This is What Goodbye Looks Like (15 page)

Landon swallows the Aspirin with a gulp and then sticks his tongue out at Seth.

“Very mature,” I say as I pop open my own door.

Seth sighs as he steps down to the pavement. “He’s sticking his tongue out at me again, isn’t he?”

“Yup,” I say. I grab my backpack and my cane off the seat and climb out of the car, wincing as my feet hit the ground and a spike of pain courses through my knee.

“Seriously?” Landon says, scowling at me. “You’re going to tattle on me?”

“I don’t need her to tattle,” Seth says, closing his door with a loud crack. “You’re just that predictable.”

Landon’s face crumples into an offended expression, and it’s enough to make me forget my pain for just a second and let out a small laugh. Seth cracks a smile, too, and then he lets out a short whistle. Koda hops down from the backseat and pads over to him, sitting obediently at her owner’s feet.

“Thanks for the ride, Landon,” I say, trying to make up for my laughter.

Landon shrugs and waves a hand at my door. “Just close the door and let me nap. And try to be quick in there.”

“We’re going to be at least fifteen minutes,” Seth warns.

Landon groans some mumbled complaint and starts the car again, turning the heater back on. I close my door as quietly as possible and head toward the sidewalk, doing my best to keep my footing on the icy pavement.

The photography shop in front of us is a tiny brick building, and it reminds me of a Christmas present with the way the climbing ivy wraps around it like a bow. There’s a sign above the door in the shape of an old Polaroid photo, and its plain lettering reads, “Perfect Shots Photo Shop.” If I were back home in San Diego, I’d think it was cute. But in this old-fashioned little town, the sign just makes me wonder how out-of-date this store is. Do they seriously still sell Polaroid cameras? And do they even know how to properly handle a digital one?

I clutch tighter to my backpack as I head inside the store, keeping my broken camera close. Tiny brass bells jingle from the top of the doorway, and Seth and Koda follow me inside, letting the door shut behind them with a bang that makes me jump. I peer around, taking in the cramped rows of shelves, all of them stuffed to the brim with camera supplies. A relieved breath rushes out of me. All of the equipment looks completely modern, and there’s even a display case featuring some top-of-the-line mirrorless cameras.

“The DSLR stuff is over to the right,” Seth says, nodding to that corner of the store.

“You’ve been in here before?” I ask, trying not to sound too surprised.

“With Parker,” he says, his voice suddenly quiet and solemn. “All the time.”

“Oh.”

“Be right there!” a gruff voice calls from the very back of the shop. “Feel free to browse around.”

I glance hesitantly at Seth, not wanting to just go snooping around without his permission. I know Parker had no true ownership of this place, but it still seems like I’m trespassing on hallowed ground. Seth seems to sense my uncertainty, because he gives a shrug and then a small nod.

I walk slowly down the main aisle in the center of the store, taking in all the displays. I can instantly see why Parker liked this place. Dozens of neatly-framed photos line the aisle, all of them captioned with little tags stating the name of the photographer and equipment used to take them. Some are classic landscape shots of the local forest, some are abstract images of snowflakes, but all of them feature gorgeous images from around Hendrickson.

“Wow,” I murmur, using my eyes to follow a half-frozen stream as it carves through a frosted meadow. The framed picture is hardly any bigger than my palm, but it’s still enough to make my mind buzz with the urge to track down the meadow and take my own pictures of its beauty.

“Good wow or bad wow?” Seth asks. He’s still standing near the entrance of the shop, although he’s shuffled to the side so he’s under one of the heater vents.

“Good,” I reply, trying not to sound too surprised. I was expecting this trip to be nothing but painful, but I can’t help the excitement growing inside me as I consider picking up a working camera again.

