Chasing a Brighter Blue, page 6
Shelby led her between two trees, up above the trail. There were several boulders to choose from and she picked a flat one, facing the sun. But Reagan didn’t sit. She stood, her back to Shelby. Shelby waited patiently, letting Reagan decide the pace of their conversation.
Reagan finally turned, facing her. Shelby didn’t comment on the tears she saw in Reagan’s eyes.
“I owed Richard a favor. He wanted me to shoot for him in Afghanistan. He was doing a story on a village, on the civilians there.” She shrugged. “I followed him around, getting whatever I could. Some of the villagers, well, they weren’t exactly excited to have us there.”
Reagan moved closer and sat down beside her. It was a long moment before she spoke again.
“It was a British group, like I said. I was the only American. Richard was the only one I knew but after being there six months, we all became friends.”
Shelby sat silently, watching Reagan. She had a faraway look in her eyes, and Shelby knew, in her mind, Reagan was going back there.
“There was this kid. He was so cute. Couldn’t have been more than five, six at the most,” she said. “He’d come by all the time. We’d give him candy or whatever.” A smile lit her face. “He never spoke, we didn’t know his name. Cutest kid I’ve ever seen,” she said. “We called him George. Little George,” she said with another smile. “Don’t know where he lived or who his parents were. He always came alone.” She turned to her, her eyes swimming in tears. “Little George. I must have taken a thousand shots of him.” She looked away again. “One day, he came like usual, and I had my camera, like always.” She took a deep breath, then stood and moved away, pacing. “I’m just focusing on what my camera sees, nothing else. I’m capturing the scene, faces, people, Little George.” She turned, looking at her again. “A young man came up, grabbed George. He had a bomb strapped to him. I’m sure I knew what was happening. Surely to God I knew,” Reagan said, her voice cracking with emotion. “But I’m still holding my camera, shooting away. I sense Richard run to Little George, to try to help him. I could hear George screaming.” She balled her hands into fists, tears streaming down her cheeks freely now.
“And I’m still working the goddamn scene, still shooting away like nothing’s happening,” she said. “The bomb goes off and I still have my camera, I’m capturing it all. The blast knocked me off my feet, threw me twenty feet back.” She looked to the sky. “Only then did I put my camera down, only then did it register what had happened. Screams, crying, chaos. Little George, Richard…nothing much left of them. Twelve people killed, three from our group.” She hung her head. “I never even tried to help him, to help George. I couldn’t put my goddamn camera down. And now I can’t…pick it up again.”
Shelby got up then, moving closer. She touched Reagan’s arm, but Reagan flinched away from her.
“No. I don’t deserve to be comforted,” she said through her tears. “What kind of human being am I? Richard was my friend. George…George was an innocent little kid. And I did nothing to help him. I never once lowered my camera, never missed a shot.” She wiped her nose on the sleeve of her sweatshirt, but her tears never lessened.
Shelby tried again, lightly touching Reagan’s arm. This time, she did not pull away. “Reagan, all of that probably happened in a matter of seconds,” she said. “I can tell the guilt is eating you up, but if you’d tried to help, you’d be dead too.” she said quietly.
Reagan looked at her. “I know. But it was just human nature for Richard. He tried to help, not considering the consequences. And I did nothing,” she said again.
“You did what was instinctual for you,” Shelby said. “I know nothing of your work, only what Stephanie has told me, but I gather you’re very good at it. I don’t know anything about cameras or taking pictures, but I would imagine you did what comes natural to you.”
“Yeah. But what the hell does that say about me? It’s as if I cared more about getting the shot than I did about their wellbeing.”
“Is that true? Or were you simply focused on what you were doing? Maybe it didn’t really register with you what was happening,” she said. “Like I said, it probably only took a few seconds.”
Reagan nodded slowly. “Yes. I’ve reduced it to slow-motion, frame by frame,” she said quietly. “I try not to think about it, but I can’t help it sometimes.” She looked at her quickly. “I have dreams. Nightmares,” she said. “Sometimes in my dreams, I throw the camera down and run to George. I always get there right when the bomb goes off. Other times, I see myself standing at a distance, not watching through the camera at all, just watching it unfold in front of me, doing nothing.”
