Faded Photographs

Barbara Larson's shoulders slumped as she sat cross-legged on the living room floor in front of two large cardboard boxes. Her body felt like she'd been pummeled to a pulp with a baseball bat, and not your ordinary plastic variety. All day long she attempted to sort through eight year's worth of collectables, knick-knacks, gifts, and finally the photographs. She decided she'd do the adult thing and be fair about it, especially now that Steve amicably agreed to end their marriage after several tortuous weeks of venomous arguments.

"I'll probably take back my maiden name. Wonder if I'll have to pay for that too? Or will he do the right thing?" She pondered, finally resigned to complete the dirty details. Thankfully no-one else was in the room hearing her talk to herself, but the walls echoed the quivering sounds of her voice. Her brow furrowed, she contemplated the unfamiliar idea of being a single mother, or even scarier thoughts of jumping back into the dating pool again.

"Oh no, I'll have to shave my legs all the time again, give up my comfy t-shirts, and put on those darn aching heels to go out." She groaned at the aspect, and didn't dare even think about the first time she'd have to remove clothing and slip in bed with someone other than Steve. An eerie chill suddenly darted up and down her spine.

With a shudder, Barbara turned to pick up one photograph framed in an antique frame, edged with ghastly miniature pink flowers. "Steve, when did it all start to go wrong?" She sighed, and brushed off the slightly dusty frame which had sat on their fireplace mantel for years.

The photo was of their happier carefree times. Steve was hugging her so fiercely she could hardly take a breath but wiggled around and managed to giggle in unabashed amusement. A friend managed to capture their image. The next week-end trip when they went antiquing, an activity they both enjoyed, Steve discovered the frame and declared it the only one for their photograph. She remembered his reply to her outright complaint, "But this is the ugliest, gaudiest frame I've ever seen."

"Beauty's in the eye of the beholder, and I behold beauty." Steve had said and when they returned home he framed their photo and placed it up on the mantel. She remembered him proudly boasting, "With this picture of you giggling, your face appears more radiant than all the stars in the entire galaxy. No one will dare to say this is an ugly frame."

Now Barbara slipped the photograph in Steve's box. "It's only fair that he keeps this one." She leaned back and picked up a fourteen by sixteen matted gold frame that framed their professionally done portrait from their wedding day. She couldn't help but smile, remembering their photographer's chagrin when he couldn't gain their cooperation for the usual dignified pose. Steve had slung her over his shoulder, wedding dress and all, and snarled, "Forget the shotgun Pa; I'll marry this filly, knocked up or not." She hesitated for only a few moments before placing the portrait on the side. "I should keep the wedding photos for our son."

Her hand landed on a baby blue frame with another photo. It was taken a month after their son, Trevor, was born. Being exhausted from staying up the previous two nights with their colicky son, Steve graciously volunteered to take the entire night's shift, giving her a much appreciated chance to catch up on lost sleep. She wearily climbed out of bed at three a.m. to check on how he was doing, only to find them both content. Trevor was gently snoring and Steve was snoring a little louder, both soundly sleeping in the nursery rocking chair. Rushing for the camera she managed to snap their photo without disturbing their sleep. Later she gave it as a gift to Steve on his first Father's Day. Now she gently wrapped it and slipped it in Steve's box.

Next was a tattered photograph carefully taped up. Trevor went on a rampage one evening when they left him with a babysitter to have some needed adult alone time, in order to celebrate their forth anniversary. Some photos were left scattered on the dining room table waiting for her to frame them, and somehow two year old Trevor managed to climb up and scribble on some of them with crayons and tear others up, all while the babysitter took a so-called nap. Needless to say the babysitter was fired and the photos became a puzzle, as they attempted to find the right pieces and tape them back together.

This tattered photo ended up a little off-center in the frame, but Steve decided to keep it that way. It was a photo of her graduation from nursing school. She wore a stethoscope slung around her neck and carried an enormous fake thermometer, aimed at the camera with a crazy leer on her face.

Steve had roared with laughter and barely managed to snap the picture with his shaky hands. He jokingly said, "I wouldn't let you near me Nurse Twisted, even if you were the only nurse in the hospital." She remembered responding, "Oh yes you would, after I give you your first bed bath." She recalled how proud he was, standing up and applauding, giving a pierce whistle through his fingers when she stood on the platform receiving her nursing degree.

The phone rang, disturbing her thoughts and she scrambled up to answer it. "Yes Steve. Tonight's fine. I'm almost finished anyway. Good, I agree...we should get through this like adults." After hanging up the phone she rushed back to finish sorting the multitude of photographs, and piles of photo albums.

