Page 13 of The Charmed Friends of Trove Isle
Liz stepped in front of the bench memorial and lifted her camera to peer through the viewfinder. She’d taken this exact shot many times before, but it looked different today. Maybe it was the exact location of the sun in the sky, but the metal plaque seemed to shine. The shutter clicked beneath her finger as she pressed down.
Click, click, click.
She stepped back and forth to photograph from different angles, fascinated by how bright the silver plate looked through her lens this evening.
Click. Click. Click.
“Liz?”
Liz lowered her camera and spun around to face Missy Lyons, an old classmate of hers. Missy was a teacher at the elementary school these days and a mom of three. The kind of mom who was perfectly put together with matching everything including her nails.
“Oh, it is you,” Missy said with an energetic smile.
Liz gave a small nod. “Hi, Missy.”
“I thought I spotted your bike over there.” Missy gestured behind her. “Dave took the girls on a daddy-daughter date this evening so I have some rare free time. I’m just out for a walk,” she explained as if she needed an excuse to be out by herself on this beautiful evening.
Liz always felt a little awkward when she ran into classmates who were married with kids. Maybe she was imagining it, but it felt like her former classmates looked at her like she had three heads. Liz could practically hear their thoughts wondering why she lived alone and had no life to speak of. “I’m just out taking pictures.”
Missy looked around with an appreciative nod. “This place is perfect for that, isn’t it?” She faced Liz again. “Hey, do you photograph small events by chance? My parents are having a vow renewal ceremony and their photographer suddenly backed out.”
Liz’s heart leapt in her chest. “Oh?”
Missy grimaced. “I don’t know what price they had negotiated for. My parents can be quite the hagglers, I’m embarrassed to say.”
“Well, I’m not exactly a professional photographer.” Liz was several steps above an amateur though. She’d started taking pictures during a journalism class in high school. She’d fallen in love with the pastime and became self-taught on all the ins and outs of lighting and photography editing. The only reason she didn’t consider herself a pro was because she didn’t hire herself out.
“Don’t sell yourself short. I’ve seen your work hanging in The Bitery. It’s really good,” Missy said.
“Thank you. Where is the event?” Liz didn’t drive, and Rose wasn’t exactly reliable for giving Liz a lift. But maybe if the event was within bicycling distance . . .
“Highland Forest,” Missy said.
Liz’s heart sunk. That was half an hour’s drive away. And a cab ride would eat up any profits she might make on the job. But maybe it’d be worth it for the exposure. Then again, Liz would have to get someone to run the bakery in her absence. Those were all inconvenient pieces to an ill-fitting puzzle.
“How about I give your business card to my mom, and she can call you to see if it’ll work for you to be their photographer?” Missy asked.
“My card?” Liz repeated, feeling completely unprepared.
Missy’s smile faltered. “You don’t have business cards?”
Liz wondered why she’d never thought of getting some made. “I have cards for The Bitery. Hold on.” Liz dug into her bag and pulled out the business cards for The Bitery. She grabbed a pen and wrote her cell phone number and email address on the back. “You can contact me here.”
“Perfect.” Missy slid the card into the front pocket of her purse. “I’ll give it to my mom when I see her tomorrow. It’s all about connections, right?”
Liz nodded. Connections, transportation, time, and apparently, business cards.
“Well, it was good to see you,” Missy said, her warm smile returning to her lips. “We’ll be in touch.”
Liz waved and watched Missy continue on her walk. She felt equal parts invigorated and deflated after that interaction. Just like she had with her earlier conversation with Melody. It’d been brief, but Liz had replayed the moments in her head for the rest of the day. Melody had found the lost charm bracelet. That was a surprise. And she’d tried to pass it to Liz.
Liz felt so rude for turning that chance down. Melody couldn’t just waltz back into town like she’d never turned her back on them though, and try to pass their charm bracelet around like the silly teenaged girls they’d once been. They weren’t those same girls anymore. A lot had happened, creating a wedge between them that couldn’t be repaired in a thirty-minute time span.
Frustrated, Liz returned her attention to the plaque with Alyssa’s name on it. She lifted her camera and prepared to take one more photograph. The sun had sunk lower, and she didn’t like to ride her bike after dark. Plus, she couldn’t wait to get home to edit these photographs. Taking and developing pictures to hang at the bakery was the extent of her photography career. A photographer who couldn’t be available for gigs wasn’t much of a photographer at all. Just like a friend who wasn’t available for, oh, say, nine years, wasn’t much of a friend.
To: Liz Dawson
From: Bri Johnson
