Page 92 of Somewhere Only We Know
“Atabloid, Jack?” my dad asked, disgust and disappointment wrapped up in that one word. He rubbed his hand over his eyes, not able to look at me.
Even though I didn’t work there anymore, I needed to defend myself. In the past, I had shrugged everything off, okay with lettingthem think I was some restless bozo. But it wasn’t accurate anymore. “Yeah, a tabloid. Because I was good at it.”
“Good at chasing famous people around?” my dad asked, throwing his hands up in exasperation.
My mom threw him alook. “Let him talk.” My dad shook his head but didn’t say anything.
I pushed my hair back from my face and stared down at the coffee table. “It was more than sneaking into places and getting what I needed from people. I was able to tell stories through photographs.”
I looked up at my parents then. “I want to study photography.”
My dad’s eyebrows came together, confused. “Well, yeah, Jack, we know you like photography. We didn’t spend all that money on your camera for nothing. But now you want to study it?”
“Yes,” I said quickly before I lost my nerve. “And I don’t onlylikephotography, I’m good at it, too.” There, I said it. There was something so vulnerable about claiming a passion, a skill. Even though I knew my photos were good, I had never felt comfortable in showing pride in my work. Until Lucky.
I kept talking. “I know it’s not practical, and you guys don’t approve. When I last mentioned it, you pretty much brushed off the idea. But I’m serious. I’ve had time to think about it. And I want to use my skills to do interesting work. Not chase after celebrities.”
There was silence and I glanced over at Ava, hoping for a friendly face. She smiled at me, still tugging on her braid. “You’re the best photographer I know,” she said, trying to be helpful.
I laughed nervously. “Um, thanks?”
“You are very good,” my mom finally said.
My eyes flew to her. “I am?”
Her expression softened. “Yes! Remember that year Ava’s school photos were so bad she cried for three whole days?”
Ava made a face. “Thanks for reminding me.”
“Well, Jack did a make-up session. Remember those photos?” my mom asked, her eyebrows raised. “He captured your essence.”
I did remember. I had spent an hour with Ava in the yard right before dusk, having her run around, hair flying. Then, in a moment of calm, when she finally caught her breath, I snapped a bunch of photos of her with a blissful and flushed expression on her face. The sunlight soft and warm on her skin as it sank behind the hills.
Relief spread through my body, my shoulders less tense. “Thanks, Mom.”
My dad’s silence was deafening. We all turned to him. My mom finally poked him in the ribs.
He cleared his throat. “I don’t know why you thought we didn’t want you to be a photographer. We were worried you didn’t want to doanything.”
I blinked. What?
“Please, Jack. Go for it. It’s why your mom and I doall of this.” He gestured toward the apartment. “I know you don’t want this exact life. That’s okay. I want you to have the lifeyouwant.”
The sincerity in his voice made me swallow hard, pushing down the lump in my throat.
“You got that?” he asked gruffly.
I nodded. “Yeah. And I’m sorry for slacking off so much with the bank, I—”
He shook his head. “I know you hate it. We wanted you to keep busy so that you wouldn’t become some backpacking hippie.”
I laughed. “What? Oh wait, you mean like Nikhil at the bank?”
My dad rolled his eyes. “Every rich boy and his backpacking trip of discovery.”
“Yeah, discovering theweed,” Ava said with a snort.
“Ava!” my parents admonished at the same time. Ava shrugged in response.
