Chapter Eighteen #2
By the time Kenzie brought their check, he was ready to get out of there.
They’d killed the vibe by turning the conversation from sitcoms to their families and businesses, and heading back to the campground would be a good reset.
Maybe he’d spend some time outdoors, splitting wood or trimming weeds or anything that required physical effort.
Then, as she put the truck in gear and pulled out of the parking lot, she said the words that reeled him right back in.
“I want to see your photography portfolio.”
“You just click through, like this...” Hannah smiled to herself, but leaned sideways so Rob could reach around her and show her how to click through the slideshow of photos as if she was new to computers.
They were in the store now, since he did actually have to open it, so she was in one of the chairs with his laptop on her lap.
She’d been amused when he went through and tweaked his notification and do not disturb settings before handing it to her, though.
She’d spent enough time around the family to suspect he was afraid embarrassing messages from his family would pop up.
Hannah looked at the first photo in the slideshow, which was an action shot of Stella in the air, her body twisting to catch a stick. In the background, slightly out of focus, was Brian, his hands on his hips as he watched his dog.
“It’s not a portfolio, exactly,” Rob said, and she realized he was still standing over her. “Like, not a professional one. It’s just some of my favorite photographs and the ones I think are the best.”
“So it’s a portfolio.” She smiled at him. “Don’t minimize your work, Rob. And stop hovering. Either pull up a chair and look at them with me, or go find something to do.”
Rob hesitated, running his palms over his hips, and she realized he was actually nervous about her looking at the photographs.
He cared what she thought of them, enough to doubt whether he wanted to be next to her while she clicked through them.
But she also knew if he went and tried to find busywork to do, he’d still be focused on her reaction.
Finally, he dragged the other chair over so he could sit next to her. It was a lot better than having him staring at her face, trying to judge whether she liked each picture or not, and she clicked through to the next shot.
It was a close-up shot of an older woman’s hand clutching an obviously well-loved wooden spoon, folding eggs into flour in a blue mixing bowl. The color adjustments were amazing, with the yellow yolks and the blue bowl popping against the glimpse of a battered butcher-block counter.
“That’s Gram,” he said simply.
He didn’t have to say more. She recognized the photo for what it was—a simple moment in time that captured the essence of his grandmother so simply that hopefully many, many years in the future, when she was gone, the photo would evoke such strong memories of her, he’d almost be able to feel her presence.
She clicked again and there was a photo of a wooden covered bridge. It was artfully framed and the next two—different angles of the same bridge—were the same.
“New England Photography 101,” he joked. “Covered bridges are mandatory. And loons.”
“There’s going to be a red barn and a moose in here, too, right?”
He chuckled. “Of course. Still chasing the elusive moose-standing-next-to-a-red-barn shot, though.”
With each photograph that passed, Hannah grew more impressed by his talent.
He not only had an eye for composition—which was vital, of course—but for capturing the feeling, and she was no photographer, but she assumed that was the hard part.
He had an obvious gift and she was glad expanding his potential was a priority for him.
It also seemed very like him to not have them sorted into categorized folders. Whether family members or cool trees or animals or artsy takes, they were all mixed together and she never knew what was going to come up next.
Then she got to the photograph she hadn’t even realized she’d been waiting for until it filled the screen. The foundation of the Elizabeth Whaley house, taken from the low vantage point with the gnarled trees in the background.
“Wow,” she said. “I watched you take this one, and it was definitely worth lying on the ground for. It came out amazing.”
“I’m pretty proud of that one, I have to admit.”
“Because of the angle, the trees and the stones really frame the void where the house should be.” She leaned closer to the screen.
“I mean, that might not be what you were going for and I might lean that way because Elizabeth disappearing is the reason I was out there in the first place, but it really captures the feeling of lost history.”
“Hold on to the laptop for a sec because I’m going to kiss you and I don’t want it to fall on the floor.”
She laughed, but then he did lean over and capture her mouth with his. Clutching the edges of the computer, she held on to it throughout the kiss, and maybe for a few seconds longer.
“Okay,” he said. “You can keep going now.”
There were several other photos of the foundation, and then she clicked through again and her hand froze over the touch pad.
It was a photo of her. This picture of the foundation was taken from a farther distance than the others, from the back, and she was the focal point.
She was standing inside the rectangle of stones, taking note of the pile of smaller stones that were almost buried by earth and moss in the center.
It was probably the fireplace and she’d imagined Elizabeth Whaley standing in that very spot, stirring a pot of stew or heating a pot of water to wash with.
And then the woman had simply vanished from history, without so much as a notation as to what happened to her.
Rob had captured that moment somehow. Hannah could see the awe and reverence she’d felt in that moment on her face, and yet her hands were balled into fists at her side by the frustration that across the years, women were so easily erased from history and forgotten.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Rob said softly, and Hannah realized she’d been staring at the photo for a while without saying anything.
She turned from the image to smile at him. “I love it. I really do. I was just... You captured everything I was feeling in that moment so well that I was sort of feeling it again.”
His eyes widened, and a flush of pleasure pinkened his cheeks. “Thanks. That’s... I’m glad you like it. I can send it to you.”
“Please do.” Hannah could hear Erika’s voice in her mind, urging her to go into her laptop files and find the paperwork Rob would have to sign to give her the rights to use the photo for commercial use.
It would be an amazing photo for social media, but also for any print work or for articles about the podcast.
But she didn’t want to. That moment and this photograph were intensely personal to her—almost raw, emotionally—and she didn’t want to expose that to the world to comment on for a temporary uptick in engagement.
