand. “Wait. We need to talk, but let me check on the boys. They’re being too quiet.”

Casey sat contemplating this new information until she returned.

“Did she, uh, did Angela dump him?” Casey asked. Dane’s defection was still raw, so she could easily imagine how upset Wyatt would be if the same thing had happened to him. It would also explain why he hadn’t been able to face working for a year.

Brenda grimaced. “Yesterday, I spoke out of turn on the phone, and I felt guilty all night. Wyatt needs to tell you about Angela himself. But I truly doubt he will. And if I were you, I’d want the scoop.”

“I do, if it helps me understand him. That’s if he even speaks to me again after finding out that I didn’t tell him I’m going to have a baby in eight months.”

“It’s better that you didn’t. He probably wouldn’t have hired you.” Brenda took a deep breath. “Angela didn’t leave him. She died last year—and she was pregnant.”

“Oh, no! How awful.”

“It was very sad. They waited to start a family until Angela thought the studio was solvent. Losing her and the baby together was a double tragedy for Wyatt. All his friends are delighted to see he’s getting back to work.”

“How did she die?”

Brenda picked up her cup, then set it down. “I should’ve kept my mouth shut and let Wyatt tell you when he was ready. But if I don’t, someone else will think you know, and they’ll bring up Angela’s name.”

“If his old clients know the story, you’re probably right. If he has me stay, somebody’s bound to mention her, especially if she took their previous photographs.”

“Right. Okay, so Wyatt had always wanted a family. Angela…not so much. She was very focused on her career. She once thought she might be pregnant, but it turned out to be a false positive. A group of us women met regularly for lunch and in May last year she told us she wasn’t seeing a doctor again. She wanted to do a home test instead. Wyatt was bouncing-off-the-walls happy when that test was positive. He wanted her to cut back her work schedule immediately.”

Casey sipped her tea, unconsciously pressing a hand to her stomach. She didn’t know what was coming, but it obviously hadn’t ended well.

“Wyatt also wanted Angela to see a doctor right away. So did I. They’d still need to confirm the pregnancy and start her prenatal vitamins if nothing else, given how she skipped meals and worked really long hours. But it was almost June, peak wedding season. Angela sometimes had two weddings booked a day. And she could be stubborn. She claimed she felt fine, so she put off making an appointment.”

“What happened?” Casey pressed.

“Angela told Wyatt to get off her back, that she’d see the doctor in July. He stopped hounding her, but still offered to adjust his schedule to help her. Angela refused. She insisted they both keep to their respective schedules so they’d have more money to set up a nursery with designer furniture. She had a difficult childhood, so it was a big deal to her to be able to afford the best. And Wyatt would’ve given her the moon if she’d asked for it.”

“I’ve sensed that about him—that he’s generous.”

“He definitely is. And he took on more of the in-studio work. By mid-June Angela had lost weight, and was acting really crabby. Wyatt started insisting she see the doctor. To keep him from harping on it, she finally called, but couldn’t get in until the next day. About then, we women convinced her to take a couple of hours off and meet us for lunch. She finally relented. But she forgot she had a rural wedding booked. Because the wedding couple planned to arrive at their ceremony in a hay wagon, Angela asked Wyatt to take the job. Wyatt’s always been really good at photographing animals and she just wasn’t.”

“Did she have a car accident on the way to lunch?”

Casey was desperate to finally hear what had happened to her new boss’s wife—what had turned him from the caring man Brenda described to the scarred, grumpy one she’d encountered.

“No. Although that might have been more merciful. Wyatt left around ten to drive to Driftwood. Angela met us for lunch at noon, at her favorite restaurant. I should have picked her up, but I went ahead to deck the table out in pink and blue streamers. We’d decided to make it a surprise celebration. The lunch started out well, but before anyone’s food came, Angela complained of abdominal cramps. Gracie, another friend, grew concerned enough to phone the OB. The nurse said Angela needed to come in right away. We all wanted to drive her. She said it was probably gas and that we shouldn’t interrupt our lunch. Angela had trouble accepting help from anyone—even when she really needed it.” Brenda’s voice faded, and for a second, she was silent.

Casey reached over and gripped her hand, feeling tears gathering in her own eyes. “Don’t go on. It’s enough to know it ended terribly.”

“Yes. The OB was thirty minutes away. Fifteen minutes after she left us, Angela called 911 saying she was cramping so badly she couldn’t drive. Paramedics found her pulled over on the side of the road. It was already too late. She’d suffered an ectopic pregnancy and her fallopian tube had burst. She’d also miscalculated how far along she was. The E.R. doctor said she was nearer twelve weeks than the eight she thought.”

“I don’t know a lot about ectopic pregnancy. Is that always fatal?”

“No. A lot depends on the time, the fetus size. In Angela’s case, she hemorrhaged so severely the doctors couldn’t save her.”

“Poor Wyatt. I see why he closed the studio. He must’ve been dealing with an enormous amount of guilt.”