Shelby squeezed her arm. “Were you injured?”
Reagan shook her head. “Not really. A few scratches.” She blew out her breath. “I packed up my things, my cameras, and came back here. And now I can’t even think about holding a camera again.”
“Don’t you think you should talk to someone…a professional?”
“Yes. And they’ll tell me like you’ve told me—I shouldn’t feel guilty.” Reagan shrugged. “But I do.” She turned to her. “I’ve seen a lot of…of death. I’ve seen a lot of shit over the years,” she said. “This was the first time it was personal. I didn’t know Little George, yet I did. Richard, of course, we’d been friends for years.” She snapped her fingers together. “And they were gone just like that.” Tears came again. “And I captured it all. Frame by frame, right up to the explosion.”
“Why do you think the bomber grabbed Little George?”
Reagan met her eyes. “He didn’t want to die alone.”
“He was planning on killing others with the bomb though. He wouldn’t have really been alone,” she reasoned. “Maybe he knew him. Brother? Father?”
“I don’t think so. George was terrified.”
Shelby moved closer to her. “When did this happen, Reagan? How long have you lived with this?”
Reagan rubbed her eyes with both hands, drying her tears. She cleared her throat before speaking.
“It happened the last week in November,” she said. “I never told the authorities that I had any usable images. I couldn’t bear the thought of someone looking at them.” She shrugged. “We split up. They went back to London, I went home to the farm.”
“Did you know Richard’s family?”
“No. I mean, I knew of them, but I’d never met them. He had a wife, two kids,” she said.
“I’m so sorry, Reagan. I wish I knew what to say to ease your pain.” She let her hand slide down Reagan’s arm, to her hand, squeezing it gently. “Am I the first one you’ve told about this?”
Reagan nodded. “Yes. I don’t want to tell my family. I don’t want them to judge me for not taking action. It would disappoint them.”
“Oh, Reagan, you can’t possibly think that. You were so close to being a victim yourself.”
Reagan dropped her hand and took a step back. “Yeah. But I wasn’t. And I have a camera full of images to prove it.”
Chapter Ten
Reagan stood under the warm spray of water. Her shower long over, but it felt too good for her to want it to end. When they’d returned to Estes Park after their hike, she’d left Shelby in the lobby with a hasty “thank you” and fled to her room. She felt drained, both physically and emotionally. So she’d stripped off her clothes and climbed into bed, pulling the covers up tight, and fell into a surprisingly peaceful sleep.
Maybe talking to Shelby had been good for her after all. Hell, she hadn’t cried like that in more years than she could remember, if ever. Yes, she felt guilty. Yes, she felt sorrow. Had she truly even grieved yet or had she merely been wallowing in the guilt?
She finally turned off the water and stepped out, reaching for the thick towel to dry herself. If she was honest with herself, no, she hadn’t grieved. She’d pushed the images away, out of her mind, much like she’d done her camera…hidden away, out of sight.
She paused in her task, meeting her reflection in the mirror. If she had to do it over again, would she do it differently? Even if she hadn’t had a camera, would she really have chased after a man with a bomb? A man running with a little boy she didn’t really know?
She stared into her own eyes, seeing the truth there.
No.
And her tears came again, this time for her. Not for Richard. Not for Little George. She felt weak…cowardly. If she hadn’t had a camera, if she’d had time to take stock of the situation, she would have most likely run in the opposite direction of the bomb.
A coward.
She tossed her towel on the floor and headed back to the bed. She wanted to hide. Hide under the covers, hide from people…hide from herself.
She pulled the covers over her head, shutting out the light. The depression settled around her like a thick cloak, weighing heavy on her body…her mind, her soul.
She closed her eyes, but the images remained, playing over and over again in her mind. She curled into a tight ball, her tears turning to sobs in the quiet, lonely hotel room.
