“Do you not care for red velvet cake, dear?” his mom asked.
“I do like it, but I’m afraid cake isn’t in the cards for me right now.”
“She has a modeling job next week,” Shannon explained.
“As soon as I get back, Jennifer better look out, though. I’ll probably be tasting everything she makes.”
“How did you get started modeling?”
“It’s kind of a funny story. I was out shopping with my mom at one of the big department stores in Manhattan, and a person who worked there asked if I’d like to help out with their runway show that afternoon. I didn’t want to, but my mom thought it sounded like fun for me—especially when they offered to give me one of the items from the show for fifty percent off.”
Gunnar leaned closer. He was as interested as his mother.
“I got there early and was nervous about what to do, but one of the real models just said to have a good time since I wasn’t a professional or anything,” Kimber continued. “So that’s what I did. I think I did everything I wasn’t supposed to. But it must have been enough, because next thing I knew I was signed up with a modeling agency and had two shows booked.”
“And the rest is history?” his mother asked.
“Yes. Well, pretty much. I guess I was in the right place at the right time.”
Shannon looked at her fondly. “Kimber’s far too modest. I have a feeling she built a career out of tenaciousness and hard work. She’s pretty special.”
“Not that she’s biased or anything,” Kimber joked.
His mother looked positively smitten. “Well, I’m going to have to go see if I can google some of your magazine covers. I can’t wait to tell everyone back home that our Gunnar is dating a real, live cover model.”
Gunnar groaned. “Ma, stop.”
Kimber laughed. “You’re making me feel good, but I’m not just being modest. Whatever success I’ve had is really due to a whole lot of luck. I was blessed with good genes, I happen to photograph well, and was at the right place at the right time.”
From the other side of the table, Shannon raised her eyebrows at Gunnar.
He winked. Kimber could deny it until the cows came home, but he was pretty sure there was a whole lot more to her successful career than luck.
Looking even more flustered, Kimber asked, “Can we please talk about something else now? How’s that cake?”
“Amazing,” Shannon said. “I swear, sometimes I think Jennifer could make a gourmet meal out of any five things in this house. I see nothing. She sees possibilities.”
“I’m just glad that I have all of you to experiment on,” she quipped.
“You know, I do think Shannon did make a good point,” his mother said. “That’s how life is. It’s all about who sees nothing and who sees possibilities.” Smiling at Kimber, she said, “I’ve always been fond of the possibility side of life, myself.”
Reaching for his mom’s hand, Gunnar gently squeezed. “Me too, Mama.”
CHAPTER 19
“Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist.”
—from an editorial in the new york sun, 1897
She was three days away from her trip to New York. Almost unconsciously, Kimber had fallen back into her former routine, preparing for the upcoming days like an athlete might prepare for a sporting event.
She’d begun sleeping as much as she could, following a strict diet, and drinking lots of her favorite Vitamin Water. After a day of protest, her body had accepted the changes and seemed to be taking it all in stride.
Ironically, it was the rest of her life that she was having a difficult time getting back on track. The fact was, ever since she’d accepted the job, her quiet Bridgeport life had turned on its side. Her model friends had come back out of the woodwork and were reaching out to make plans. Brett was texting constant updates, and both the designer and the merchandiser had called for more information. Even one of the seamstresses had emailed to make sure her measurements hadn’t changed in the last three months. She’d experienced a moment of panic when she’d asked Gwen to help with the measuring tape.
All of the attention and stress wasn’t a surprise, and part of it actually made her feel good. It was nice to know that she was still wanted and that she had been missed.
For a few hours, Kimber had actually contemplated what her life would be like if she started saying yes to Brett again.
But on the heels of all that satisfaction came a curiously empty feeling. The money and the stress and her former life wasn’t what she wanted anymore.
It was just too bad that she was feeling like a woman in limbo. She wasn’t excited about her chosen profession, and she was at a loss about what to do with her future.
Feeling like she was going to crawl out of her skin or she start screaming, Kimber went downstairs to Shannon’s dance studio.
Twelve little girls, all dressed up in black leotards, pink tights, and pink ballet slippers were lined up against the wall. Shannon was standing in front of them holding up a small white tulle tutu and talking very seriously.
Boy, they were adorable. After smiling at them for a moment, Kimber scanned the rest of the room. And had to stifle a gasp.
The whole area by Shannon’s storage closet was covered in small wooden nutcrackers. There had to be at least two dozen of them spilling out of the closet and onto the floor. She shook her head. Shannon was one beautiful dancer and one heck of a mess.
Unable to help herself, she walked over and picked one up. It was a beautiful thing, all gold and white and adorned with fake jewels and goose down. One of his shiny black boots had been scratched, though. Placing him carefully against the wall, Kimber sighed. These tiny works of art should have been wrapped in tissue paper and carefully stored in boxes. Not tossed into a sack like yesterday’s trash.
At least her mood had brightened. Now she had a plan for the day—to save those poor little guys and find a far better way to store them.
“Who are you?” a little voice asked.
She turned and felt herself blush as all the girls as well as Shannon were staring at her. She straightened. “I’m Kimber. Who are you?”
“Erin.”
Erin was wearing a shiny pink little skirt around her black leotard. She was also staring at Kimber expectantly.
Feeling a little whimsical, Kimber half-curtsied. “Miss Erin, it’s nice to meet you.”
Erin smiled big enough to show that she was missing a front tooth.
“I’m Alison,” a little dark-haired girl next to Erin declared.