Page 3 of Archer
“Maestro,” Ben said.
“Oh, I haven’t seen that one yet.” Not that I’d wanted to start it halfway through, but I’d deal with it if it meant my dad wasn’t lecturing me.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” Dad said.
Staring down at the ground, with my arms hanging by my sides, I pinched the material of my pants. “No, Dad. This is what I want.”
“Your mother and I didn’t work this hard to give you boys a future for you to throw it away with this nonsense.”
“Honey,” Mom said, jumping in. “Why don’t you change your clothes and join us?”
“Yeah, okay.” I appreciated her giving me a reason to leave the room. My brother frowned at me sadly as I shuffled away. We both knew what I was in for. The rest of the night would be spent either listening to my father give me his opinions or feeling his stony glare on me, which sucked. I wouldn’t argue or stick up for myself. I’d learned months ago that it wasn’t worth wasting my breath.
Chapter 2
Archer
Today had been as close to a perfect day as I could ever remember. I at least tried to take one day a week to wander around town with myNikon, taking pictures, and today had been exactly what I needed. I’d started out early so I could take advantage of that magical time right before sunrise.
I’d managed to get some beautiful shots in the park of the flowers and of the birds as they woke up with the sun. After that, I’d gone over to the local dog park, and after getting permission, I took some amazing photos of the dogs running around, living their best lives. Once I’d finished up there, I took my time wandering through the old part of town and taking pictures of anything that caught my eye.
For instance, I got a shot of a beautiful plant that was sitting on an interestingly shaped metal stand. Its strong green stalks and large leaves framed the abundant, vibrant blooms, but the eye-catching thing was the background. The robust, healthy plant was sitting in front of an older stucco building that wasn’t in the best of repair. The juxtaposition of the healthy, colorful plant against the large crack in the building behind it was going to make for a striking photo. I was sure of it.
After that, I went back to my studio to spend some time in the darkroom to develop the pictures. I’d been told time and time again that darkroom photography was a dead art and that I should go all digital. And for the most part, I had. All my wedding and studio photography were done digitally, but my true love was film. I loved the process of developing it, and there was an artistic quality to film photography that you just couldn’t duplicate with digital.
I stepped out of the darkroom where today’s photos were hanging to dry and headed over to Luxe for lunch. It was a small bistro in our condo building that had some of the best sandwiches in town.
“Hey, Archer,” Terrance greeted me from behind the counter. “You want your usual?”
I looked up at the menu board. I really should try something else for a change, but I thought that every time and didn’t. “Yeah, give me the salmon BLT and some chips.”
“You’ll be glad you made that choice. It’s especially delicious today.”
“It’s always good. That’s why I keep getting it.” It really was. I should know because I had it at least once a week, sometimes twice.
“I’ll bring it right out.”
I sat in the same place I always did as long as the table was empty, and it usually was. The windows that faced the outside of the building had a great view so that was normally where people chose to sit. I preferred the table by the entrance that was open to the old hotel lobby. It almost felt like I was still home, but someone else was doing the cooking.
Plus, from here, I could see the lobby walls. Hitch was nothing if not supportive, and he’d decorated the walls with a collection of my artwork. Each one was framed and ready for purchase. Those pieces were a constant reminder to me that while weddings and portrait photography might be my job, I truly was an artist.
I spent the rest of the afternoon in my studio editing the photos from what shall forever be known as the catfight wedding. I’d taken hundreds of photos that day, which was normal for me. Most of them the bride and groom would never see, so the first step was to go through and eliminate all the ones that weren’t worth keeping, and from there, I’d start the actual editing process.
While I worked, I kept an eye on the clock. I wanted to get in one more hour of shooting today. I planned to go out for the golden hour. It was the hour just before sunset, and the lighting was absolutely brilliant for that one sixty-minute span of time. I stopped in time to go upstairs to my condo and eat dinner because I only allowed myself one meal out a day.
My plan was to be in place ahead of time and to be ready for whatever presented itself. There was a creek that ran along the eastern side of town, and I wanted to be on the other side of it so I could see the sun’s reflection in the water. It was also the perfect time to catch shots of the local wildlife. The possibilities were endless, and I didn’t want to miss it.
When it was time to go, I hurried down the stairwell from my fifth-story condo to the landing on the second floor, and then I followed it around to the grand staircase that led to the lobby. I planned to go out through my studio so I could grab any equipment I needed.
As I cut across the lobby, I passed the yoga studio. I had no attention of looking in, after all, I was in a hurry, but the blinds were up, and damned if that adorable guy that had taken over the place wasn’t in there by himself.
He was bent over at the waist, hands on the floor. I needed to keep going. Not only was I on a deadline if I wanted to be in place on time, but it was just flat-out pervy for me to stand out here and watch him, even if the blinds were open. Then it hit me. Seriously, he really should close the blinds.
I glanced around the lobby to see who was around, but the place was empty. That didn’t change the fact that anyone could be here. The lobby was open to the public, and no one needed to know he was in there all alone at night. What was he thinking?
I stood there and watched, mesmerized as he gracefully bent his legs and lowered himself to the floor. Then he grabbed one leg and lifted it up over the opposite shoulder, which looked impossible enough in and of itself, but then he wrapped the other leg around that one and reached down with both arms and pushed his body up. It looked like all of him was tied in one huge knot that was being suspended in the air on two hands.
I itched to take a picture of him like that so I could study it later and figure out exactly how he did it and how I could unravel that knot. I didn’t, of course, because that would be an even bigger violation than me standing here watching him.