Chapter Eleven
Shelby glanced toward the entrance of the bar once again. She’d come down early, hoping Reagan would be there, but there’d been no sign of her. The group dinner was in an hour, and her mother had two vans waiting to take them to the steakhouse where she’d reserved the back room for the wedding party. Reagan had said that she planned to go, but after their hike—after their talk—Reagan had seemed even more distant than before. That haunted look in her eyes was more pronounced, overshadowing any semblance of light.
Maybe she shouldn’t have pushed Reagan to talk. It seemed to only have reinforced her guilt. It was as if Reagan took full responsibility for her friend’s death, which was absurd, given the details that Reagan had shared with her.
She sighed. It really wasn’t any of her business. She’d offered an ear to Reagan and that was it. There wasn’t anything more she could do.
“Figured I would find you here.”
Shelby turned, smiling as Stephanie sat down beside her. “Hi.”
“Where have you been all day? We had so much fun shopping,” Stephanie said.
“I went hiking down at Big Thompson Canyon,” she said. “I took Reagan along.”
Stephanie leaned closer. “You two sure seem to be getting along. Something I should know about?” she teased.
“Simply being friendly,” she said. “Nothing more.”
“Oh, and Doug said you told him you were gay.” She laughed. “He doesn’t believe you, of course, and he said he would spend the next week trying to, and I quote, ‘get some sugar’ from you. Beware of mistletoe.”
Shelby rolled her eyes. “Some sugar? God,” she groaned. “Who says that?”
“He’s quite taken by you, apparently. He said he loves it when women play hard to get.” She laughed again. “Josh and I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was true.”
“Thanks a lot,” she said dryly. “You’ll be lucky if I even stick around for the wedding.”
“Now that would push Mother over the edge.” Stephanie leaned closer again. “I bet Dad is thankful there was a problem in Aspen and he doesn’t have to be here. She would drive me crazy if I had to live with her every single day.”
Shelby knew all too well that the alleged problem in Aspen was only an excuse…but yes, her mother would drive her crazy as well. Actually, she found it amazing that they’d stayed married all these years. Neither she nor Stephanie would be surprised if he divorced her. She also wouldn’t be shocked if he was having an affair. She suspected that he was, based on his numerous absences, but her mother had never said one word to her that suggested she was aware of an affair.
“There was a problem, right?” Stephanie prompted.
Shelby looked at her. “What do you mean?”
“I know we’ve talked about this before, but do you think—”
“It’s none of our business, Steph,” she said.
“I can’t believe Mother doesn’t suspect,” she said, her voice low. “He’s never around anymore.”
“I know. But Mother lives in a different world, you know that.”
“Yes, she does.” Stephanie sighed. “Well, I’m not going to worry about it. Like you said, it’s none of our business.” She pointed at her empty glass. “Gin and tonic? I may join you for one.”
“Sure.” She got Zach’s attention and pointed at her glass and held up two fingers. “So where’s Josh?”
“Oh, he and Doug and two of their cousins were playing cards. He said it’s like a family reunion. He hadn’t seen Duke in nearly five years.” She laughed. “Don’t you just love that name? Duke?”
“For a Great Dane, sure.”
Stephanie laughed again. “Oh, I know. I thought it was a nickname, but Josh said it’s his given name. Duke,” she said again. “It kinda grows on you.”
“Speaking of cousins, have you spent any time with Holly?” She took the glass Zach placed in front of her. “Thanks.”
“Thank you, Zach,” Stephanie said. “She went shopping with us today. I think she thought Mother was going to pick up the tab for everyone’s shopping excursion. And frankly, I’m shocked that Mother didn’t,” she added with a laugh. “But it was fun. Holly’s sister Hannah is coming tomorrow. Her and her two kids. Her husband has to work this week but is coming on Sunday and staying through Christmas for the wedding.”
“Don’t you find it strange that they’re here?” she asked. “We haven’t seen them in years.”
Stephanie shrugged. “It’s a free vacation for them. Why wouldn’t they come?”
“That doesn’t bother you that they’re coming for the free room and meals and not for your wedding?”
“Like you said, we haven’t seen them in years. Whether they’re here or not, it makes no difference to me. Mother only invited them—like you said—to show off the hotel and her money.” She took a sip of her drink. “And if I ever get married again, please remind me of this chaos.”
