The Calendar of New Beginnings (7 page)

That sounded ominous. If they had a project, Dare Valley had better watch out. When they were young mothers, Ellen and April had organized a breastfeeding fair for women. They’d suggested that women should stop covering themselves in church, restaurants, and local stores. Suffice it to say, the whole town had been scandalized. Her dad might have thrown a blanket over her mom’s boob and begged her to stop. Breastfeeding openly was more widespread now, of course—her mother had been ahead of her time.

“It was so nice to see you and Andy together again last night,” April said, pouring herself another cup of coffee. She and Ellen stood next to each other, a united front, while Lucy ate off the kitchen island. “Your friendship has certainly stood the test of time. Just like mine with your mother.”

The two women put their arms around each other with sisterly affection.
 

“Yeah, we’ve done pretty good, Shorty,” her mother said, making April laugh.

Was her mother quoting rap lyrics? Lucy didn’t want to know.

“Andy is doing better, I suppose,” April continued. “Moving back here was the best decision he could have made. He’s been able to spend more time with Danny.”

According to Andy, that was one of the main reasons he’d made the plunge. He didn’t want to miss out on anything as Danny grew up. Moreover, he needed to be mother and father to the little boy, and long hospital hours weren’t conducive to quality family time.

“It was good for me too,” April continued, “coming back here. I get to be a hands-on grandma and reconnect with all of my old friends.”
 

Lucy watched April and Ellen share a look before they turned their attention on her. She felt as pinned down as a butterfly in a display case.

“Like you get to reconnect with Andy,” her mother added, as if April hadn’t already laid the groundwork brilliantly.

Lucy took another bite of her steaming eggs. She couldn’t talk with her mouth full.

“Danny’s growing like a weed,” her mother continued. “He’s as cute as button and then some.”

Subtle, Mother.
She gulped her coffee next, burning her mouth.

“Just like his father,” April said, grabbing the coffee pot and topping off her mug.

“I’m glad to see you’re eating so well, Lucy,” her mother said, eyeing her plate. “You’re too skinny. All that traveling overseas is hard on you.”
 

“I’m fine.” Lucy gave her a look before shoveling in more eggs.

“That’s a great segue to our project,” April said, setting her mug on the island. “We were hoping to get your help. With all your photography experience, this will be a piece of cake.”

Lucy’s chewing slowed. Why were the hairs on the back of her neck suddenly standing at attention?

“What project?” she asked, seeing no escape.

Her mom rested a hand on her shoulder.
Oh, no.
Not the hand-on-the-shoulder move!

“You know those calendars you take photos for?” April asked. “The ones of the poor kids in Africa?”
 

“Yes,” she said cautiously, gritting her teeth at the description.

“They look great, dear,” her mom said, pointing to the current year calendar hanging on the side of the refrigerator. “But really sad too.”

Sad was her mother’s code for bad. Ellen O’Brien didn’t do sad. Lucy set her fork down. “What do you want me to do?”
 

April tucked her salt-and-pepper hair behind her ears. “We want you to shoot the photos for a calendar we’ve organized to raise money for breast cancer awareness and research.”

Lucy knew about April’s recent scare. And of course there was Kim. “What kind of photos did you have in mind?” Could she even shoot them with her vision being what it was? She hadn’t taken a single photo since the accident. Hadn’t been able to pick up her Leica.

April shared a look with her mother. “You tell her. It was your idea.”

Somehow that kindled fear in her very heart. Her mother was known for her outlandish ideas.
 

“Have you seen the movie
Calendar Girls
, honey?” her mother asked. “The one with Helen Mirren?”

“I didn’t catch that one,” she said, trying to remember the last movie she’d seen. “I don’t get to see many movies, Mom.”

Her mother patted her shoulder. “It’s a British film about women raising money for some medical issue—can’t remember what kind right now. Doesn’t matter. And all the women in the calendar show a little skin. If you know what I mean.” The grin on her face told Lucy
exactly
what she meant.

She blinked a couple times. “You want me to shoot photos for a
Playboy
-like calendar?” Her mom had never been shy about her body. In fact, she was infamous around town for her habit of hopping into the backyard hot tub naked in broad daylight. But this…

“No, dear,” April said earnestly, patting Lucy’s hand. “Nothing like that. Although I have been called Miss April before.”

Her mother snorted. Miss April? This was not the kind of information Lucy wanted taking up space in her brain.

“While it might be fun to go for the full monty, your mother and I have decided on something else,” April continued. “We’ll be naked—like the women in the movie—and cover our…ah…feminine parts with amusing props. Like cantaloupes or something.” She made a gesture to her ample chest.

“We’re going to need pretty big cantaloupes for you, April,” her mom said, starting to laugh.

“Or those small watermelons at the market,” April added seriously, shorting out Lucy’s brain momentarily.

Mrs. Hale, the woman who used to make cookies for the school bake sale and had taught all her daughters not to let boys touch their private parts, was talking like this?

Lucy felt a headache coming on. She just couldn’t get past the naked part—and all the melon talk.
 

Then her mom walked to the fruit bowl sitting on the counter. “Too bad I don’t have a weenie because we have to use this banana for something. Guess I’ll have to settle for the avocados since I’m only a B-cup.”

Lucy put a hand to her forehead as her mother picked up a pair of avocados and arranged them against her boobs. “Please, Mom. Stop. You’re going to give me nightmares.”

April chortled. “Hand me those mangoes, Ellen, and I’ll show you where to put them.”

All hell really had broken loose. Her mom was pressing two avocados to her breasts while April nestled the mangoes against her girls.

“I really am going to need cantaloupes or watermelons,” April said, tsking as she set her fruit on the counter. “Mangoes are way too small.”

