Seven Sisters - Earlene Fowler [96]
“I get it. Am I right in assuming all the men loitering around outside are today’s models?”
She caught Elmo Ritter’s arm as he walked by and asked, “Who’s on the docket today?”
After adjusting his brown beret, he checked his clipboard. “There’s Miguel Aragon, San Celina Police Department, and white-faced calf—Mr. January; then Bill Connor, Arroyo Grande fire fighter, with baby ducks—Mr. March; Ty O’Brien, Highway Patrol officer, with lamb—Mr. August; and Josh Dunbar, county paramedic with shih tzu puppies—Mr. June. We had to reschedule Mr. February, the SWAT team guy, cause the Siamese kittens didn’t arrive. The cat lady called and said she couldn’t get here until Friday.”
“Fine,” Dove said. “As long as we get everything wrapped by Friday afternoon so we can get it to the printer’s next week.” She turned and yelled into the megaphone. “Are we ready for action yet?”
“We’re placing the calf now,” Edna said, helping the calf’s hairdressers position him in Miguel’s arms.
“Oh, shit!” Miguel yelled, holding the bawling calf away from him. “What’s this green stuff?”
The ladies jumped back from the splatter, laughing.
“Yes, it is,” Edna said.
“Oh, man,” Miguel moaned, looking down with dismay at the front of his jeans. “Don’t you have any, like, house-trained cows or something?”
“Oh, no,” Dove echoed. “Did you bring that extra pair of pants I told you to, Miguel?”
After getting him a new pair of jeans, Isaac cleared the barn set of everyone but him and Miguel.
While Isaac took Miguel’s picture and then developed the film in the small darkroom he’d set up inside the house, Dove and I served lunch to the hungry models and helpers.
“Have you seen Sam or Bliss today?” she asked, unwrapping a huge Pyrex bowl of her famous potato salad.
“I stopped by the bookstore and talked to Sam. He seems to be doing okay, though kind of sad. He says Bliss doesn’t want to see anyone right now, including him. He said to tell you he’d be back to the ranch tonight.”
“My heart surely goes out to them.”
A drop-dead handsome, black-haired man with eyes the color of blue jay feathers parked himself in front of Dove and held out a paper plate. He was dressed in jeans and an Hawaiian shirt.
“I thought you were on tomorrow’s list,” she said.
“Gotta work tomorrow. I called, and Mr. Lyons said he could fit me in today. Didn’t he tell you?”
“Probably, but my brain’s been a little full these days. Guess we do have to work around your schedule.” She looked him up and down critically before giving him a small scoop of potato salad and one thin slice of ham. His face fell in disappointment. With an apologetic look, I followed her lead and put one roll on his plate.
“You can have more after the shoot,” Dove said. “We don’t want any paunchy stomachs. The camera lens sees every bulge. Did you bring your uniform?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, eyeing her bowl of potato salad with longing.
“The shorts?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Not them baggy ones. The short, tight ones.”
“Yes, ma’am. Just like you told me.”
“Good, the Doberman puppies will look real nice with the brown.”
After he took his food outside, I asked, “What agency...?”
“UPS,” she said.
I laughed. “You’re kidding.”
“You know any woman who isn’t half in love with her UPS man?”
Before I left for my quilting class, Isaac showed me the contact sheets of Miguel. “He’s gorgeous,” I said. He’d managed to make Miguel appear both dangerously sexy and adorably boyish. The calf’s dark shiny eyes matched Miguel’s, and the delicacy of the animal’s fragile pink nose and gangly feet was a brilliant contrast to Miguel’s smoldering sexuality. Dove’s idea about men and baby animals was right on the mark. Just based on Miguel’s photograph, I’d buy this calendar in a heartbeat. And one for each of my friends.
“A photographer’s only as good as his subject,” Isaac said modestly.
I checked my watch. As fun and distracting as this interval had been, I had to get to my quilting class. My stomach churned, remembering what I had to accomplish there today.
“What’s going on, Benni?” Isaac