Chapter 02 SHANA
“Mom, Dad, I’m home,“
I shouted, struggling to get through the door with my luggage and my equipment bags.
My dad walked in, beaming. He was in his usual attire, a ratty, untied robe and tighty-whities. He was a menace, but I loved him nonetheless. I shook in silent laughter, trying to figure out how this was my life.
Disregarding the eight hundred bags I was carrying, Dad pulled me into a bear hug. I ignored the discomfort of the bag digging into my stomach and soaked in the comfort of one of my dad’s hugs. I missed his crazy ass.
“Babygirl. It’s so good to have you home finally. How was your trip?“
he asked, pulling back to check me over. Even though I was almost forty, my father still treated me as if I were fragile.
“Hi, Dad. The trip was seriously so good. I’m not sure anything will ever top this one. The photos better win me a fucking Pulitzer,“
I said cheekily.
“You’re going to have to show Mom and me when you’re settled in. Where were you this time? I’m getting too old to keep track anymore,” he said.
I laughed. “I get it. I’m getting too old to remember, too. I was at Mount Elbrus this time.”
His glare was cutting as his geography PhD worked overtime. “You’re going to end up getting yourself killed or jailed one of these days, kid.”
“I was careful. Promise,“
I said, raising my hands. I’d keep it to myself that I was nearly caught this time.
It was a little weird that I was still crashing at my parents’, but we’d all agreed that I traveled too much to have a place of my own. I was in a hotel around fifty weeks out of the year. I never thought I’d say it, but I was ready for some stability. I didn’t think I could continue traveling this heavily much longer.
“If it helps any, I took a job at the community college, so I’ll be in town longer than I usually am,” I said.
My mom walked in the room, tears in her eyes, pulling me into a hug. “My girl, did I just hear you right?”
I hugged her tightly, kissing the top of her head. “Yes, Ma. I’m home for at least a few months this time around.”
“What will you be teaching?“
she asked.
A thunk behind me let me know dad had dropped my bags. I confirmed it wasn’t my camera bag before turning back to my mom. “I’m teaching landscape photography. It’s for continuing education, but you know if it wasn’t for those classes when I was younger, I’d have never gone as far as I have.”
Mom smiled, pulling back from me as she did a once over much as Dad had done. “Well, sweetie. I’m glad you’re home. Get settled in. Let’s go out to celebrate later?”
“Sounds good. Thank you both as always for letting me stay here.”
“You know we love having you home. Dad’s retiring soon, and it would be great to have you home for that, too,“
Mom said, closing the door quietly behind her as they left my childhood bedroom.
Groaning quietly once I’d finished unpacking, I stretched my limbs out on a comfortable mattress for the first time in what seemed like forever. I’d been staying in hostels for so long, I forgot that soft mattresses existed. My mind was elsewhere, already back in the mountains of Russia. Of capturing the images of the first trans expedition hiking up the tallest peak in Europe. I threw my earbuds in to listen to the latest podcast about a new fashion house out of Canada, curious about what this spring’s catalogue was going to look like. I needed to get my mind off work for a while.
I went down a rabbit hole after the podcast ended, moving from a music video to some weird DIY video about remodeling a house. My parents could use a home makeover, and I had the money since I hardly had living expenses.
My phone started ringing in the middle of the video I had pulled up, and I rolled my eyes. Scrunching my nose at the area code I didn’t know, I answered hesitantly, if only to get back to my podcast a little quicker. I had applied to work at another school out west, or else I would have probably let it go to voicemail.
“Hello?”
“Hey, is this Shana?“
asked a feminine voice, vaguely familiar.
“This is she. May I ask who this is?“
I replied, silently begging that this wasn’t a spam call.
“Oh, thank god. Shana, this is Sadie Clarke. I’m not sure if you remember me, but I got your number from one of our mutuals,“
she said in a rush.
I sat up, scooting back to rest against the headboard. “Sadie, the photographer? We met several years ago in Nova Scotia at that photography retreat, right?”
“That’s me.“
She sounded relieved. “A little birdy told me you’re home. Is that right?”
“I just got in. Why?“
I asked slowly, trying to figure out how Sadie was aware of this. I didn’t know who our mutual friend was.
“So, I’m going to be there for one of my stranger sessions tomorrow. Unfortunately, one of the participants had a medical emergency and is in the hospital. I’m supposed to be in and out before this storm really hits. Is there any chance you could fill in?”
I crossed my legs, bending forward to rest my forehead against the mattress. I loved photography, but I did not enjoy being in front of a camera. “I don’t know, Sadie. I take photos, not the other way around.”
“What if I told you that it’s a themed shoot?“
she quickly asked. I could hear the desperation in her voice.
I hesitated. “What sort of themed shoot?”
“It’s a medieval tarot-themed shoot. I somehow scored a really great deal on props from the costume department at one of the colleges from St. Louis.“
She was so excited—or anxious—that her voice shook.
I lifted my head, groaning. “Sadie…”
She sighed, and someone whispered something to her I couldn’t make out. “Okay, I was warned I would probably have to bring out the big guns. I don’t know what this means, but I—”
“Who is the little bird that told you I was in town?“
I interrupted.
“That doesn’t mat—"
“Who, Sadie?“
I said through gritted teeth.
She laughed, loud and jubilant, “It’s your mom.”
I barked out a sound I didn’t think I’d ever made before—a cross between a laugh and a scream. “I know she went with me to that clinic, but I didn’t know she had your number.”
“Yes, we kept in touch. She’s probably my biggest supporter,“
Sadie said with a softness to her voice.
I grinned. “Yeah, she’s pretty great, right?”
“She is. She told me to tell you two things. Lady. Knight,“
she drawled out, “and it’s at your favorite house on top of the bluffs.”
I smirked, amused that she knew me so well. “Fine. What time, and what do I need to wear?” I asked.
She held the phone away from her ear and squealed. “Show up around 3:30. Your mom already has a costume picked out.”