Camera Never Lies

CHAPTER
ONE

E
veryone I knew except my mother maintained a personal space bubble.

“Polly…” Tears welled in Mom’s eyes as we lounged outside at the Terrace Café, which overlooked Caldera Lake. “I’ve lost a great deal of money.” Her features drooped.

Mom’s bubble was more like a space dome, where everyone was invited in and welcomed to her conversation. I studied her. Looking uncomfortable under my scrutiny, she sighed and shifted in her seat before slumping against the wicker chair back. Though she was no stranger to melodrama, she’d never seemed this distressed. Not even the innumerable other times someone had taken advantage of her.

I leaned in and kept my voice down, hoping to lead by example. “What do you mean exactly? What happened?” Though nothing made me angrier than scams targeted at seniors, I couldn’t help but wonder if Mom might be partly to blame.

She wiped her eyes. “I tell you, I’m so mad. I want to kill that man!”

The rage in her voice pulsated through me. I sat rigid, wishing the table umbrella would shade me from more than the sun as I glanced around. I knew she hadn’t meant that literally. But would others? With her hair dyed auburn to cover the gray, she could be my twin, albeit thirty years older. I touched the cross necklace I wore, not unlike hers, and hoped people wouldn’t get us mixed up.

The way she exposed her problems to the world, laid her feelings out for perusal, shoved me to the limit.
My
bubble of personal space was more like a force field of stress-detecting sensors, similar to the United States military’s measure of their defense condition readiness. And I was at DEFCON 3. My left eye began twitching.

A blond Swedish-looking couple having lunch at a nearby table eyed us. My best mind-your-own-business look produced the effect I wanted, or perhaps my nervous twitch gave me the appearance of a neurotic sociopath. They turned their attention to their plates as if suddenly fascinated by their food.

I positioned my Nikon to peer through the lens. During stressful moments this action became part of my relaxation technique. By transforming my camera into a crutch and looking through the lens, life narrowed down to manageable proportions, giving me a focused, clear perspective.
A safe perspective
. After a few wide-angle snapshots of the lake, which I could see well from my perch, I began to relax.

Only a few minutes before, Mom had found me taking pictures of the lake, which rested deep inside a volcanic caldera. The sides of the caldera made up the rim that dipped down two thousand feet before reaching the lake. The café seemed a good place to enjoy the beautiful seventy-degree weather and catch up with each other. I’d already had lunch as had Mom, so she’d ordered an iced tea. Now she had dropped the I-want-to-kill-someone bomb. All of a sudden this didn’t seem like such a great place to discuss her problems.

“Why don’t we go somewhere with more privacy?” I stood, glancing at the nosy couple. They remained devoted to their food. “Have you already checked in?”

Mom’s eyes were as glassy as the lake. Had she even heard my suggestion? While I waited for a response, I studied her again. She’d never worn what I termed high fashion clothing but liked to dress in a matching theme from head to toe. Today’s theme—penguins. Vibrantly colored sandals matched her slacks and shirt, embroidered with all manner of penguins. A missing penguin earring caught my attention. I should have realized right away that something was bothering her.

She tugged her earlobe and sniffled. “Oh dear, I’ve lost my earring.” She slid her hand over the table as she searched then peeked underneath. “Ah, there it is.” When her themed outfit was restored, she once again took up her demeanor of discontent. “I’m in room 325. Where are Rene and her fiancé? I thought you’d be with them.”

“Rene is always late.” I toyed with my camera, waiting for Mom to stand up. “She’ll probably be late to her own wedding. Besides, I really don’t expect them until later this afternoon.”

I’d come to Caldera Lake National Park and the lodge where Rene, one of my longtime friends, was getting married on Sunday. We grew up in a nearby small town. The lodge was located in the Oregon Cascades, only a few hours’ drive from the Oregon coast where I now lived, and only thirty minutes from where Mom lived. Rene had asked me to photograph the wedding. I’d been working too hard, was a wreck and grateful for the break. But I hadn’t been there long enough for the fresh air to soften the circles under my eyes when Mom arrived, bearing her dreadful news.

She pushed to her feet, her frown making her look much older than her sixty-seven years. I paid for the tea while Mom leaned across her chair to retrieve her jean bag adorned with penguins. I shuddered at the thought of how much luggage she’d brought to maintain her themes.

“Polly! Is that you?” a voice asked from behind me.

I turned to see a man weaving his way around the tables toward me. He sported an awkward toupee. His strong cologne reached me before he did—something I never held in high regard. I sneezed three times, my normal response to strong scents.

Do I know him?

I tried to keep from frowning as my brain processed his appearance. He tugged his hand from his pocket and I thrust mine out, thinking he wanted to shake it. Instead, he brandished a bloodred handkerchief and blew his nose.

Ah. Now I remember
.

“Alec?”

All the bitterness of the old grudge swept over me as I stared at this specter from my past: Alec Gordon. The memory of what he’d done still haunted me almost twenty years since last I saw him. Time didn’t always heal old wounds. “What a surprise. What are you doing here?”

“I thought that was you.” A tight-fitting maroon shirt revealed muscular arms and shoulders, with only a slight thickening at the waist.

At thirty-eight, I liked to consider myself healthy. But when Alec looked me up and down, my cheeks grew warm. I thought to excuse myself and be done, but I couldn’t be rude. Besides, Mom had created a scene moments before with her death threat. I hoped to be remembered only as a cameo, so I wasn’t about to create another scene with Alec.

Unless my eyes played tricks, he appeared to push his chest forward, plumping himself up like a rooster. I didn’t consider myself a spring chicken.

“I still live in the area. Own a big spread, too.” He wiped his nose once more then stuffed the handkerchief back in his pocket. “I like to come up to Caldera Lake as often as I can. Fresh air and all that. I’m in real estate. How about yourself—what brings you here? I’d heard you’d gotten married and moved away.”

When you meet someone from your school days, you want to show the portfolio of your success. Sharing the news with Alec that my husband went sailing eight years ago and never returned wasn’t even at the bottom of my things-you-should-do-before-you-die list.

Never mind that during our high school years Alec had caused a tragedy that forever altered my life. I wasn’t in the frame of mind to talk to him and didn’t know what to say.

My mouth went dry as I floundered in a deep lake of resentment. I looked to Mom to throw me a life preserver.

She was gone.

My gaze ricocheted around the terrace in an unsuccessful search before returning to Alec. “Actually, I live in Gunner Beach and run a family portrait business. I have to admit, the beauty of Caldera Lake has me thinking about a different sort of photography.”

Capturing the glorious scenery of the lake surrounded by mountains was just what my tired photographer’s eyes needed. Though portraits were my primary source of income, the way people dressed for having their portrait done had taken its toll on me. One could only deal with so many pictures of mismatched jackets, earrings, and shoes. And pink lipstick made teeth appear yellow no matter how many whitening strips were used. Maybe my obsessive tendencies warranted therapy, but I resolved to avoid looking through critical glasses, at least for this long weekend.

“How long do you plan to be here?” Alec rocked back and forth on his feet.

His action reminded me of when I bought the boring four-door sedan I own. The salesman had done the same thing as he closed the deal and sold me a car I didn’t want. I had the uncanny sensation Alec was about ready to close his deal. It made me nervous, because I wasn’t for sale.