Another one of the photos catches my eye. It’s a picture hung right next to a display of lenses, and it features two baby deer playing together in a field of wildflowers. The focus is tight on the deer, and the surrounding flowers have a hazy, dreamy feel that makes me want to lose myself in the image. I step closer to it, but my gut drops as I read its tag:

Frolicking Fawns

Nikon D600 Series, Tamrom Telephoto Lens

Parker Ashbury

A loud slam comes from behind me, making me jump. I turn around and find a middle-aged man coming out from the back room of the shop. He’s huge, even taller than Seth and as bulky as an overweight bear. I think he’s trying to smile in greeting, but it looks a lot more like a snarl.

“Hey, kids!” he booms in an impossibly loud voice. “What can I do for you today?” Then he peers at Seth, and his smile plummets as he recognizes him. “Oh,” he says, his voice suddenly half the volume.

Seth nods at him. “Good to see you again, Jaime.”

Jaime bobs his head a couple of times as he shuffles his huge feet uncertainly. “I heard about Parker, and, uh, so sorry about that. He was a good kid. Damn fine photographer, too.”

“Thank you,” Seth says, but his tone is robotic and strained.

Jaime clears his throat, and it sounds like someone trying to hack up a thundercloud. “So...what can I do for you today?”

“Not for me,” Seth says. “My friend’s the one who needs your help.”

“I’m Lea,” I say, stepping forward and offering him my hand. Jaime grabs it, and I can’t help cringing as his thick, calloused hand shakes mine. I have no idea how he can work with delicate camera parts when he basically has paws for hands.

“Pleased to meet you, Lea,” he says. “I’m Jaime, the owner of this place.” He turns back to Seth and asks, “And how’s your fine beauty of a girl doing today?”

I’m about to snarl something defensive, but then I realize Jaime’s gesturing to Koda, not me. Oh. Of course. Jaime pulls away from me and heads over to the dog, kneeling in front of Koda and ruffling her ears.

“Koda’s perfect,” Seth says, both his expression and his tone softening. “As always.”

“Of course she is,” Jaime says. He gives her one more pat on the head and then turns back to me, his eyebrows raised. “Now. What exactly can I do for you, my dear?”

I unzip my backpack and carefully pull out my camera, holding it out so he can see the damage. Jaime bends over to peer at it, and the scent of bleach and quick-drying glue washes over me. He tilts his head from one side and then the other as he examines the camera, making small tsk-ing noises.

“Well,” he says, “it’s a beautiful piece of equipment, but you’ve let it get awfully beat up.”

I bite my lip to keep from telling him that the damage wasn’t my fault, that I’d never be so careless with Camille’s gift. Instead, I force myself to recite my prepared lie.

“Yeah. I dropped it down an embankment.”

“Did any water get on it?” Jaime asks.

“No, none.”

“Well, that’s good news. Is it turning on?”

“I charged the battery last night, and it’s turning on just fine. But the screen and lens are both shattered.”

“Hmm. Can I take a closer look at it?”

He holds out his giant paw-hands, and my heart thuds against my chest as I force myself to place the camera in his grasp. Seth trusts this guy, so I guess I should, too.

Jaime hmms and haws as he pokes at my camera, nudging various parts with a thick finger. After a minute or so, he gives a small nod.

“Looks like it’s fixable, although I won’t know for sure until I get this screen off the back and see what sort of damage the wiring has. You okay leaving it here for a couple days? I’ve got a few orders ahead of yours, but I could probably get this back to you in two days, maybe three.”

“How much?” Seth asks, already reaching for his wallet.

I grab at his sleeve, stopping his hand before it can find his pocket. “No. I’m paying for it.”

His brows furrow in confusion. “You’re doing me a favor with this project. Why should you pay?”

Jaime waves a hand at us, cutting short our debate. “You kids can argue about who pays later. I charge a ninety dollar repair fee, and I’m guessing you’ll need another two-hundred dollars worth of parts. As long as one of you can swing that, you can leave the camera with me. Come back on Tuesday to pick it up.”

My stomach clenches at the thought of leaving the camera here for a full three days, but I nod in agreement.

“Alright,” I say.

“Great,” Seth says. “We’ll be back Tuesday.”