The photo albums bore all their happy memories of numerous family events. Each person in a snapshot displayed quirky smiles, happy tears, or other kinds of crazy expressions from their performed antics. Laughter was once so important to them, and they both had shared a love for capturing precious memories with their cameras.

"This was all before everything went sour." Barbara mumbled, running her hand over their Halloween album. Halloween was one time of the year when they pulled out all stops, concealing each other's costumes from one another until they revealed them on Halloween. She flipped the book open and shook her head at what she viewed. In several of the photos they were wearing matching costumes, sometimes even identical ones. Images of two clowns, two hobos and two spotted cows flashed in front of her face as she casually turned the pages. Their friends never believed they didn't inform each other, because it was so uncanny that they somehow knew what the other was going to be.

"We just have a connection you'll never understand. Don't be hating." Steve had explained when they attended a party dressed as Hansel and Gretel, again without knowing the other's costume

"If we were so connected, why didn't I know this was going to happen?" Barbara said, closing the album and shoving it in Steve's box.

When the doorbell rang later that night Barbara was startled at first, before remembering Steve had solemnly handed the house key over to her the last time he left. A permanent image was etched in her brain from viewing him sauntering down the path, jumping into his jeep and driving slowly away. She didn't need a photograph of that day to place in any frame. After wiping away a tear, she pulled herself back together before answering the door, letting Steve back into the home which they once shared.

"Hello Barbara." Steve said.

"Hello." Barbara repeated the word as if she was speaking to a business acquaintance, instead of a man who shared her life and dreams over the past eight years.

"Is everything packed, and ready to go?" Steve asked.

She noticed his eyes were averted away from hers as he looked towards the living room. The walls were bare of framed photographs and also the tables, but the beige carpet was littered with assorted framed photos and scattered photo albums, with two large cardboard boxes totally empty.

"Steve, err, I almost had it all finished but ran into a little trouble...I mean, deciding... Well maybe you should just take..." She found herself stumbling over words as she blankly stared his way.

Steve's eyes held a fiery emerald gaze, sending shivers traveling up and down her spine. His eyes were always intense, chameleon eyes, switching tints with varied emotions, drawing you in to really notice him. In the past few weeks she had only viewed the stormy tints. Suddenly he spun away from her and stepped into the center of the room, squatting down to pick up one framed photo.

"No, you can't have that one!" Barbara shouted, and made a mad rush across the room to grab the framed photo out of his hands.

"And why not?" Steve asked. He held it in a firm grip.

There was a mild tug and war tussle between them, neither budged an inch.

She spurted out the first thing that sprung to her mind, "Because it's not faded yet. It's still new, not an antique."

"What the heck are you talking about?" Steve asked. His expression was total puzzlement.

"I mean..." Barbara shifted her eyes away from his pinwheel spark eyes, and gazed at the photo. It was a photo of their favorite restaurant, a small out of the way place which only seated twenty people at the most, but had the most magnificent antique furnishings. It was the place where Steve asked for her hand in marriage and she accepted, and also spilled a goblet of red wine all over her blouse and the white lace tablecloth when she leaped up. A waiter captured their happy celebration moment, spilt wine and all.

"Relax. Just explain yourself, Barbara." Steve said.

"I said it's not faded yet." She said and reluctantly released the photo after looking back at him. Her eyes almost seemed like they were glistening with tears.

"No, it's not." Steve agreed. His voice was hoarse as he laid the photo gently back on the floor.

Suddenly Barbara felt herself being pulled against him and held in his comforting bear hug. Engulfed by his muscular arms, she rested her head against his hard chest and felt his heart pounding against her ear. Hers was equally pounding from a sudden sense of pure relief. Maybe there was still a chance for them, because photos couldn't lie.

"You know, maybe we should give it some time, to let these photographs have the chance to fade? I'll agree to counseling, anything you want, because I...I still love you." Steve said. The words murmured against her hair.

"I never stopped loving you Steve. And...I'd really like to give it another chance." Barbara sighed. Suddenly she noticed Trevor was standing there looking at them both. He held the toy camera they had given him for his fifth birthday.

"Can I take a happy picture, Mommy?" Trevor asked in an innocent young voice.

"Go right ahead, honey." Barbara smiled and wrapped herself in Steve's reassuring, re-committed bear hug. She realized Valentine's Day was going to have more photos to add to their family albums.

THE END