“Saturday wedding in July. Just sayin’,” she said yet again. “And you and Josh are perfect for each other. If he can put up with you, that is,” she teased.
Stephanie sighed dreamily. “I really do love him. He is perfect, isn’t he?”
Shelby nodded. “As perfect as they come. For a man,” she added with a quick laugh.
Stephanie looked at her, her expression turning serious. “I really wish you could find someone. I wish you could find your Josh,” she said.
“I know. And someday I will. It’s not something I want to force, though. If it happens, it happens.” And honestly, that’s how she felt. She wasn’t lonely. She wasn’t concerned that she was over thirty and still single. She had a full life and she enjoyed spending time with her family and friends. Even those friends who continued to set her up on disastrous blind dates.
“Hey.”
The voice was quiet beside her and she turned, finding Reagan standing there. She searched her eyes, noting the puffiness. Had she been crying again? That thought made her heart break and she motioned to the chair beside her.
“Join us.”
“I’m not interrupting?”
“Oh, no,” Stephanie said. “Just chatting. You’re joining the group for dinner, right?”
“Yes. My parents want to go and I haven’t really spent much time with them.” She looked at Zach who was standing by patiently. “Scotch,” she said.
Shelby leaned closer to her, away from Stephanie. “You okay?” she whispered.
Their eyes held for a moment and Reagan nodded. “I guess. Thanks.”
Shelby reached over and squeezed Reagan’s thigh before she even realized what she was doing. She removed it just as quickly, embarrassed for touching her with a familiarity that they didn’t have. But it brought a smile to Reagan’s face so that was good, she thought.
“I understand Shelby made you go hiking with her,” Stephanie said.
“I did not make her,” Shelby protested.
“It was fun,” Reagan said. “Really, having those breakfast sandwiches made it worth it.”
“You took her to Dave’s? God, how can you eat that stuff? It’s so not good for you,” Stephanie said.
“Yeah, but it was so good,” Reagan countered.
Stephanie shook her head. “Oh, your mother joined us today,” she said. “She’s very sweet.” She lowered her voice. “Normal. Unlike you-know-who.”
Reagan laughed. “Yeah. I’ll give her that. So how did she and your mother get along? This wedding celebration is the first time they’ve met, right?”
Stephanie nodded. “Yes. And I suppose they got along fine. Mother was being her usual bossy self. I made Josh go with us, so that helped.”
“Speaking of you-know-who…” Shelby said, motioning to the entrance.
“There you girls are.” Their mother looked disapprovingly at them. “Isn’t it a little early to be drinking?”
“Never,” Shelby said with a smile. “We’re celebrating the wedding. Every hour, every day.”
“Well, you’ll have to make do with wine for dinner. I had several bottles brought in from your father’s collection.” She looked at Reagan. “He’s a collector of fine and rare vintage wines.” She paused. “Are you familiar with wine?”
“Mother,” Shelby warned.
“What? I’m merely asking.”
“I’m not a big wine drinker, no,” Reagan said. “But a sweet sangria goes down pretty good on a hot summer day.”
Her mother stared at Reagan blankly as if she’d uttered a blasphemy, and Shelby couldn’t contain her laughter. Reagan, too, sported a teasing smile. It was nice to see that the smile actually reached her eyes.
“Does Dad know you’ve snatched some of his wine?” Stephanie asked.
“He picked it out personally.” Their mother squared her shoulders. “We leave in five minutes. The vans are out front. I trust that Josh will make it on time?”
“I’ll call him,” Stephanie offered.
“Please do. I don’t want to keep the other guests waiting. How would that look?”
Reagan tossed back the last of her drink and Shelby did the same to hers. She loved her mother, she really did. But this extra-long wedding celebration was proving to be an exercise in patience. She no longer lived near her parents, but they had a standing dinner date twice a month. That was about the extent of her interaction with her mother. Her father, on the other hand, she saw daily at the office, unless it was during the months that she worked here at the hotel. She and her father were very much alike and got along wonderfully. She and her mother…not so much.
