18. Marley
EIGHTEEN
MARLEY
Rolling over to find I’m alone in bed brings with it a sense of disappointment I wasn’t expecting. I lay there for a while listening to the soft murmur of voices coming from somewhere in the house. Laughter erupts, and I hear a shushing sound followed by quieter laughter. It’s a big house, but it’s old and sound definitely carries.
I’m still wearing the clothes from yesterday, and it’s not until I’ve got myself balanced on my uninjured foot that I notice my clothes folded at the end of the bed. And crutches as well? I’m torn about them. I guess this means no more piggyback rides? Time to get back to reality.
I get dressed, use the washroom with the help of the crutches, and then start to make my way towards the stairs. Before I can take the first step, though, Bennett is taking two at a time on his way up to me. The smile he gives me has my face burning.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you until you were already in the hall.” He turns and bends a bit so I can climb on, then reaches to the side and takes each crutch. I think he’s going to stop at the bottom, but he continues to the kitchen where I discover the source of the laughter. The Hores are both leaning against the island, smiling at us. Nancy looks between Bennett and me like a plan she concocted is coming together.
“What are you doing, Bennett? The woman’s got crutches now. Give her her independence,” Karl says as Nancy elbows him hard in the gut.
“You look well rested, Marley,” she says, beaming.
“I feel well rested.” I hope I don’t look as uncomfortable as I feel right now. I can sense Bennett’s eyes on me, and I do my best to keep my eyes on the Hores. “I assume I have you to thank for the crutches?”
“It took a while to dig them out, but I knew we still had them.” Nancy gives her husband a look.
“Well, I really appreciate you doing that and bringing them over.” Bennett slides a mug of coffee over to me as I slip onto a stool.
He’s busy making coffee for everyone else so I have a minute to just stare at his back like a total weirdo. When I look away, I realize I have an audience. “I was just checking to see if there was a Marley-shaped indent on Bennett’s back,” I laugh, trying to brush off being caught staring.
Nancy leans forward to look around Karl at Bennett. “Not that I can see, but you’ve definitely left an impression.” She winks at me, honest-to-god winks , and I kind of want to evaporate. “Oh!” she suddenly shouts, making me jump. “Bennett told us you’re a photographer.”
I nod. “I am.” I have no idea if Bennett told them exactly what kind of photographer I am, and after last night, I don’t want to dive into it again.
“This feels meant to be.” She clasps her hands, looking like she’s plotting something evil. “We are showing two of our girls at a big farm fair, and we need new pictures for both of them. ”
“Show two of your girls at a farm fair?” I ask slowly, very confused. Bennett only mentioned them having one daughter, and I’m a bit horrified that they actually have two and they are “showing” them at a farm fair. I know country people do things a bit differently, but I always expected something more along the lines of taking their time or not being big fans of road rage. What exactly does this entail? Is it like some kind of Miss Universe thing? Do they wear coveralls and straw hats? Are talents…farm-y?
“They are both competing in the heifer category,” Karl says matter-of-factly, as if any of those words put together make a lick of sense to me.
I must look as troubled as I feel because when I glance over at Bennett he’s mouthing something. I blink slowly at him, trying to focus. “COWS.”
“Oh, right, heifers. Beautiful animals.” I have no idea if I’ve saved myself from the kind of humiliation that follows a person around at every gathering. “Oh my god, this one time we were talking about cows, and city girl Marley here thought we were talking about the Hore girls.” But a girl can hope.
“They really are and so sweet. Anyway since you’re a photographer, maybe you could come by and take some pictures. We’ve got a cute little—” Nancy mimes what I think is a point-and-shoot camera. “What is it, Karl?” He shrugs in response while I resist the urge to give into a full-body shudder. “Regardless, you can use that, and we’d pay you of course.”
“No, I couldn’t accept money. Maybe some help holding something, or getting the, um, cow’s attention, but consider it a thank-you for giving me some of my freedom back. Oh, and I have a camera with me, so no worries.” I’ve taken lots of pictures of cows, but usually they’re part of the bigger picture, herders in some middle-of-nowhere place for a story on nomads or people in a busy city living peacefully with bovines wandering the streets. But I’ve never taken glamour shots of cows.
“How about Bennett bringing you by later today? Sophie can help me get them all cleaned up, and we’ll find the perfect spot before you get there.” Nancy sounds like I’ve made her entire year, and I can’t help but feel good about agreeing to do this.
“Yeah, I can do that,” Bennett says. “It’ll be fun,” he says with wide eyes and a smirk.
Nancy and Karl stick around long enough to finish their coffee and give me the recipe for the raspberry muffins Nancy baked at four a.m. I’ll be passing it along to Izzy or Nellie because unless I’m possessed by some kind of baking demon, I won’t be putting it to good use. She also double-checks that I’m okay with photographing “the girls” about five more times. After they leave, I wait until I see them on the path before throwing my head back and letting out a frustrated sigh.
Bennett sits on the stool beside me. “You know, you didn’t have to say yes if you didn’t want to do it.”
I look over at him. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just like…” I take a deep breath. “When I was first getting started. I was constantly traveling to these incredible places. I mean, a lot of them were also kind of horrible, but when I’d get home people would act like every kind of photographer was the same. And I’m not saying that any one kind is better, but we are not the same. I, for instance, would not have the patience for wedding photography or those stiff family pictures. I capture moments, lots of movement.” I realize I’m rambling. “Anyway, it was a lot of ‘Oh, don’t worry Marley will just bring her camera,’ like when I got home from three weeks of sneaking from one bombed-out building to the next what I really wanted to do was take pictures at Tiffany’s fu cking baby shower.” Bennett is staring at me. “But,” I quickly say, “maybe cows will be a nice change,” I give him a big fake smile to really sell it.
I don’t think Bennett believes me, but I never claimed to be a good salesperson. I do convince him to go get the dogs ready for a walk while I wash the dishes though so I’m not completely hopeless. When I open the cupboard to put the mugs away, I notice several bottles of prescription meds. The “Meds” notification now makes sense. I slip the mugs next to the others and close the door. As curious as I am, it’s none of my business, and I’m not about to betray the trust of a man who’s been so accommodating. Still, I desperately want to know what they’re all for because supplements definitely don’t come in orange bottles like that.