“Ladies, please,” Lucy implored, trying to rein them back in. “If you want me to take this seriously, you need to put the fruit down. Now, Mother.”

Her mom wiggled her body suggestively before putting the avocados down. “You’re so serious sometimes.”

“I’m a professional,” Lucy said, making them both sputter with laughter. “Let’s start over. You’re planning to do a calendar to raise money for breast cancer. Obviously, the two of you have volunteered for photos, but a year has twelve months.”

Her mom rolled her eyes. “We have other people lined up besides us, Lucy. Everyone has lost someone to cancer. And it’s not just women. We have men too. Your father had reservations, but April and I are committed to the idea of an equal opportunity calendar.”

She could imagine it now. Old men with hot dogs in front of their family jewels. Her stomach churned from the horror. “You don’t mean Andy, do you?” Surely her friend would have told her about this if he’d known. Besides, she couldn’t see Andy posing nude with a foot-long in front of his… Oh, she needed to stop that train of thought right this minute.

“Of course not,” her mother said. “He’s the father of a young son. How would it look if he posed naked with a frankfurter covering his crotch?”

The nightmare just wouldn’t stop. “Please. Can we try and keep this…I don’t know…somewhat professional? Right now, this whole thing sounds pretty risqué. I’ve never done anything like this, and even though it’s for a good cause, I might not be the right person to help.” Besides, she wasn’t sure she could even take photos right now.

April’s face fell. “It’s going to be tasteful, Lucy, I promise you.”

Her mother glared at her. “Do you think something like this is beneath you, what with you being a hot-shot photojournalist and all?”
 

Now that hurt. But there was some truth to it. She was known for her work. How would it look if she photographed a scantily-clad calendar, even if it did raise money for a worthy cause?

“Do you really think Dare Valley is…liberal enough to support this effort?” Lucy could easily imagine how some would react.
 

“It’s a small community,” April said with a sigh. “We expect there will be some resistance, but we’re hoping that it won’t be an issue considering how many respected citizens have agreed to participate.”

“Don’t forget the involvement of a famous, well-respected photographer,” her mother added, picking up the banana and shaking it in her direction.

Lucy felt a pinch of guilt, which was probably her mother’s intention.

“Florence Henklemeyer is going to be fit to be tied over this,” her mom continued, waving the banana about like she was Justice with her shining sword. “But after the smear campaign Florence’s son pulled on Matt in the mayoral primary, we’re looking forward to putting their knickers in a wad.”

“Florence went after Jane for being a former poker babe, saying she was indecent,” April said, a hard gleam in her eyes. “Your mom and I aren’t going to back down to the likes of her. This calendar is nothing to be ashamed of. It’s going to help a lot of women get mammograms and other care. After what happened to Kim and my own scare with breast cancer, I want to do something to help.”

There was fire in her voice, and it roused the fighter in Lucy. Breast cancer did need to be fought, both through raising awareness and money for research and care.

“Lucy,” April said, taking her hand. “We all plan to dedicate our month to the loved one we lost. And I have a name for it. The calendar, I mean.”

Lucy nodded, feeling her hand vibrate with emotion.

“I figured that since we’ve all had to learn to live again after losing someone to cancer, we’ll call it The Calendar of New Beginnings.”

Lucy had to swallow the lump in her throat. She knew something about new beginnings. “April, it’s a beautiful name and a beautiful idea.”

“I’m dedicating my month to your grandmother,” her mom told her. “My mom was a tough woman, but she loved me and you too, kid. Do you remember how she used to make you ham sandwiches and oatmeal raisin cookies every Tuesday for school lunch? I wish I could still pick up the phone and call her. I even miss playing bridge with her—although she delighted in beating me into the ground.”

Her grandmother had been fierce and competitive, but she’d always been kind to Lucy. She had died of lung cancer eight years ago. “Of course I remember, Mom. She was something.”

“And my month is dedicated to Kim, of course,” April said, pursing her lips as if fighting strong emotion. “I miss that girl. She was a shining light in our family, and for Andy and Danny.”

“So will you do it?” her mom asked.

She reached for April’s other hand, both of them gazing at her with hope and determination. They would do it without her, she knew. And if she didn’t help, she’d feel like crap. Maybe this was her chance to learn how to take photos without her normal vision. If her condition didn’t rectify itself, she’d need all the practice she could get to adjust to her new constraints. While she would give it her best, no one would be expecting award-winning photographs for this calendar. That should help her deal with her terror over taking photos again, shouldn’t it?

“All right, I’ll do it,” she announced, “but I want full artistic control.”

They shrieked and high-fived each other.

“Hear me well,” Lucy said, rubbing her ear. “We are
not
doing cantaloupes.”

April grabbed her in a hug. “Don’t worry, Lucy. They’ll be going out of season soon anyway.”

“If you don’t like the cantaloupes, Lucy,” her mom said, putting her arms around them both, “I’ve got lots of other ideas.”

Lucy could only imagine. “I bet.”

“There’s only one other thing,” April added, giving them all space.

“What?” she asked.

“Everyone has promised to keep the calendar a secret until it’s ready for publication.”

“Good idea,” she agreed.

Her mom cocked a brow. “April isn’t sure how Andy will take the news. Her scare…stirred him up…and then there are his memories of Kim.”

To her mind, it didn’t help Andy the way everyone tried to handle him with kid gloves. “I won’t keep my involvement in this calendar a secret from him. He’s my best friend.”

April’s face contorted. “I’m afraid to tell him. He…tried to hide it from me, but I know how much my scare affected him.”

Lucy tucked her tongue against her cheek. “He’s stronger than you think, and it’s not like you can hide this from him forever. The calendar will be published at some point.”