There had always been something about the sound of the shutter clicking in her ears that Christina found satisfying. Like invisible hash marks piling up on a crisp white sheet of paper, they counted the progress of her day as she captured the life before her. She didn't worry about getting people to sign waivers or asking permission. This was just for her.
She had run, far and fast, after the reviews from her last show. It had been mortifying to be called derivative and spiteful. She'd spent a year in Eastern Europe taking washed out pictures of crumbling buildings and abandoned playgrounds. She thought maybe later she could call it her "colorless period." It had a ring to it, something deep and sad she was sure the art world could appreciate. A tingle of satisfaction zipped up her slender spine each time she hung a photo up to dry. It would definitely be her comeback.
She was taking a break from working her way through the negatives. Back in New York again, colorful life just begged her to take her camera out to the streets. She drifted through tall buildings and the cacophony of traffic, trying to reconnect with the city that rejected her. After spending so long wandering in abandoned European ghettos, the thrum of life here was like electricity on her skin, the shutter clicking at breakneck speed.
So absorbed was she, that it barely even registered when she started walking through an all too familiar part of town. When the elegant facade was framed in the viewfinder, her eyes widened in surprise, lowering the camera without taking a picture. She stood dumbstruck staring at the stoop as strangers went in and out of the building. An almost inaudible voice in her head told her to leave before she saw the face she was waiting for, but it was easy to ignore.
She waited, looking somewhat psychotic as she stood on the other side of the street, half hiding behind the trunk of a tree. Women of all shapes, sizes and colors drifted through the big double doors, making their way down the concrete steps. Christina felt a little flutter of expectation when she saw the muddled form of a male behind the foggy glass, but it was only the tall British partner Danny had barely introduced her to.
She couldn't say why she was waiting for Danny, or what she expected to happen when he stepped out into the sunlight. They were done with each other, their relationship nothing but an emptied film canister, filled to the brim with useless odds and ends. Their last attempt at reconciliation still made her seethe. He hadn't even tried.
Just as she was about to give up and turn away, and explosion of sound and color burst through the building's doors. Mindy Lahiri, in all of her brash glory stomped down the steps, her neon pink duster fluttering out behind her as she maneuvered her way down to the street.
Christina's eyes widened in surprise, lighting on the huge swell of Mindy's distended stomach. This hopeless headcase was pregnant? She said a silent prayer for the world at large, and even whispered an audible one for the poor sap who'd fathered the child, tiptoeing out from behind the tree. Camera raised once again, the shutter began to click at even intervals.
She followed Mindy to the end of the block, wondering at the waddling woman's insistence on wearing four inch heels during what was clearly her third trimester. Mindy's first stop was a frozen yogurt shop, coming out in mere minutes, hands full of tiny sample cups. Slowly but surely, Mindy made her way down the second block, tossing the debris of her frozen yogurt foray into the nearest bin.
It was only when Mindy ducked into Danny's favorite sports memorabilia store that Christina paused, a cold thrill of premonition coursing through her. It was Danny's birthday, and she had rifled through so many receipts from this place, trying to do their taxes before the split. Mindy was buying him a gift? Mindy and Danny had always had a strange relationship.
She'd questioned him about it many times, scanning his features for tell tale twitches when he said his colleague's name. She'd been so sure something had been going on between them. Their last fight had ended in a Mindy-related screaming match, him ducking out the door to attend his friend's last minute wedding while she angrily tossed lavender scented letters all over their living room.
Maybe the tall blonde giant was the father of this neon clad bump. Christina shuddered. The thought of the a tiny woman pushing out a potentially gargantuan child made her cringe. It was strange that Mindy would be buying Danny such a thoughtful birthday present when she had a husband and kid on the way. Surely a Starbucks gift card would have been sufficient for a coworker.
Christina continued to snap pictures, like a private investigator tailing a known criminal through the gritty streets of New York. She zoomed in on the package in Mindy's manicured hands, trying to figure out exactly what it was. It was wrapped in dark blue paper, silver ribbon threaded across the box's smooth surface. It was only then that she noticed there was no wedding ring on the tiny brown hands holding the box.
They were almost back to the practice, a sense of dread building in Christina, making her stomach swirl with barely concealed ire. She watched Mindy struggle back up the steps and into the building, secretly hoping the ditzy brunette would take a tumble in her ridiculous heels.
The bench was cold as she plopped down onto it, setting her camera down beside her. There was no way in hell she was leaving until her suspicions were confirmed. The cold wind whipped her short hair into her eyes, but she didn't bother to bat it away. She was engrossed in plans for a new art show, one about husband stealing hussies who were possibly colorblind.
