Read Just North of Bliss for Free Online Page B

Richmond looked uncertain and slightly confused,
as if he didn’t know whether or not blowing his top would be
appropriate.
    Win might have anticipated Miss Monroe’s
reaction, too, if he’d been thinking about it. He hadn’t been. He’d
merely assumed that any pretty young woman would love to have her
pictures plastered all over the United States, particularly since
she was going to be held up to all who viewed the studies as a
superior example of American womanhood. He had not anticipated her
reaction, however, and both she and his lack of foresight annoyed
him.
    “ What ?” Her shriek caused all other
diners to turn in their chairs and glance at their table. Win
didn’t mind the surprised scrutiny particularly, since he’d never
been averse to public interest in himself or his work. Miss Monroe
turned apple-red.
    He tried to hide his exasperation. “You are
the one I first saw walking with the children, Miss Monroe, if
you’ll recall. It was the three of you as a unit that prompted my
initial inspiration.”
    She flapped her small gloved hands in the
air. Win got the impression she was hoping in this way to stir up a
coherent explanation for what Win considered a unreasonable degree
of apprehension. Dash it, it wasn’t as if he aimed to ravish her.
Besides, even if he’d like to do such a thing, he couldn’t. Not
with two little kids hanging around.
    “But—but—but, I thought you only wanted the
children,” she stammered at last. “I had no idea you wanted to
photograph me !” She pointed at her bosom, as if she hoped
Win had mistaken her for someone else.
    He shrugged. “I saw the three of you walking
along the Midway and knew it had to be that particular trio.”
Because he figured the children’s parents would need a good deal of
mollification, he turned to them and smiled one of his
prize-winning smiles. “You see, it’s an odd thing about
photography—or any art form, I suppose. Sometimes, while a family
will be a perfect, congenial, cohesive group in person, they won’t
photograph that way together. The combination of Miss Monroe and
Master Garrett and Miss Amalie captures something—something . . .”
He paused to suck in air and try to find the right words.
    Miss Monroe uttered an unintelligible
squeak. Win paid her no mind. She could berate him later, after
he’d won the approval of the Richmonds to his proposed project.
    Win finally settled for saying, “The
combination of your charming children and Miss Monroe practically
announces perfect, happy family to the viewing public in
America.”
    Mr. Richmond frowned. “And my wife and
children and I, together, don’t do that? I’m not quite sure I
understand, Mr. Asher.”
    He understood, all right. He just didn’t
want to admit it. Even though trying to convince folks that he was
the artist and they were mere subjects was Win’s least favorite
part of his photography business—aside from dealing with squirming
brats and their mothers—Win held onto his temper and tried more
persuasion. He plastered on the charm. “Of course you present the
image of a happy family, Mr. Richmond.” He added a rich chuckle to
oil the gears. “Anyone looking at you can tell you have been
blessed by our Maker with a successful life together.”
    Mr. Richmond expelled a self-satisfied
grunting sound. It encouraged Win, so he kept talking, throwing a
smile in Mrs. Richmond’s direction every now and then to let her
know she was important, too, even though she really wasn’t. The
only important people at this particular table were Win himself,
the kids, and Miss Monroe, if he were to make his vision come to
life.
    “It’s the composition of the work and its
presentation that immediately struck me when I saw your children
and Miss Monroe together.” Another thought attacked him, and he’d
have slapped himself on the forehead with the palm of his hand for
not thinking of it before if he wasn’t in a public place. But it
was clear that he ought to