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“No,” she said, simply. “Never. But I guess I’m settled after all.”
There was a story there. Grace could feel it, swelling beneath the surface, but Eve didn’t so much as offer a glance of warning. She just stared straight ahead at the road, her hands loose and relaxed on the steering wheel. Whatever it was, Eve had no urge to share it. No need to get it out. She kept it close on purpose.
She’d meant to move on and she’d never left, and now she was settled by default. Grace wouldn’t make that same mistake.
“I’ve got a makeup gig in Vancouver,” she said. “In five weeks. The local film industry is pretty vibrant.”
“You know people there?”
“No. No one. Someone called a friend and set up this job. I don’t actually have anyone there.” Which was just the way she wanted it. “I thought, if everything works out well between us while I’m here, could I use you as a reference? I might look into working with a scout. It’s been really interesting. I think being in a trailer all day makes me grumpy.”
Eve laughed. “I can imagine. You’re quick. I think you thrive on action.”
“Maybe,” she said, realizing it was true even as she spoke. She was good at makeup. She was great with it. But maybe that wasn’t the only important thing.
“Definitely,” Eve said. “I can tell, because I’d much rather be locked up in my office, working on proofs.”
“Huh.” How had she never considered this before? That maybe her gift was a curse, keeping her locked in a small trailer for weeks at a time, in close proximity to the exact types of people she liked least. The production team was one thing. Some assistants and creative types were hard to deal with, but the equipment guys and preproduction crew were as varied as any other population. But in the trailer, it was the talent and the bigwigs, and the gossipy types that made them all beautiful. Sometimes she felt as if she was going to explode. Sometimes she did.
But this work, being outside, working with locals and
the people who did the strong work on the set—it felt so much more natural. Maybe she’d just have to work her makeup skills on friends and extras.
“You think I could do this? Every day?” she asked Eve.
“Absolutely. You seem very sure of yourself. People like that. Of course, if you go to Vancouver, you’ll have to work your way up the totem pole. It could be lean for a couple of years.”
“I think I can handle that.”
“I bet you can.”
“Did you always know you wanted to be a photographer?”
Eve smiled and shook her head. “No. I played at it for a while, but I majored in business in college. I figured photography wasn’t a real job—it was a hobby. But after college, I wasn’t very inspired by my life. I worked in real estate, then banking. When my company was bought out, I was laid off, and I decided I needed to take a little time to figure things out.”
“And you ended up here? I always thought people went to L.A., but maybe Jackson is the second stop on the road of confusion.”
Eve laughed. “Maybe.”
“So what happened?”
“I got a job at an art gallery here in town. It’s gone now. The owners moved away. But one of them was a photographer. He convinced me I had real skill and I deserved to give myself a chance to do something I loved.”
“And you did it. That’s pretty amazing.”
She nodded. “I did it.”
“So you’re happy you stayed?”
“Yes,” Eve answered. “I’m happy.” But her words were stiff with logic instead of light with joy. Did she wish she’d moved on? Was her gift also a curse?
Grace was thinking about asking more, but Eve leaned over and turned up the music, though she smiled as if to prove she wasn’t trying to avoid the conversation. She needn’t have bothered. Grace could respect a woman who liked to keep her problems to herself. She’d never understood people who wore their pain like a medal, showing it off to anyone who met their eyes. How could you want people to know your hurt? That only taught them what your weak spots were. Why not just draw an X over your heart and ask the world to take its best shot?
So Grace let the music fill the car and watched the mountains slide past as they drove toward the narrow dirt road that led to the river. She watched the sky, and just like magic, the clouds eventually slid on after only the sparest of rain showers. Their departure revealed a painfully blue sky, surrounded by the dark horizon of the storm.
God, the place really was beautiful. The whole valley of Jackson Hole was just one amazing sight after another. She wondered what it would look like in winter when it was deep under snow and frozen through. Beautiful and frighteningly stark, she imagined. She’d seen snow, but she’d never lived in it. How strange to have to bundle up and dare the ice every single day.
She supposed she’d find out in Vancouver, but it wouldn’t be like this: isolated and brutal. Maybe she’d come back in the winter sometime to visit. To see people who could’ve been old friends if she’d stayed long enough. Maybe even hook up with Cole if they were both unattached.