“He pulled back from friends and everything. We’ve all been so worried. He quit going to the studio and wouldn’t see any of us. Greg finally barged in to have him sign some checks, and found Wyatt in a remodeling frenzy. Greg’s secretary, Mary, had to phone all Wyatt’s clients and cancel the bookings. I know he felt guilty for being out of town, but there wasn’t anything he could’ve done…” Brenda’s voice trailed off.

“Even so, it makes me feel worse for not telling him about my pregnancy up front. It’s going to be a hundred times more difficult to tell him now.”

Brenda nodded. “But you know, Casey, you won’t start to show for another few months. In any other circumstances, I wouldn’t advise keeping something like this a secret, but Wyatt’s just opening up again. Would it hurt to keep quiet for a while? At least until you guys get the studio back on its feet.”

Casey shrugged. “I guess not. Though at my height, I may show sooner than other women.”

“True. I showed really early because I was carrying triplets. I took pains to buy clothes to disguise my baby bump. I still have them packed away. You’re welcome to them if you want them. Staying on with Wyatt would give you time to put some money aside—even if you decide to leave once he finds out about the baby.”

“That makes sense. And it’s kind of you to offer, but there’s no way your clothes would fit me. I might be able to alter them, but you may need your maternity clothes again.”

“Not a chance. Greg and I decided three kids are plenty. We’re not having more. Besides, I’m a fair hand with a sewing machine. I’m trying to think if any of my outfits couldn’t be altered. I’m sure they can all be made to fit you.”

“So…you think I shouldn’t tell Wyatt I’m pregnant even after I start to show? I don’t know, that seems deceitful.”

Brenda shrugged one shoulder. “You said you need the job, and I know Wyatt needs you. I’m not suggesting you never tell him—just wait until he’s had a chance to get comfortable working with you. It might not even take too long. You have a really nice, calm demeanor. The perfect fit for Wyatt.”

“I need to give this some serious thought, Brenda. And maybe you should withhold judgment on how perfect I am until after I photograph you and the boys.”

“Then let’s get this show on the road. Are you feeling better? Your stomach, I mean.”

“You know…I am. The ginger tea helped. I’ll have to buy some on my way home.”

“Take some of mine when you go. I’ve got lots.”

“That’s so kind.” Casey felt relieved after their talk. She understood Wyatt’s gruffness now. Plus, it was good to get a few things off her chest. Casey sensed a rapport developing with Brenda that she hadn’t expected. It would be lovely to have someone to confide in.”

“Let me go dress the boys in something suitable,” Brenda said. “If you help me keep them corralled, I’ll change my blouse and run a comb through my hair, and we’ll be set for pictures.”

“Why don’t I take a few candid shots of them playing? I need to check my meter against the lighting anyway, so that’ll give you a few minutes to yourself.”

“I could hug you. I’ll see if I have matching outfits that still fit them, other than the ones they and the dog got dirt all over.”

“It might go more smoothly if we include him in the pictures. I find that kids often act calmer around a favorite pet,” Casey said as they moved from the kitchen to the living room.

“What a great idea. Hadley was Greg’s dog before we got married. Greg would be touched to see him in the photos.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do. Oh, you have a brick fireplace. Great backdrop. I brought some silk squares to drape over your couch. I’ll hold off to see what goes with the outfits you pick out. I generally try a variety of backgrounds, but I lean toward natural, subtle textures. We can shoot several and see what suits you.”

“So far everything you’ve mentioned sounds great. I’ll probably want copies of every shot. Goodness knows what I’ll do with them all.”

“If the boys have grandparents, a nice photo of the kids alone would make a terrific gift.”

“Greg’s parents live in Florida, and they’re always begging for pictures. My mom doesn’t live so far off. Just a couple of hours away, in Kerrville, so she sees the boys pretty often. Still, I imagine she’d like a wallet photo to show her bridge group. Oh, and Greg’s mother’s birthday is the week after his. When will you have these ready for me to look at? I’ll need to drop by the studio without Greg knowing.”

“Wyatt’s probably going to do the finishing work. He said he would until the studio gets busier. I hope that’s soon. One of my favorite things about photography is helping clients select the best shots.”

“I’ll tell Wyatt I want you to help me.”

“No, don’t. He might think I instigated it.”

Brenda left then, and Casey bustled about checking the light. After the triplets and Brenda were ready, she put Hadley in the middle, petting him and made faces to make the boys giggle. “Perfect,” she murmured. “Brenda, you’re photogenic. I predict your husband and your family will absolutely love these pictures.”

“At this rate I’ll have to get a loan to pay for all the copies I’m going to want. I hope Wyatt knows what a gem he has in you, Casey. I wouldn’t have thought about including the dog in the photos. Details like that are what make you an invaluable partner.”

“Employee,” Casey hastened to say. “Don’t use the term partner around Wyatt, please. That would surely remind him of Angela, and I wouldn’t want him to think I was trying to take her place.”

