He picked up his soda can and drank, carefully watching her over the top as he considered his next words. He lowered the can. “The anger is normal and I promise it will pass.”
“I find that hard to believe. I’m always angry. Really, really angry.”
“I know you are.”
Her eyes glazed with unshed tears. “I don’t want to be this way, but I have no idea what to do if I’m not angry. Does that make me crazy?”
“No, it makes you human. Anger is a normal stage of grief, Iz. Don’t give yourself a hard time about it, but at the same time, don’t choose to stay in the anger either. You have to fight it or the grief will win.”
“And you fought back by signing up to be a firefighter?”
“In a way, yes. I wanted to do something to vent my frustration. What better way than fighting the thing that killed Aimee?”
She stared at him, her eyes sad, before she nodded and looked back to her food.
When it seemed she wasn’t going to say anything else, Trent shifted his gaze to the studio walls. The difference in the images on display was as devastating as Izzy’s grief. Cowden Beach, the sea dark, waves crashing, its sands empty of people. He continued to scan the walls, disappointment and helplessness twisting inside. Where were her previous images? The ones full of light, color, romance and fun.
It was clear to see that the images Izzy saw through the lens lately were heartbreakingly different than when Robbie had been alive.
“You need to change your focus.” He ate another bit of fish and purposely continued to stare around the room. “You’ve decided to show Templeton in a completely different light than you ever have before.” He looked at her bowed head as she pushed her food around on the paper. She’d barely eaten any chips, her battered fish untouched. “Is this how you feel?”
She lifted her head, her cold gaze showing she was once again trying to shut him out. “I look through my lens and photograph what I see. I can’t help what’s there.”
“That’s not true and you know it.” He put down his fork. “Your work has never been about what’s in front of you. You can make anything look beautiful. No, mesmerizing, heart-wrenching, yet hopeful. Do you know why? Because that’s who you are. Inside.”
Color tinged her cheeks. “Who I was. Not who am I anymore.”
“It’s a choice, Iz. You can be happy again if that’s what you want to be. Believe me, you might have to force it sometimes, but happiness is out there. You just have to be willing to open up to it.”
“And I guess you’re going to say my happiness could be you? It’s you who will make me happy?”
He swallowed. Apparently, she thought he was that arrogant. “No, not necessarily.”
“I want to be happy, but it’s going to take time.” Her voice softened. “I know you understand...now I know about Aimee.”
“But?”
“But what?” She focused on her food and put another chip into her mouth.
“There’s a but in there somewhere. You aren’t just avoiding me. You’re avoiding life or having fun, and that has nothing to do with me being a firefighter. You need to force yourself to get out there. Eventually, it won’t feel as hard as it does right now.”
“I’m trying.” She gave a wry smile. “I even ventured out of the Cove last week and met with the celebrity Kate wants to front the calendar. He arrives tomorrow.” She ate another chip, took a drink of her soda. “I just hope he doesn’t arrive with an entourage, expecting me to wait on him and them hand and foot.”
The change in subject was obvious, but he wouldn’t push her. “Who is he?”
“Richard Crawley.”
Trent stopped, a chip midway to his mouth. “The game show host? Wow, Kate’s outdone herself once again. I always got the impression the guy was too far up his own ass to give a crap about anyone else. Kid or no kid.”
She smiled softly. “Well, whether or not that’s true, only time will tell. All I know is he seems okay as far as celebrities go. Whether he’ll go for Kate’s idea of stripping off for the calendar remains to be seen.”
“If she convinced me and the rest of the crew to do it, I’m sure she’ll convince a celebrity who lives for the limelight.”
“I suppose so.”
The dejection had returned once more to her tone, and Trent gazed around the studio walls a second time. “You know, I heard a rumor there’s a gallery opening in Templeton in the new year. It would be pretty fantastic if you could get your pictures exhibited there.”
“A gallery? Here in the Cove?”
He met her gaze. “Marian told me.”
“Well, if Marian told you...”
“Exactly. Nothing passes her without being sanctioned and verified. You should go into the bakery and speak to her. She’ll tell you all about it.”
“I don’t know if I’m interested, to be honest.”
Concern flooded through Trent, heavier and darker than before. “News of a gallery opening in Templeton would’ve had you flying off that seat and making plans before Robbie died.” He reached for her hand where it lay on the worktop and squeezed her fingers. “This could be the next step for you. Who knows what opportunities having your work shown in a gallery could do for your career? Jay Garrett’s financing the whole thing as far as I know. Bringing in someone who knows what they’re doing to run the place.”
Skepticism darkened her gaze. “And what does Jay Garrett know about art?”
“He’s Templeton’s richest resident. What does it matter what he knows? As long as he believes in it...in you...that’s all that matters. Having said that...” He took a deep breath and braced himself for the onslaught that was sure to follow. “I don’t think these pictures are going to sell to the tourists, rich or poor, who come to Templeton, do you?”
“Jeez, who died and made you art critic of the year?” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I can’t believe I just said that. I didn’t mean to talk about dying when—”
“Hey. It’s all right.” Trent stood, came around the workstation and took her hands. “Why don’t you speak to Jay? Having something new to focus on will help. Believe me.”
She nodded. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”
“Good.” He ran his gaze over her face. “Let me help you through this, Iz. I’m here for you. Even if it’s only as a friend if that’s what you want.”
She slipped her hands from his and put them in her lap. “Friendship is all I can handle. Anything else is too much right now.”
“Fine, I’ll back off, but promise me you’ll think about the gallery. Your work is too good not to be seen and noticed. Too good to stay in this studio and the homes of the locals. You’ve got talent, Iz. Use it to get you out of this dark place you’re in before it’s too late.”
“I will. I promise.”
He pushed his hands into his pockets, relieved he’d broken partway through her defenses. “So, what was it you wanted to show me?”
She closed her eyes and huffed a laugh before opening them again. “I wanted your opinion on my latest collection.”
“Your latest collect...” He grimaced. “And that will be the pictures I just basically told you I hated, right?”
She smiled. “Right.”
* * *
IZZY TOOK A DEEP BREATH as she approached the opulent