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“Does your face and lips know that? Because you're sort of glowing, and you haven’t stopped smiling since you dashed into the house.”
“I am not.” She forced her lips into a frown. The corners immediately popped back up. “Okay, so I’m smiling. It was fun. I can smile because it was fun.”
“And because you like him.”
“Grandma, nothing can come of it.” She set her glass down. “I don’t need a relationship right now, especially one that’s in Wishing Well. Everyone knows long distance doesn’t work.” Even if it did, she’d just gotten out of a long-term relationship. She needed a little time on her own to figure herself out and then maybe think about dipping her toe in the dating pool again.
Her grandma eyed her and then pointed to the kitchen table. “You look like you could use an ear. Sit. I’ll make some hot chocolate, and we can talk. It’s been forever since we’ve done that.”
A few moments later, her grandma slid a cup of hot chocolate with a spoon sticking out in front of her and took a seat across from her. “Talk.”
She swirled the spoon in the drink. “I’ve been at the magazine for five years. It’s been great, but Delia keeps promising me that she’ll let me be a photographer. Every time I think she’ll keep her word, something happens. They just can’t move me. They can’t lose such a great writer. I’m needed where I am…blah, blah, blah.”
“You are an excellent writer. Always have been.” Her grandma paused a beat. “But that’s never been where your heart is. You’ve always loved taking pictures.”
Jo gave a long sigh. “I just… I feel like I’ve given the magazine so much of myself. Traveling, writing article after article, and I’m grateful that they gave me a chance after I got out of college. But…”
“You want to follow your heart.”
“I do. No pun intended,” she said with a chuckle. “I’ve spoken to the head of the photography department, Hayden Smith, and he said my photos are great and that he’d love to have me on the team. Of course, I haven’t told Delia that. It would be one thing if I knew I didn’t have a shot, but I do.”
Her grandma took a sip of her chocolate. “Do you really want to work for the magazine, taking photos of weddings?”
“It would open doors. Hayden invites his team to a party every year. They rub elbows with some of the most influential people. People who can make an artist’s career.”
“I see.”
“Grandma, I don’t know what to do. Now that Arianna is at the magazine, I don’t know if or when another spot will open up for me. Do I wait it out, or do I give up?”
They sat quietly for a moment, sipping on their drinks.
“Would it really be giving up if you left? Just because that opportunity didn’t work out doesn’t mean another one wouldn’t come along. What if you were a freelance writer? You could travel and write what you wanted. Clearly, you’ve got a following, or you wouldn’t have Hollywood stars asking for you.”
Jo had toyed with the idea a few times, but the thought of striking out on her own scared her. It was risky. Not that she didn’t think she could do the writing, but what if she never got the chance to do what she loved? What if no one ever wanted to buy her photos or print them?
Silence lingered as they each drank a little more.
“Do you remember when we used to talk about turning this place into a bed and breakfast and wedding venue?” Grandma smiled.
Nodding, Jo leaned back in her chair. “I remember.” Then she’d met Craig. Meeting him changed a lot of things. When she’d mentioned it to him, he’d told her Wishing Well was a small town and it was a money pit. It was too much of a risk with little chance of it working out.
“We’d talk for hours about it, and then one day… you just… you wanted nothing to do with it anymore.”
“We were just talking, grandma. It was more about spending time together.”
Her grandma tilted her head. “It sure didn’t sound like that when we were planning things.”
“I was just a kid. Daydreaming. That’s all. I wanted to pursue photography. You know that.”
“I know.” She took a breath and let it out slowly. “But maybe it doesn’t have to be a daydream. A wedding venue would open plenty of opportunities to photograph. We’ve got wide open fields—I know you’d loved wandering off and taking pictures of wildlife.”
Flashes of memories played in Jo’s mind. More than once, she’d gone off on a Saturday, wandered all over the property, and down to the river it butted up against. She’d return to the house happy with a full memory card.
“Just think about it, sweetheart. Don’t shut your doors before you’ve looked around the room a little. You might find something you didn’t know was there.” She tapped the table, stood, and smiled down at Jo. “Keep an open mind while you’re here. You never know what might pop up.”
“Okay.” The word came out halfhearted.
Leaving the magazine felt like quitting or giving up. She’d worked so hard to move from being a lowly plebe to where she was, and the thought of picking up and leaving filled her with a level of disappointment she couldn’t describe.
