Champagne Toast (43 page)

“
Kate, please
—”

“
You
’
re not the only one who lost their first and only love,
”
she says softly.  I feel like I
’
ve been punched in the gut.  I
’
d always assumed she
’
d loved others before me.  I never dreamed I was the first.  I
’
m too dumbfounded to speak, and we stand in silence for a moment before Kate
’
s expression changes.  She looks irritated and impatient.

“
You need to go, Evan.  You came to see my piece, but now I
’
m asking you to leave.  This isn
’
t the time or the place for this
.” 
She crosses her arms in front of her chest.  And I know she
’
s right.  It
’
s time to go.  She deserves to focus on her art.

“
You
’
re right, I
’
m sorry
.” 
I hang my head, so afraid of walking out that door.  Afraid of her never speaking to me again.

“
Thank you,
”
she says, relaxing her posture slightly.

“
Before I go, though, I need to say something.  And I need you to hear me. 
Really
hear me.
”

“
Fine, what is it?
”
she asks, her arms still crossed, like armor in front of her chest.

“
I love you, Kate.  I
’
ve never stopped.  I love you and I want to be with you,
”
I say, placing my damaged heart right on my sleeve for the world to see.

“
But, can you trust me?  Can you have faith in me
,
despite what I may or may not have done before I met you?
”
she asks.

“
Yes,
”
I reply quickly, careful not to hesitate.

“
Show me,
”
she says matter-of-factly.

“
What do you mean?
”
I ask, dumbfounded.

“
Convince me.  If I
’
ve learned anything at all from our relationship
,
it
’
s that words are not nearly as important as actions.  Show me and maybe I
’
ll believe you.
”

“
Really?
”
I ask, hoping she isn
’
t just blowing smoke up my ass. 

“
Yes,
”
she says, a hint of her signature smile peeking through.  I can tell she
’
s doing her best not to, but it
’
s there.  The smile I adore.

“
All right,
”
I nod,
“
I
’
ll show you.
”

“
I
’
ll believe it when I see it,
”
she says with her signature attitude, before walking away.  I
’
m feeling hope for the first time in two very long years.

Kate

December 18, 2012

Lately,
‘
bittersweet
’
seems to be the theme of my life.
  The show was a big success. 
Several business cards were given out, as potential agents and journalists were interested in my work.  I
’
ve spoken to my mother once since the show and am planning to join my parents for Christmas dinner.
It
’
s
the first time in a long time
that I
’
m actually looking forward to spending time with them.  I don
’
t ever expect us to be a warm and fuzzy family.  I don
’
t expect my mother and I to have life-changing talks by the fire.  But, I
am
hoping we can get some sort of fresh start.

Evan showing up really threw me for a loop.
Of course, I knew that he had the flier and that he
’
d agreed to come, but I never dreamed he
’
d show up after what happened at Molly
’
s.
He seemed so done with me that night.  It felt like he slept with me one last time just to get us out of his system once and for all.  So, when I saw him at the gallery, staring at the canvas in awe, butterflies swarmed inside my stomach and my heart let him in again.  Now
I have no idea what to think. 
When I told him to convince me, I didn
’
t know what the hell I was saying.  Part of me thought he
’
d just throw up his hands and walk away.  But, he didn
’
t.  Instead, he seemed to accept the challenge. 

Laying in my bed on a lazy Tuesday morning, I jerk awake when the phone rings.  Who would be calling me so early?  Could it be him?

“
Hello?
”
I say tentatively into the receiver, wishing I had Caller ID on my phone.

“
Hello, my name is Deb Stuercke from Shutterbug Magazine.  Is this Kate Armour?
”

“
Yes, ma
’
am,
”
I answer, my heart leaping into my throat.

“
Kate, I was hoping that you would come into my office downtown.  I
’
d like to discuss some opportunities with you and it
’
d be best to do it in person.
”

“
Absolutely,
”
I say, sitting straight up in my bed, a huge grin plastered across my face. 
Opportunities.

“
Do you have any free time this afternoon?
I had a cancellation in my schedule.
”

“
Yes, yes, I have the day off.  I can be there any time
.” 
I sound completely overeager but I just don
’
t care.  I
’
m ecstatic and hopeful and I can
’
t wait for this meeting.

