Page 85
Story: When You Smile
“Class this morning went well. This particular group of students is so eager. I absolutely love it when a group like this comes together.”
“Those are my favorite classes, too.”
“Finished another chapter and had a very productive call with my agent. I’ll tell you what she had to say over dinner. It’s surprising.”
“I hate to wait. I’m too impatient for that.” Taryn pursed her lips.
“Don’t give me the pouty face. You know I crumble,” Charlie said, pointing at Taryn with her wooden spoon. “We’ll talk over dinner.”
Taryn surveyed the clock above the oven. “Do I have time to change?”
“Is six minutes doable?”
She kissed Charlie’s cheek. “Sold.”
“A glass of wine with dinner? I’m having one.”
“Double sold.”
She dashed off with a smile and found her favorite pair of black joggers and a comfy sky-blue tee that had been washed a hundred times and was soft as a baby. Nearby on the dresser, she spotted the photo book she’d made for Charlie, reminding her of the journey that brought them to this very moment in time. A delicious shiver moved through her, and she grinned, aware of how lucky she was. Their shared vision for home was quite simply anywhere they could be together, and the corner unit in Brooklyn with the window seat fit the bill nicely.
Charlie didn’t have the fancy job at a major publishing company that she’d always imagined, and Taryn didn’t have the connections or experience level to make it as a big-time photographer in New York. Yet. But they dreamed their dreams side by side. They supported and encouraged each other to reach for the stars by day before falling into bed together at night, exhausted and happy. Taryn couldn’t imagine anything better.
The lasagna was close. “You hit this out of the park,” she said, staring down at her plate in reverence. “I think I’m going to cook tomorrow. I want to get better.”
“Oh, do you really think you cooking is a good idea for all involved?” Charlie laughed behind her napkin, probably remembering the time Taryn served dry and charred roast beef that came with a crunch.
“Let’s just have the delivery apps fired up and ready to go as backup,” she deadpanned.
Charlie laughed. “You’re on.”
“So, what did the agent say?”
“She called about the book.” Charlie had been working quietly on her novel for quite some time. Having started it in grad school, she’d been revising, draft by draft, until the book became the beautiful work that it now was, about a girl’s coming of age and the events that propelled her adult trajectory to extreme ends. Taryn found it to be a tearjerker for sure, and knew others would devour it the way she had.
“And?” Her heart rate began to pick up pace.
“She’s had a couple of nibbles but no real bites. She thinks we should put shopping the book on hold for now.”
Taryn deflated. “What? No, no, no. I think you just haven’t found the right publisher just yet. Tell her that it needs to be someone—”
“She did present me with a book deal for the short story, however. A really nice one.”
A pause. “Wait. What? An actual book deal?”
“Formally issued, just waiting on a few last-minute details to be negotiated and my signature.”
Taryn blinked, processing. Her stomach had dropped out from beneath her. “For a short story?”
“The little boy and the fire. Remember that one? My agent shared it on a whim. They love everything about it including my writing style. I took a meeting this morning with one of the executives at Luner Meyers and—”
“Luner Meyers? Luner Meyers is huge!” She was standing up at this point. “They’re the biggest there is!”
Charlie laughed, beaming. No, basking in the moment. “That’s true. You don’t have to stand up, but that was a pretty great reaction.”
“Come here,” Taryn said. Charlie stood, too, and Taryn pulled her into the biggest hug imaginable. Then a kiss. Then another hug. Then a kiss until they were laughing and jumping up and down together in their tiny but adorable kitchen. “Do you have any idea how proud of you I am?” Taryn touched her heart, which had swollen exponentially, aching with joy. “This is the best news I’ve ever heard, and I don’t know what to do with myself. My hands are all weird and moving wherever they want.” She shoved them rigidly to her sides like boards.
“Let’s sit,” Charlie said, handing Taryn her glass of wine. “Drink this. It will help you relax and enjoy.”
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