Jaime nods and heads for the back of the shop, his brow already furrowed with concentration as he continues to examine my camera. I wait until the door to the back closes behind him and then reluctantly follow Seth out of the shop. The bells chime behind us, but as I start to head back toward Landon’s car, Seth says, “Wait.”

I pause. “What?”

“We should go get lunch.”

I bite my lip. “I...”

I came here for this. I should take every opportunity I can to get to know Seth better. I should be listening to him, and learning how he’s kept his family together, and formulating a plan to fix mine before Camille wakes up.

“I don’t think we should,” I murmur.

His face falls, and I swallow hard, mentally scrambling for an excuse.

“It’s too early,” I add. “For lunch, I mean.”

Seth tilts his head, a habit that seems to pop up whenever he’s confused. “You don’t want to be around me,” he says, his voice lower than usual. “Do you?”

The hurt in his tone is obvious, and I immediately feel terrible. But how do I explain to him that I’m trying to do the right thing? That spending time around him is using him, and that I’m willing to get to know him if it’ll help my family, but that becoming his friend is taking things too far?

He needs to know I’m toxic, but I can’t explain it to him without revealing that he’s already been poisoned.

“It’s not you,” I say, biting the inside of my cheek to keep myself from saying anything more.

“It is,” he insists. “You’re scared of me, and I have no clue why. But... You don’t have to be, okay? Seriously. I know you said I remind you of someone bad, but I’m a pretty decent guy. I promise.”

“I know,” I say, even though I don’t believe him. He’s not decent. He’s downright
good
, and it’s not fair that I keep lying to him.

But nothing about this situation has ever been fair.

“Then come get lunch with me.”

I clear my throat and try one more lame excuse. “But what about Landon? He seems pretty miserable, and we’ve already kept him waiting for like fifteen minutes...”

Seth crosses his arms. “You know what always makes Landon feel better when he has a hangover?”

“Um, resting back at your dorm?”

“Nope. Homemade chicken noodle soup.” Seth holds out his hand and flicks a couple fingers toward his palm, gesturing for me to follow him. “Let’s go get him some, okay?”

“Okay,” I say hesitantly. Seth gives a small, triumphant smile, and as he starts walking off down the street, I call after him, “But I’m paying!”

“Definitely not.”

“Definitely so,” I shoot back.

He gives one of his almost-not-quite chuckles, and his gait slows as he waits for me to catch up. “How about we argue about it over a burger?”

Chapter Sixteen

The streets of Hendrickson should be just as freezing as the rest of this state, but somehow they seem warmer, as if the small-town charm keeps the natural chill at bay. Or maybe it’s Seth doing that. He strides along beside me, narrating the town as we pass by sleepy little cafes and shops. Seth feeds me details as we make our way to the burger place, breathing life into the town with tidbits of public gossip.

According to him, the fire station is the color of puke because the only local painting company happens to be owned by the fire chief’s ex-wife. The art gallery next door is managed by a bizarre man, although no one can figure out if he’s actually a creep, or if he just enjoys putting up perverted works of art to watch the local church throw hissy fits. And the empty shop near the center of town was a pet store that went out of business a year ago, but Koda still gets excited every time she passes it.

I think his rambling should be boring, but it’s impossible not to go along with Seth’s obvious affection for his hometown.

“So where do you fit into all this?” I ask as we cross the street next to the old pet shop. I figure if I came all this way to figure out how Seth’s family has remained intact, it’s about time I start asking some substantial questions. “I mean, does your family live near here?”

He shakes his head. “I used to live right on the edge of town, but my family moved to Brooksport a couple years ago so my parents wouldn’t have to commute into work anymore. But Hendrickson will always be home to me.”

“That’s neat,” I say lamely, but I can’t help breathing a small sigh of relief. Seth has no way of recognizing me, but I know his parents would definitely remember my face. I’d been worrying about running into them, but if they’re living forty minutes away in Brooksport, it’s probably not a concern.