During my lunch hour, I make a quick trip to Rosemary’s to pick up some cookies for practice this afternoon. I would have made them myself, but I don’t have any baking sheets yet. Apparently, I’ve been too busy adding to my lamp collection. I now have ten, which is ridiculous, I know. The thing is, I love them all.
When I was in high school, my basketball coach brought in treats every Friday and served them halfway through practice. It was a chance for the team to take a break and bond. Sometimes we talked about basketball, but a lot of the time we just chatted about life stuff. I want my team to have the same opportunity. Especially in light of people finding out about Margie’s pregnancy.
Downtown is busy, so I park about a block away from my destination. While hoofing down Main Street, I notice a sandwich board sign on the sidewalk that stops me dead in my tracks. It’s an advertisement for the photography studio and it stars … wait for it … my parents.
Even though the image is only from the shoulders up, I can clearly see my mom is wearing a rather seductive negligee. Myfather is bare chested. I stare in horror that my parents have not only had boudoir shots taken, but they’ve allowed the photographer to use them to advertise. At least, I assume they got permission.
Picking up the sign, I storm through the doors of Happy Snaps. The pretty blonde woman behind the counter looks at her sign and greets, “Hello! Are you looking to have some sexy pictures taken?”
God forbid.But I don’t say that out loud. Instead, I tell her, “I don’t think this couple knows you’re using their picture like this. I don’t think they would approve.”
“Margaret and Bob are regulars,” she says with a wink. “They signed a release form.”
Margaret and Bob?She knows them by their first names? What in the world is going on here?
“They’ve been coming in ever since I opened,” she tells me.
“How long has that been?” I ask. I know the shop has been around at least for the year that I’ve been home, but I don’t remember it from before then.
“Three years,” she tells me proudly.
“My parents have had pictures like this taken for three years?” Shock does not begin to cover the horror I’m currently experiencing. These are not the parents I thought I knew. Not by a long shot.
“Your parents?” she asks excitedly. “You must be Allie!”Terrific, they’re telling strangers about me.Before I can confirm her suspicions, she says, “I’m so sorry to hear about Brett. What a loser.”
“My mom and dad told you about Brett?” Who are these people and what have they done with my real parents?
She leans across the counter. “Your mom showed me the photos on Facebook.” With a scoff, she adds, “Imagine, four babies at once!”
I suddenly feel like I’m floating somewhere around the ceiling watching this horrible scene from a movie camera’sperspective. “Yes,” I manage to utter. “It must be a real challenge.”
“I’m Finley, by the way. Finley Harper.” She sounds so nonchalant, like she doesn’t think it’s odd to be having such a personal conversation with a total stranger. Like it’s normal for her to know all about me with me being none the wiser.
“Allie,” I tell her. “But you already know that …”
“I recognize you from Rosemary’s,” she says. “I just never knew you were Bob and Margaret’s daughter.”
I can’t help but wonder why my parents would tell a total stranger my most personal secrets but never bother to mention something as benign as where I worked. That’s when it hits me. They didn’t want Finley to give awaytheirsecret.
“I don’t work there anymore,” I tell her. “I’m teaching at the high school now.”
“I suppose that means you must be healing. Good for you!”
“Why would it mean that?” My parents have no discretion whatsoever.
“Your mom said that Rosemary’s was only temporary until you got over your broken heart. Although, she seemed to think once that happened you’d be leaving Elk Lake.”
“Finley …” I’m not quite sure how to continue. She stares at me with large expectant green eyes. “This is kind of strange. I mean, you seem to know a lot about me, but I don’t know anything about you.”
“I’m Finley Harper.” Then like a contestant introducing herself onThe Price is Right, she says, “I grew up in Central Illinois, I went to the University of Illinois—Go Illini!” She raises both hands in the air like she’s wielding invisible pompoms. “I fell in love with photography but got sick of taking pictures of corn fields, so I started taking pictures of people and here I am!”
“How did you wind up in Elk Lake?”
“My family used to vacation here in the summer, and I loved it. I thought if I ever left Illinois, I’d want to live here.” She gestures around her before declaring, “And here I am!”
I like this woman in spite of the fact that she’s been taking borderline dirty pictures of my parents. She’s bubbly and sweet. Although I’m having a hard time getting past how much she knows about me. “Well, good for you,” I tell her. “Elk Lake is a nice town.”
“Do you think you’ll be staying?” she asks expectantly.
