his little girl would reappear at the most inopportune moment to utterly humiliate him. He couldn’t seem to appreciate how desperately Marley struggled not to go to her father for assistance. Nor did he get the whole concept of turning one’s life around, maybe because he had such a hard time doing so himself.
“Marley?” Ben’s gentle tone drew her thoughts to the present. “You looked a million miles away.”
“Just planning in my head what kind of portrait your aunt and uncle would like. I’m thinking a location shoot right there at the ranch.”
“I like it. I could see the two of them on the porch swing, with the mountains in the background, maybe around sunset—”
“Hey!” Laughing, Marley waved her hands. “I’m the photographer, last time I checked.”
Ben rested an elbow on the counter. His lazy grin did something to Marley’s insides. “Isn’t the customer entitled to offer suggestions?”
“Only if he doesn’t get in the way of my creative vision.” Marley crossed to the other side of the counter and pulled out her appointment book. “When do you want to do this?”
“I’ll need to check with Uncle Steve and Aunt Jane. They don’t even know about the idea yet.”
“Just let me know. For a full-size portrait on canvas, I have to send the proof to a photo lab, which takes time.” Marley laid a catalog on the counter and began flipping pages. “You need to decide what size portrait you want, then whether you prefer traditional stretched canvas or mounted on foam board. Then you have framing options—”
Eyes glazing, Ben raised his hands. “Why do I have a feeling this is going to be a lot more expensive than I bargained for?”
It happened every time. People came in wanting a family portrait or looking for a wedding photographer, and when Marley started talking prices, they looked as if she’d hit them with a stun gun. Would she ever get the hang of easing the client into the monetary portion of their discussion?
Pasting on a patient smile, she closed the catalog and slid it onto the shelf beneath the counter. “Don’t sweat it. We have lots of options, and I’m perfectly willing to try to work within your budget.”
“That’s good, since I don’t have one. I’m unemployed, remember?”
“Hard to forget, Salad Man.” Marley winked. “I have an idea.” She opened a drawer and brought out a gray vellum envelope. Inside was a blank gift certificate, which she laid on the counter in front of Ben. “We don’t have to talk prices now, but I’ll write in ‘one professional portrait sitting and print,’ and you can present it to your aunt and uncle. We’ll figure out the rest later.”
Ben ran his index finger along the certificate’s silver border, then looked up at Marley with a grin. “This is perfect. Thanks.”
His gaze held hers so long that she almost forgot how to breathe. She straightened and reached for her calligraphy pen. “All righty, then, I’ll fix this right up for you.”
* * *
Forty years. Ben had a hard time wrapping his head around the number. How did two people stay together so long, and look so happy doing it? But then, if Mom hadn’t died, she and Dad would have celebrated their thirty-sixth anniversary this year. Ben and his brother, Aidan, used to be mortified by their parents’ public displays of affection. Keith and Emily Fisher had had the kind of marriage Ben had always secretly wanted for himself someday.
And then came Paula. Thoughts of Ben’s brassy new stepmother made Ben shudder worse than fingernails on a chalkboard. But when Dad chose to remarry so quickly, he hadn’t asked for anyone else’s opinion, least of all his own sons’.
All these thoughts played through Ben’s mind that evening when he presented Uncle Steve and Aunt Jane the gift certificate Marley had prepared. Their enthusiastic response reminded him all over again why Steve and Jane were his favorite aunt and uncle. First they hugged him until he begged for mercy, and then they hugged and kissed each other like a couple of newlyweds.
“Sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for us.” Aunt Jane wiped tears from her eyes. “We haven’t had a nice portrait done since our twentieth.”
“Not counting those church directory pictures every few years.” Uncle Steve grimaced. “Regular cattle call, the way they rush you in and out.” He stroked Aunt Jane’s cheek with a tender touch, his voice softening. “And last time they airbrushed away all my sweetheart’s character lines.”
“Character lines, my foot.” Giving her husband a playful punch on the arm, Aunt Jane winked at Ben. “Sounds to me like your uncle needs a new pair of bifocals.”
“I think you’re gorgeous, Aunt Jane.” Ben fetched the coffeepot and refilled everyone’s mugs. As they returned to their seats around the kitchen table, he asked, “So, can we set up a time with Marley soon?”
Ben’s aunt put a hand to the silver curls brushing her neck. “All depends on when I can get a salon appointment. If we’re going to be preserved for posterity, I want to look my best!”
“I should have my suit dry-cleaned, too,” Uncle Steve said. “Only ever wear it to weddings and funerals.”
“No suits allowed.” Ben smirked as he stirred hazelnut-flavored creamer into his decaf. “Seriously, I want to remember you just like you are today.”
“Aw, Ben.” His aunt patted his arm. “You’ve always been like a son to us. Having you around more than makes up for not having kids of our own. I’m glad your mama was willing to share.”
“Me, too.” Ben glanced away. Even two years later, he couldn’t keep the lump from climbing into his throat. “I miss her.”
“I miss her, too,” Uncle Steve said, glancing away. “My little sister was the best.”
The kitchen grew quiet for a few moments, and Ben couldn’t stop thinking that God must really have had it in for him. First his mom’s death, then Dad’s remarriage. And now, on top of everything else, the career Ben had fought so hard for had been ripped away.
As if sensing he needed to change the subject, Aunt Jane picked up the gift certificate, a bemused smile tilting her lips. “Still can’t get over you doing this for us. Marley’s really going to set up her camera stuff out here?”
“The ranch landscape will be the perfect backdrop.” Ben fought to shove down the niggling resentment, a side of himself he was growing to dislike more every day. “If we can decide soon on a date, she may be able to get it done before her after-school classes start up. Plus, it sounds like she’s really busy with this mission outreach stuff.”
Uncle Steve sipped his coffee. “I heard they’re planning a trip to Candelaria the week before Christmas. Got a call from Marley’s pastor over the weekend asking if we’d let them use our RV.”
“You should join Marley’s committee,” Aunt Jane suggested. “I’m sure they could use someone with your business sense.”
Ben scratched his head. “What do I know about church committees? Anyway, I should be spending my time job hunting.”
Aunt Jane rose and began