The happy couple finally made their way down to the street, Danny hovering like a helicopter as he watched Mindy slowly take the steps. He cupped her elbow gingerly with one hand when she teetered. Christina jumped up and dashed across traffic, narrowed avoiding an angry cabbie, the sound of a blaring horn the least of her concerns.
She startled them. Finding some pleasure in the shocked expressions on their faces, the camera began to snap again. "Liars!"
Deranged wasn't a word Christina would have used to describe herself. Even in this situation, she felt she was merely being appropriately passionate. Hopefully, that would come through in the blurry and unfocused shots.
Danny was the first to shake off the initial surprise. Stepping forward he placed himself in front of Mindy, an angry frown twisting his features. "Excuse me!"
"I ASKED you, Danny. And you said no."
"Asked me what?"
He shook his head in confusion, Mindy curiously peeking over his shoulder. Christina took another picture, snarling her nose at Mindy's raised eyebrows. "The night of her 'wedding' you told me you didn't have feelings for her, that the STACK of intimate letters I found HIDDEN in your desk didn't mean anything."
Danny's shoulders dropped unexpectedly, contrition painted on his face. Christina lowered her camera. An apologetically flushed face wouldn't jive with the tone of her newly planned collection.
"I was lying, you're right. I was lying to myself." He swallowed, awkwardly threading his fingers through his hair, his hand drifted to the back of his neck. "I uh… I didn't know.. God, Christina, why the fuck do you care?"
There it was, that thinly veiled disgust she was so used to seeing when he looked at her. The camera came up again, but before she could snap another shot a flurry of pink and yellow sent the device flying. Mindy moved swiftly between the lithe blonde and Danny, protruding stomach bumping into Christina's now empty hands. "Back off, nutcase. He didn't cheat on you. He spared you that indignity, unlike what you did to him."
That was all it took. Christina's world crumbled around her, the armor of her profession batted away like cobwebs. She was suddenly crying, large fat tears rolling down her angular cheekbones. The rage she'd seen on Mindy's face disappeared instantly, replaced by wide eyed shock. Mindy backed away slowly. "Shit… what the hell is wrong with you?"
The sobs came harder and faster in response to the sympathy in Mindy's voice. She was hiccupping like a child trying to answer the question. "I-I-I.." No, it wasn't any use, she couldn't make words form in the garbled mess of consonants spilling from her mouth.
That yellow and pink disaster of an outfit moved closer to Christina, one warm hand lighting on her shoulder. "Hey, come on… it's not that bad. Danny's still sweaty and he blows a gasket every time I mention the red sox."
"Mindy!"
Mindy shot him a look, ending his argument before it even started. Christina looked up at her, watery eyes ignoring the apoplectic look on Danny's face. This petite little firecracker of a woman was offering her sympathy? Of all the people in the world, she was certain this one would have hated her. She tried again. ."You're so… you look… happy." She gestured to Mindy's stomach with one finely boned hand, the tears wobbling in her voice again. "I can't have children."
"What!" Danny was pulling Mindy away. "Listen, Christina, you don't even want kids, you said it like a thousand times when we were married." He turned to Mindy. "She's playing you. Let's go."
"No, Danny...I… I lied. I couldn't have kids, then or now. I just didn't want you to know." She laughed ruefully,dashing away the fresh tears. "I thought you would leave me. At least when you thought I didn't want kids, you had this hope that you could change my mind one day."
Turning away, she withdrew from Mindy's sympathetic touch, bending down to pick up her camera. "I'm sorry. I'll leave."
As Christina walked away, she counted, the sound of untaken pictures clicking in her brain. This was it for her. There was no future, no family to look to in old age. How many good years did she have left? How many boyfriends would walk away when they found out about her problem? Rocco, her italian lover, certainly hadn't hesitated in finding a new fecund girlfriend when she'd told him.
She was just about to turn at the end of the block, when she heard Danny calling after her, or rather calling after Mindy.
"Mindy, stop running, you're going to break your neck!"
The bright little whirlwind was advancing on her, fast. "Christina, wait." She was panting as she approached her, holding out one hand. In it was a slim business card. "I have a fertility clinic, please come by. The first consultation is free."
Danny glared at her from about ten feet away. There was no sympathy on his face, just barely simmering rage. It only abated when his gaze shifted to Mindy, softening around his eyes as he stared at the woman he loved.
Christina nodded, pocketing the little rectangle of cardstock, watching as Mindy returned to Danny. They walked away from her without looking back, his left hand sliding down the back of Mindy's neon pink duster as he guided her along. She didn't' feel the hatred that had coursed through her only moments before, instead it was replaced by a faint hope. She hefted her camera in her hands, and snapped a picture of the departing lovers' backs. It felt good to watch them walk away.