The next picture was a red barn, and the laughter popped the bubble of intensity the previous photo of her had trapped her in.
Two more angles of the barn, and then there was a photo of his parents sitting on a couch, surrounded by the debris of a Christmas morning.
There were boxes and wrapping paper strewed around them, and they were both sprawled against the couch cushions as if utterly exhausted.
But there was something joyful about the way they looked at each other that made Hannah’s eyes well up with tears.
Mike and Lisa Kowalski clearly had the kind of love she could only hope to find someday.
“I was fourteen when I took that one,” Rob told her.
“Fourteen?” She blinked back the tears and turned to him. “You were really only fourteen?”
“My grandparents had bought me a really nice digital camera for my birthday. I still have it, actually. It meant so much to me because it wasn’t just a gift. It was...like an investment, I guess. They believed in me.”
“They were right to.” She clicked to the next picture and saw a teenage Brian holding up his middle finger to the camera.
“Yeah, the teen years were fun.”
She laughed. “But you can see that he’s amused and... I’m not sure how to explain it. There’s affection. Like maybe even if I didn’t know you were brothers, I’d guess it from the photo.”
There were so many photos in the slideshow, and she loved all of them. He had so much talent, and she hoped his plan to use the freedom of owning the campground to further his photography worked out.
“So that’s it,” he said when she reached the end and it circled back to the photo of Stella catching the stick in midair. “What did you think?”
“They’re amazing, Rob. Really. Obviously I love the pictures of your family because I can really feel your love for them and how well you know them.
” She tried not to think of the picture he’d taken of her during their work.
He knew her, too. “But I can feel it in your landscape pictures, too. How well you know the land and how much you love it really shines through.”
She could see the pleasure at her words in his eyes, but he just dipped his hand and lifted a shoulder as though embarrassed by the praise. “It’s home, you know? It’s almost as much a part of who I am as my family is.”
Hannah felt a tightening in the pit of her stomach, and she had to clear her throat to speak past the lump of emotion. Rob really, truly belonged here. “You should find markets for these. Not all of them, obviously. Some are clearly personal, but you could sell any of them.”
He nodded. “I was thinking this winter, when I’m not working on the house, I’d really go through them and make an actual professional portfolio of the ones with commercial potential.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to offer to help, but obviously she’d be back in California and she wasn’t sure how—or even if—communication between them would work.
Rob looked at the clock on the wall—one that had actual numbers and hands and was possibly as old as them—and swore under his breath. “Brian will be back anytime now.”
“Seriously? How long have we been sitting here?”
He laughed. “It’s always like that with you.
Time just flies by when we’re together. He didn’t give me an ETA, but I know he planned to be back by supper because he said he’d pick up grinders at a place we like that’s close enough to want them, but too far away to actually grab them on a whim.
Damn, do you want me to call him and have him get you something? ”
Her initial urge was to say yes, but the word didn’t come out. She loved spending time with Rob, and she liked his brothers, but there was something so...serious relationship-y, for want of a better word, about hanging out in the house and eating with them.
“I can’t. I have chicken thawed I need to throw on the grill or I’ll end up throwing it away,” she said casually. “And I should go now so you can at least cross a couple of things off of whatever list you were supposed to be doing today.”
His disappointed sigh echoed her feelings, but he walked her to the door. “I wish he wasn’t coming back for a few more days. Or weeks.”
Hannah smiled, nodding. She felt the same way, although a tiny voice in her head was reminding her about six weeks were all she had left here. “Me, too. But you know where to find me.”
Rob hauled her up against his body and kissed her until she was breathless and could barely remember her own name, never mind why she had to leave his arms right now.
Then he released her and gave her one of those grins that was as potent as his kisses. “I absolutely know where to find you.”
She left in a hurry, before she could wrap her arms around him and demand more. Brian coming home to find them naked on the floor of the store would be a funny story in ten or fifteen years, but awkward as hell in the moment.
It’s always like that with you. Time just flies by when we’re together.
As she walked, his words echoed through her mind. He’d been right. It was always like that when she was with him—it was so easy and right and time just flew by.
What had she done to herself?
As if there wasn’t enough indecision about her future clouding her mind, she’d taken things with Rob to a whole new level. And it wasn’t just the sex. That had been incredible and she’d very much like to do it again.
But him sharing his photographs with her felt even more intimate than being naked in his bed. It was as though he’d bared his soul to her and, though she knew that was what good photography felt like, it just deepened her awareness that this was a man she could love with her whole heart.
Love.
Hannah stopped walking, standing in the middle of the dirt road as the word really sank in, and it was like a heat sweeping over her skin that also chilled her to the bone. She was falling in love with Rob Kowalski.
Dammit.
That wasn’t supposed to happen. Sure, she enjoyed his company. They laughed together and talked about anything and everything. They loved books and didn’t love granola bars. His kisses made her toes curl and the sex was amazing.
But she wasn’t supposed to fall in love with him. She was supposed to come to this campground and find clarity. There were decisions to be made for Improbable Causes that would change not only her life, but Erika’s, as well.
Maybe she could walk it back. Starting to fall in love with him didn’t mean she had to tumble head over heels. She just needed to keep reminding herself over and over that she was leaving in a month, and that her life was in California.
And she would start by opening her laptop and really going through the deluge of information Erika had sent over the last two months. She’d sort it and make notes and really dig into how she felt about the possibilities.
She just needed to refocus herself, and the surge in her feelings for Rob would fade back to a summer infatuation.