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She nods. “I took all of them.”
Silence settles over the apartment as the other guests listen in.
Mrs. Sweeney is the first to pipe up. “You’re a brilliant photographer, Calliope. The one of the Empire State Building with the full moon as its backdrop is simply beautiful.”
“I can get you a print of that one if you’d like.”
“I’d like that very much,” Mrs. Sweeney responds to Champ. “How much, dear?”
A bubble of laughter escapes Calliope. “No charge. They are only a few dollars.”
“If you handle arranging framing of the one I want and you sign it, I’ll pay five hundred,” Mr. Durkman injects himself back into the conversation.
“Five hundred dollars?” Champ shakes her head. “No. I can’t accept that.”
“I’ll pay a thousand for mine.” Mrs. Sweeney one-ups our neighbor. “I’ve paid twice that for some of the photographs in my apartment. Not one is as beautiful as that one.”
Calliope’s gaze jumps to my face. I see something that I can only label as shock there.
I’d outbid everyone and offer one hundred thousand for the lot, but that would tarnish this moment for her.
Her bottom lip quivers as she glances at Mrs. Sweeney. “I can’t accept that much.”
“You can and you will,” she insists. “There’s a beautiful little tea store that my grandmother used to own. It’s in Brooklyn. Multi-colored lights rim the windowsills. It’s a dream to see in the evening when the sun is about to set. I’d love a photograph like that. It would be a treasure. Can I commission that?”
Calliope swallows hard. “I would love to take a picture like that for you, but I don’t have a camera right now.”
“That’s a shame.” Mrs. Sweeney’s hand darts to her chest. “Did your camera break, dear?”
She shakes her head slightly. “I sold it.”
That admission slays me. I drop my head because I’ve witnessed how hard she works. There’s no doubt in my mind that she sold that camera because she needed the money. She needed it for her goal.
Freedom.That one word has haunted me since she first said it.
An alarm sounds in the distance. Calliope glances toward the kitchen. “The garlic bread is done. I need to get that out of the oven before it burns.”
I reach for her shaking hand. “I’ll help.”
She squeezes my fingers. “I just need a minute to catch my breath.”
“Of course,” I whisper.
I stand in place watching her walk away, wishing I could chase after her, gather her into my arms, and never let her go.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Callie
I turnafter closing my apartment door to find Sean in front of my photographs. This is our first moment alone since he arrived at my apartment.
“I didn’t get a chance to thank you for the basket of pears.”
That turns him around to face me. “They’re your favorite. I’m hoping that I can feed you pieces of one later.”
I start walking toward him. “I think that can be arranged.”
The corners of his lips twitch, but they fall before he can form a smile. I know something is bothering him.
