In a treelined yard, tucked away in the Kootenay mountains, she stands stiff, head slightly pivoted towards her mother. Her mother, has one arm around her, fingers pressing into her shoulder, crunching Catherine's loose black sweater. The space between their torsos shows off the faded aqua blue siding of their house. It contrasts the mother's red stilettos in the green grass. Those toes pierce forward, like her eyes, pleading at the cameraman to take the photo. Catherine's dark curls lift in the breeze adding to her lazy silhouette. The mother's other arm lay unyielding, pressed along the side of her pencil skirt and matching blazer. The daughter's shredded jeans expose her pale knees. A bright beige to match the mother's ensemble.
Their cheeks are rosy. A lack of a smile is causing the mother fury while Catherine is trying not to boil over inside. She's housing a secret beneath her sweater. She will tell her later when the bright summer sun which reflects off the neighbour's tricycle in the corner, sets. The garden hose to the left will have been neatly rolled up by the hand behind the camera, and the yellow tulips lining the kitchen windows will have closed. When the words are released, the mother will drop the pepper mill into the saucepot, staining her top with tiny specs of red. Catherine will feel one hot drop sting her open knee. For now, her eyes squint and they hold still. Smile. He takes the photo.
*****
Later, just barely across the border into Alberta, he tries again. "Big smile". "Here, look over here". "Just push that hair outta your face a bit". "There we go, great". She cradles the baby. Catherine's long grey dress blends with the dirty stucco from the apartment building behind her. Floppy white laces hang heavy over snug black converse. Oxeye daisies dot the yellow grass. She looks at the cameraman. Catherine smiles. The baby's pudgy face coils. She's wrapped in a fuzzy pale pink blanket, a gift. It came in the mail, with love, from Grandma from that tiny mountain town. Later to be left on a greyhound, forgotten and thrown in a box on the floor of the depot. Dirty now and coarse.