Betsy Amant - Her Family Wish

Jude set his drink down and watched the commercial playing on the big screen with bleary eyes, wishing the headache roaring in the back of his head would stop—and take all the back and forth, wishy-washy contradictions over Hannah with it. No, he couldn’t bring Hannah any further into his messed-up world. Coffee would be an apology. Nothing more. Jude didn’t need to date an employee, even if she was a temp and not technically employed by the school. Nothing good could come from that. She’d be hanging around for a few weeks helping Sophia, and after all his blunders, he didn’t need to make that time more awkward than it already would be. Then she’d be gone, and his problem would be over.

Besides, Hannah could never truly own the title of Ms. Right, even if Jude grew even more selfish than he already was and actually wanted her to claim it. She was a photographer—everything in her thrived on making things beautiful through that thick camera lens.

He refused to fight that kind of ugly again. He saw where it led, what it destroyed. Better to steer clear than to get sucked in, especially where Abby was concerned.

Jude clicked the remote control and abrupt sound from the next commercial flooded his living room. He inched the volume down, mindful of Abby trying to sleep across the hall, and closed his eyes, wishing he remembered how to pray. Wishing he could erase the last decade’s worth of mistakes and choices.

* * *

“I have to admit, I’ve never heard of an engagement shoot taking place inside a skating rink.” Sophia set Hannah’s bag of props on the bench against the carpeted wall the next afternoon and sank down beside it.

Hannah held one finger to her lips, before waving to the young couple on the wooden rink a few yards away. “Lucy’s on the local Derby team. And Mark is— Well, Mark’s…”

“In love?” Sophia supplied, as Mark wobbled helplessly on his skates. He would have fallen, if Lucy hadn’t grabbed his arms. The couple laughed, the happy sound bubbling over the low brick wall separating them from Hannah.

“Apparently.” Hannah shook her head, wondering what it would be like to be so committed to someone, you’d willingly embrace all their quirks—when it was obvious your interests vastly differed.

Mark attempted a slow circle on the floor with Lucy’s help, their elbows linked and heads bent close together. Hannah nibbled on her lower lip. What did God have in store for this couple? Would they still be smiling a year after their wedding? Would they immediately have children?

Must be nice to have the option.

She shook off the familiar pattern of bitterness before it could grow too dark, and turned her attention back to her friend. “Anyway, thanks for coming to help. It shouldn’t be too crazy though, since Lucy was able to reserve the rink for us to do this privately.” The skating rink might be a little unconventional, but most of the time, unconventional made for the best pictures. This would be fun—if she kept her focus on the job at hand and quit coveting a younger couple’s life.

Sophia pulled off her boots and slid her feet into a pair of skates that looked as if they hadn’t seen the light of day in a decade. “It’s no problem. I sort of owe you after all you’ve done for my class. Our first photography session with CREATE is tomorrow, don’t forget.” She bent and began tying the laces. “Man, I haven’t skated in forever.”

“Obviously.” Hannah gestured to her scuffed skates. “I’m surprised those still fit.”

“They were new—in college.” Sophia smirked as she yanked the laces into a knot. “What, you’re not going to take pictures while rolling around with us?”

“I sort of value my camera equipment too much to risk that.” Not to mention Hannah had zero balance on skates as a child, and she figured that fact hadn’t changed with lack of practice over the past fifteen years.

Sophia stood smoothly on her skates, just as Lucy let go of Mark on the rink. He immediately fell hard on one knee. Sophia winced. “Ouch. I hope you can edit out bruises.”

“Trust me, my editing program at home does wonders.” Hannah slipped the proper lens onto her camera. “I can fix frizzy hair, sweat—whatever the client wants.”

“Sort of like how the magazine people do for their models, I guess.” Sophia blew a strand of her hair out of her eye as she began inching toward the wooden floor. “Speaking of models, guess what I heard through the teachers’ lounge gossip mill?”

Hannah pulled a bouquet of fresh wildflowers from her prop bag and followed Sophia onto the floor toward the couple. “It’s really none of my business.” She hated gossip, especially after seeing people talking about her, gesturing to their own faces and whispering, wondering what had happened behind raised hands instead of asking her outright. No, gossip was not her thing.

“Are you sure?” Sophia’s voice was singsongy, as if her old skates were somehow bringing back her more immature college days. “It’s about Jude.”

Hannah paused, wishing that fact didn’t change her opinion about gossip in general. Then she shook it off. “You guys ready?” She motioned for Lucy and Mark to come to their side of the rink, then drew a deep breath, lowering her voice. “Sophia, it’s still none of my business.”

Unfortunately. She had to admit, though, she was a little curious how in the world Sophia went from saying “speaking of models” to this revelation. Surely Jude didn’t model on the side.

Though with his charm and those business suits…well, she’d certainly buy the catalog.

Sophia watched as Lucy turned back to help Mark wobble their way. “How is it not your business? You’re going out with him for coffee tonight.”

“Only to talk about Abby. It’s not a date.” But earlier she’d debated for a solid hour on what to wear, as if it were. Maybe it wasn’t supposed to be a date, but it could turn that direction. Maybe Jude was using his daughter as a cover-up for wanting to get to know Hannah better. It could happen. Anything could happen.

“It’s not really gossip, anyway, more like a new piece of that handsome puzzle.” Sophia took the flowers from Hannah and gave them a sniff. “Turns out, his ex-wife used to be a model.”

Any lingering hopes of Jude noticing Hannah over a white chocolate mocha crashed and burned in the bubbling pool that was now her stomach. As if on their own accord, Hannah’s fingers reached up and touched her scar, her spirits plummeting. Anything could happen? Right. And maybe Mark would be ready to compete in a professional Derby bout tomorrow.

“A model, huh? Like, for Sears?” Hannah’s voice cracked, and she cleared her throat.

Sophia fixed her with a look. “I think a little more exotic than that.”

No wonder Abby was so gorgeous. Hannah’s former thoughts rose up in a chorus of too-familiar tormenters, and laughed in her face. How could she have ever even briefly entertained the idea that a man like Jude, used to physical perfection, could be interested in someone like her?

That’s not fair, Hannah. You barely even know him. Her conscience blared a warning that she was crossing an emotional threshold she had no business crossing. But her runaway thoughts wouldn’t obey and corral. She might not know Jude well, but she knew his temper—she’d had a front-row seat to that show, twice now. And she knew he must pride himself on image, always looking so professional and keeping such a close eye on Abby’s wardrobe.

Hannah’s hands tightened around her camera. And she knew how much he loved his daughter.

It’s just a scar. You’re not a mutant. People have seen worse. Hannah ran through the mental checklist of notes she tried to tell herself in the mirror every day after the accident, but failed now as she did then. Maybe it was just a scar—but when compared to a model, she might as well be significantly deformed.