One Golden Summer(74)

“Actually,” I amend, “I think they might be great.”

Heather blinks at me for a moment, and then she claps her hands. “Tell us everything.”

I explain to Heather and Bennett how I feel like my job has become almost entirely about getting someone else’s version of the ideal shot. I tell them I’ve been so focused on pleasing clients and photo editors that I forgot how to please myself along the way.

Heather gives me a look, and I know exactly what she’s thinking. I’m thinking the same thing. An entire conversation passes between us without speaking. The way I’ve approached work is just like how I’ve approached relationships.

“But something’s changed since I’ve been here,” I say. The photos I’ve taken at the lake are so much looser. There’s skill in what I can achieve with a set, a lighting assistant, hair and makeup. But there’s an unscripted kind of magic in shooting from my heart. I follow my instincts, not a meticulously planned brief. And, sure, some of the shots aren’t any good, and they’re far from flawless, but even the mediocre images are rich with emotion. Photos of Nan. The water. Charlie’s yellow boat flying across the bay. Memories of this second golden summer.

It feels like I’ve come full circle.

“Wow,” Bennett says when I finish speaking.

Heather lets out a whoop and gets to her knees, shimmying on the Pegasus-unicorn and clapping her hands over her head. “I haven’t heard you talk so passionately about your work in ages,” she says.

“I wouldn’t have thought she’d be able to do that on there,” I say to Bennett.

“Nothing keeps Mom from her victory dance.”

I laugh, but then I see a familiar figure across the bay, and heat washes over my body. My heart begins to trip over itself. He waves, and I wave back.

Heather follows my line of sight. “Is that him?”

“Is that who?” Bennett asks.

“Auntie Ali’s new boyfriend.”

My head snaps in her direction, cheeks flushing. “He is not my boyfriend.”

My sister and niece share a wide-eyed look, and they both begin to giggle.

Heather cups her hands to her mouth and yells, “Come meet the family, Charlie,” then waves her arms over her head.

“Are you as much trouble as Alice?” he calls out.

Heather casts me a look that lets me know she’s going to be asking what that means later.

“So much worse,” she yells back.

I imagine Charlie laughing to himself as he steps into the boat.

“Do not embarrass me, Heather.”

She puts her hand to her chest. “Me? I would never. And especially not in front of your…” She glances at Bennett, and they both sing out, “Boooooyfriend.”

“He’s just a friend.”

“Sure, sure.”

I look at Bennett. “He’s just a friend.”

“Then why are you so red, Auntie Ali?”

Heather begins to snicker, and the yellow boat’s motor rumbles to life.

“Yeah, Ali,” Heather mimics. “Why are you so red? Is it because your boooooyfriend is coming?”

Bennett laughs.

“Stop,” I say, though I’ve started laughing, too. I can’t remember the last time my sister and I were goofy together.

When Charlie’s boat approaches and Heather begins to sing, “Alice and Charlie sitting in a tree,” I lean over the side of the moose, putting my hand in the water to splash her, but I lose my balance and tumble into the lake.

The first thing I see when I poke my head out of the water is Charlie, standing in the boat a few meters from us. He’s in a teal bathing suit and a white shirt, and something in me eases, knowing that he hasn’t returned from the city any different.

“Good to see you, Trouble.”

I stare up at him, my lips curving into a grin that matches his own.

“Hi,” I say.

“Hi,” he says back, his eyes softening with his voice.

Behind me, Heather clears her throat.

“Charlie,” I say. “This is my sister Heather and her daughter, Bennett.”

“Good to meet you in person,” he says to Heather. “And nice to meet you, Bennett.”

Bennett looks at him from beneath her eyelashes while Heather mouths, Oh my god, to me.

“I’m taking the boat out,” Charlie says to my niece. “Would you like to come?”

She nods, tongue-tied.

“Heather?”

She grins between Charlie and me. “You couldn’t keep me away.”

“Think we can convince Nan to join us?”

My niece shakes her head.

“She was too tired to do the stairs today,” Heather says.

“I can help with that.” Charlie calls to where my grandmother sits on the deck, “It’s time to get you out on the lake, Nan.”

Even if I didn’t photograph it, the image of Charlie carrying my grandmother down the thirty-two wooden steps to the dock will be permanently etched onto my brain.

Nan sits beside Charlie in the passenger seat, and Heather, Bennett, and I sit up front. Tears stream down Nan’s cheeks as we sail across the water, and I’m not sure if it’s from the wind or whether she’s caught up in the moment.