The Game of Denial by Brenda Adcock

her hand so Joan could see. "These are excellent photographs Meg. Crisp and each one almost tells a story."
    Meg beamed at her mother's praise. "I've taken lots of pictures around the farm," she said.
    "Is that where you go when you wander off?" Joan asked.
    "Yeah, not much else to do," Meg said.
    "Will you do me a favor? No, two favors."
    "Careful or you'll use up your favor quota for the month," Meg said.
    "Damn! Not already," Joan quipped back.
    "What favors do you need?"
    "Will you take pictures at the wedding and reception?"
    "They've already hired a professional photographer for that."
    "But they don't know us, as real people. I'd like something more candid and not taken by a drunken guest. Would you do that?"
    "Sure. I don't expect to be dancing much or anything. And the second favor?"
    "Would you show me the pictures you've taken at the farm when we get home?"
    "I've got a really good one of you riding."
    "You little sneak! Did you get one of me walking funny afterward?"
    "Of course!"
    Joan pushed Meg away playfully. Making Meg come along had been a good idea. She needed to spend more time with her youngest daughter and vowed to do so when they returned to New York.
    "Mom!" Fran called out.
    "We're coming!" Joan said.
     
     

Chapter Twelve
     
     
     
    FOR THE SECOND night in a row, Joan was having difficulty getting to sleep. She was tired, but every time she closed her eyes sadness seemed to fill her mind and it refused to shut down. Maybe it was the anticipation of the wedding or her desire to be in her own home. She should have been exhausted by the time they returned from Loganville. Certainly after listening to Fran recount for Brad everything they had done and giving a detailed description of the lovely older cottage the realtor showed them. Joan had to admit that it was a picturesque and well-maintained cottage that had been built in the early nineteen hundreds. Then she dragged herself upstairs before midnight only to find Meg sitting in the middle of her bed, camera in hand, anxious to show Joan the pictures she had taken.
    She had looked carefully at Meg's photographs and commented on several of them. Her composition was excellent and Joan had to admit she was impressed. Finally alone, it was almost one-thirty in the morning before she stretched out on the down-filled bed. Irritated with herself, Joan threw the covers off and stepped into her slippers. She pulled her robe on and made her way downstairs in the dark. Gentle light from an almost full moon streamed in through the front windows, providing ample light to avoid bumping into furniture. She quietly opened the front door and made her way onto the porch. She sat down on the porch swing and plumped up a couple of pillows resting against the back and leaned against them. She draped one leg over the side of the swing and began to relax as the swing gently moved back and forth.
    She didn't know how long she had been semi-reclining when she heard the front door open. She sat up and watched a silhouette step onto the porch.
    "I couldn't sleep either," Evey's voice broke the quiet softly. "I made some chamomile tea. Sometimes it helps me when my mind won't shut down at night." Evey set a cup on the table next to the swing before making herself comfortable in a nearby rocking chair.
    Joan picked up the cup and could see wisps of steam rising from its contents. "Thanks. I don't usually have trouble falling asleep," Joan said before she took a sip of the hot liquid.
    "It was a very busy day. All the running around we did today makes it difficult to shut the brain down, I guess. Add that to all the excitement going on around here and anyone would have difficulty sleeping."
    "I suppose," Joan said. She cleared her throat before speaking again. "I...um...my mind seems to be suddenly flooded with memories."
    "About what? If you don't mind my asking."
    "The wedding I suppose. Don't take this the wrong way because we all love Brad, but it brings back the memory of