“
All right, then, we
’ll see you at 3 P.M.
at our offices downtown.  Do you have a pen?
”
I quickly grab a ballpoint pen and scribble down the address Deb gives me.  I hang up the phone with her and literally start to count down the minutes.  I crank my music
and
dance all around the room, so happy that I finally took a chance on myself.

***

I
’
m not sure that any day of my life has dragged the way this one has.  Finally it
’
s 2:45 and I
’
m walking up to the reception desk at Shutterbug.  A young woman behind the large desk greets me warmly and tells me to take a seat.  Sitting in a surprisingly comfortable navy blue chair, I sift through the pages of Shutterbug
’
s latest issue.  The idea of being in this magazine makes adrenaline course through my veins. 
Deep breaths, Kate.

After just a few minutes of pretending to read the articles of Shutterbug, a familiar face comes down the hall.  Her smile is wide as she greets me warmly.

“
Kate, thank you for coming.  Please, come to my office
.” 
I follow Deb to a gorgeous office that
’
s covered in stunning photos.  It
’
s not surprising, but it mesmerizes me just the same.  Deb seems pleased that I
’
m so taken with her decor.

“
The sign of a true photographer.  We always notice, don
’
t we?
”

“
You
’
re a photographer, Ms. Stuercke?
”
I ask, surprised.

“
Of course.  I
’
ve been taking pictures for almost 25 years.
I took every single shot on these walls.
Several different cameras, of course
.” 
She chuckles.
“
Have a seat and please call me Deb
.” 
I quickly take a seat, trying to hide my shaking hands in my lap. Luckily, Deb doesn
’
t seem to notice.

“
Okay, so I
’
m sure you
’
re wondering why you
’
re here
.” 
I nod and smile.
“
Your piece at the exhibition was fascinating.  You took something that is so simple in theory, and turned it into something flawless, something unique and eye-catching.  I think you have a tremendous eye.
”

“
Thank you,
”
I muster, blown away by her compliments.

“
We
’
d like to do a feature story on you.
”

“
Excuse me?
”
I ask, in shock.

“
It would be a four-page spread, nothing huge.  However, it would be tremendous exposure for your career
.” 
She pauses before continuing,
“
Do you have an agent yet?
”

“
No, I don
’
t,
”
I reply. 

“
Well, I suggest that you wait until the article is released before signing with anyone. I guarantee you will have plenty to choose from.
”

“
Wow,
”
I say, staring at her like a deer in headlights.

“
So, here
’
s what I need from you.  I need about 10-15 samples of your work.  We will obviously feature a photo of your show piece, as well.
”

“
Okay, I can do that
.” 
I beam.  Already, my br
ain is racing with ideas of which
samples to use.

“
Someone from the magazine will also be emailing you some interview questions for the article.  The focus will be on your choice to use film.  We also think readers will be fascinated to see that you have your own darkroom
.” 
She pauses again.
“
That reminds me, we
’
ll be sending someone to your apartment to get some pictures of you developing your photos
.” 
I nod in agreement.

“
This all sounds wonderful, Deb.  Thank you so much for this opportunity.  I don
’
t know what to say.
”

“
Well, you just focus on finding the samples
,
and I
’
ll be in touch after the holidays.
”

We shake hands and I take the train back to my apartment, a perma-grin affixed to my face.  I cannot stop smiling at everyone I come in contact with.  The only thing that gives me pause is the realization that the one person I want to share this news with the most is the
one
person I refuse to call. 

Evan

December 19, 2012

Show me.

Convince me.

Those words are all I hear inside my head.  I try to turn my brain off, but I can
’
t. 
Show me.  Convince me.
  I have been wracking my brain for days.  How on earth am I going to show her that I trust her, show her how I
’
m desperately in love with her?  I thought my words would be enough, but I was wrong.  She wants to see it with her
eyes
.

Patrick is no help.  He just got back from his honeymoon and he
’
s still recovering from their Hawaiian vacation.  He knows Kate means a lot to me, but he
’
s so burned out from planning his wedding that he
’
s not exactly someone who
’
s ready to brainstorm with me.  Looks like I might have
to pull this off on my own. But,
how?