“There he is,” Mom cried, “I was beginning to worry. You missed dinner.”
“I’ll make a sandwich,” I said.
Dad sat in his recliner reading the newspaper. It was one of three he read every evening. I didn’t care much for the limited photos and strange print of newsletter ink muting their colors.
“I can make you some pasta,” Mom offered. “Whip up some Alfredo sauce and chicken.”
I frowned.
“Mariah, let the boy have a sandwich,” My dad instructed. The paper didn’t move, but my mom stared at him for a moment before looking back at me.
“I’d prefer a sandwich,” I offered.
“Can I toast it?”
“Sure.” Whatever made her happy. She assembled something and warmed it, to melt the cheese and toast the outside. I sat down at the counter island and waited. Mom had this thing about making sure I ate. Probably because I forgot sometimes.
I set the camera bag on the counter and Patty opened it to pull out my camera, sliding through the digital viewer. “Love this one,” she said after a moment, showing the picture of Cherry grasping the strawberry with wide eyes like the hamster couldn’t believe her good fortune. “Adorable.”
Mom set the sandwich in front of me, cut into triangles. I picked up a slice and ate from the center, watching my aunt scroll through my work.
“He’s got a great eye for character,” Aunt Patty remarked.
My little brother James walked into the room and smacked me on the back of the head. “Torrance,” he grumbled in annoyance, like me being in his space bothered him. He was a freshman, and I was a junior at the same private school. We didn’t cross paths often in school, and I was okay with that. He was a jock, already on the football team, bigger than me, and never let me forget it.
“Jameson, don’t hit your brother,” Mom scolded. I rubbed my head.
“At least I wasn’t named after a romance novel character,” James teased. His hit hadn’t been more than a tap to get my attention. For all his crap, James never let anyone bother me, even his jock friends who thought I was small and nerdy and made a good target.
“No, you were named after cheap liquor,” I said recalling a fact Jenny had told me.
“Not cheap,” Dad said. “Jameson is quality stuff. And not cheap.”
“Hey, Aunt P,” James said. He leaned over to give her a kiss. “How’s my favorite aunt? Photographing any hot girls I should know about? I could play the assistant this weekend instead of Tory.”
“I’m your only aunt, and you’d be bored in a half an hour of playing fetch.” She gave him a quick hug anyway.
James shrugged. “Pictures are nice. But I’d rather be playing football.” He looked at mom, “Can I have a sandwich too?”
“You sure, sweetie? I can make you something like pizza or chicken—”
“Sandwich,” my dad said in his chair. Mom always went sort of over-the-top with worrying about us. Dad tried to keep her in check. Mom patted James on the head and set about making him a sandwich. James ate the leftover crust from mine while he waited.
Patty got up. “See you tomorrow, Tory. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“Okay,” I told her and let her hug me. Hugs always felt a bit strained, like I wasn’t sure what to do or how to hug, but I’d never been all that touchy feely.
Patty left, and James got his sandwich. I picked up my camera and brought it to my room to charge. It was after eight, still early, so I sat down with my laptop and began cleaning up photos, organizing them and posting them to Instagram, Facebook, and my DeviantArt portfolio. The new Cherry photo getting likes almost instantly.
I smiled. Flipping back through my gallery, all my pictures were of animals, flowers, or other people. Nothing of me. The selfie thing wasn’t something I did. My avatar was a picture I’d taken of the neighbor’s two-year-old catching a soap bubble. The bubble in rainbow oil slick shades and background black and white. It was one of my favorites, and one Aunt Patty had gushed over for a while. I spent a lot of time editing photos, but the better I got at taking them, the less filters I needed.
The clock flipped to ten. I shut down the computer and got ready for bed, the coming day and prospect of cameras, lights, and endless photos, exciting. What sort of magic shots would I see? I pulled the blanket over my head and tried to sleep.