Brenda started to comment, but was interrupted by Casey’s cell phone. “It’s Wyatt,” Casey hissed. “I wonder what he wants.”

“Take the call and see,” she said drily.

Casey felt her nervous jitters return. “H-Hello,” she stuttered.

His voice boomed out through the phone. “Is everything all right at the Moores’?”

“Fine. Why?”

“The note you left said you were meeting Brenda at ten. It’s two o’clock now. If you’re going to take this long on every appointment, I’ll have to adjust our schedule.”

He spoke so loudly that Brenda no doubt heard. She grabbed the phone from Casey. “Wyatt, it’s Brenda. One of your darling godsons dumped two pots of African violets all over the carpet. The boys and Hadley had a grand old time playing in the dirt just before Casey arrived. No, it wasn’t funny. It meant the lot of them needed hosing down and the living room needed vacuuming. So it’s our fault the appointment’s run late. Don’t be chewing out poor Casey. She handled the delay like a pro. We’re almost done. But remember, this is a surprise for Greg. I’m buying an eight-by-ten for his office, a bigger one for over our fireplace, and different poses for Greg’s folks and my mom—at Casey’s suggestion. You’re lucky to have found her, Wyatt. She’s a keeper.”

There was silence, then Casey heard him say, “Tell her to stop by the studio before she goes home.”

With a self-satisfied smile, Brenda clicked off and passed Casey the phone. “Under all his growl, Wyatt’s sweet. Remember that, if he snaps. But don’t let him walk all over you, either.”

“I won’t,” she said, dropping down to fit her equipment back in her camera case. “If I can get past feeling so sorry for him for his loss. And if I can quit feeling guilty over lying to him.”

“It’s not lying. The way I see it, you’re saving him from making the bigger mistake of letting you get away. You know what? Legally, he can’t let you go because of your pregnancy. And knowing Wyatt as I do, I honestly don’t think he’d do that even if it hurts him to think of Angela when he sees you pregnant.”

Casey hugged Brenda. “I’m so glad you were my first assignment. Guilt’s been eating me up. You have a gift for putting things into perspective.”

“You deserve a break, and Wyatt deserves a chance to get back on his feet,” Brenda said, walking her to the door. “If you need me to smack that jerk ex-husband of yours, I’d be happy to.”

“I should have listened to my girlfriends. They tried to warn me not to trust him.”

“Don’t make excuses for the bum. Guys like that aren’t entitled to any.”

“You’re good for my ego. Next time I feel down, do you mind if I call you?”

“Not at all. Hey, why don’t I dig out that box of maternity things tomorrow, and we’ll set a date to go over them when I come to see my proofs. Out of Wyatt’s earshot, of course.”

The triplets toddled up and Casey dropped a kiss on each curly head. “I hope I have just one baby, Brenda, and that he or she is as cute and as healthy as your boys.”

“Thanks. I forget sometimes how cute they are. Incidents like this morning notwithstanding.” She laughed and the women said a final goodbye.

THE JOY CASEY FELT at making her first potential friend carried over, allowing her to sweep into the studio with a new bounce to her step. She set one of four boxes of announcement postcards on the counter. “I finished these last night, but I didn’t want to mail them until you had a look,” she told Wyatt as he emerged from the back room.

“You got them all done? Weren’t there about a thousand clients on that list?”

“Twelve hundred or so.”

Wyatt pulled one card from the box. “These look fantastic,” he said. “You must have worked all night on them.”

“That’s the way I am. Once I start a project, I like to see it finished. I probably only worked until midnight. And very likely I would’ve been up anyway.”

“A night owl, huh? Boy, I can relate.”

Casey felt her throat go dry. She swallowed hard and glanced away. He had no idea she knew why he spent sleepless nights. It made her feel ten times guiltier for knowing.

Wyatt seemed to have reached his limit for idle chatter. He cleared his throat and returned the card to the box. “Get them in the mail. I have an appointment in half an hour with a professor from the agriculture program at the University of Texas. They’ve sold the beef the students raised, but apparently have two promising young bulls they’d like to advertise in a stock magazine. It’ll take a little while, so I won’t be back here today. Please lock up when you leave. Forward any calls to my home. I wrote down how to do that, and left the note on my desk.”

“If you’re not coming back to the studio, should I print the photos I took for Brenda Moore?”

“I’ll do them tomorrow. You probably haven’t used my type of digital darkroom software.”

“I’ll bet I can figure it out. I used quite a few different programs in Dallas. I started working for the Howells when I was in eighth grade. And Len liked the latest, greatest innovations, too. Dolly teased him that they were going broke buying new stuff.” Thinking about the Howells sent a ripple of nostalgia through Casey.

Wyatt eyed her speculatively. “You certainly stuck with one job a long time. What made you leave it and move to Round Rock?”

Casey was sorely tempted to spill her guts. But remembering Brenda’s advice, she said simply, “I got married.” As she expected, Wyatt backed off from remarking on anything personal.