The Calendar of New Beginnings
money for research and care.
    “Lucy,” April said, taking her hand. “We all plan to dedicate our month to the loved one we lost. And I have a name for it. The calendar, I mean.”
    Lucy nodded, feeling her hand vibrate with emotion.
    “I figured that since we’ve all had to learn to live again after losing someone to cancer, we’ll call it The Calendar of New Beginnings.”
    Lucy had to swallow the lump in her throat. She knew something about new beginnings. “April, it’s a beautiful name and a beautiful idea.”
    “I’m dedicating my month to your grandmother,” her mom told her. “My mom was a tough woman, but she loved me and you too, kid. Do you remember how she used to make you ham sandwiches and oatmeal raisin cookies every Tuesday for school lunch? I wish I could still pick up the phone and call her. I even miss playing bridge with her—although she delighted in beating me into the ground.”
    Her grandmother had been fierce and competitive, but she’d always been kind to Lucy. She had died of lung cancer eight years ago. “Of course I remember, Mom. She was something.”
    “And my month is dedicated to Kim, of course,” April said, pursing her lips as if fighting strong emotion. “I miss that girl. She was a shining light in our family, and for Andy and Danny.”
    “So will you do it?” her mom asked.
    She reached for April’s other hand, both of them gazing at her with hope and determination. They would do it without her, she knew. And if she didn’t help, she’d feel like crap. Maybe this was her chance to learn how to take photos without her normal vision. If her condition didn’t rectify itself, she’d need all the practice she could get to adjust to her new constraints. While she would give it her best, no one would be expecting award-winning photographs for this calendar. That should help her deal with her terror over taking photos again, shouldn’t it?
    “All right, I’ll do it,” she announced, “but I want full artistic control.”
    They shrieked and high-fived each other.
    “Hear me well,” Lucy said, rubbing her ear. “We are not doing cantaloupes.”
    April grabbed her in a hug. “Don’t worry, Lucy. They’ll be going out of season soon anyway.”
    “If you don’t like the cantaloupes, Lucy,” her mom said, putting her arms around them both, “I’ve got lots of other ideas.”
    Lucy could only imagine. “I bet.”
    “There’s only one other thing,” April added, giving them all space.
    “What?” she asked.
    “Everyone has promised to keep the calendar a secret until it’s ready for publication.”
    “Good idea,” she agreed.
    Her mom cocked a brow. “April isn’t sure how Andy will take the news. Her scare…stirred him up…and then there are his memories of Kim.”
    To her mind, it didn’t help Andy the way everyone tried to handle him with kid gloves. “I won’t keep my involvement in this calendar a secret from him. He’s my best friend.”
    April’s face contorted. “I’m afraid to tell him. He…tried to hide it from me, but I know how much my scare affected him.”
    Lucy tucked her tongue against her cheek. “He’s stronger than you think, and it’s not like you can hide this from him forever. The calendar will be published at some point.”
    “True,” her mother remarked. “Maybe you might help April out by telling Andy?”
    If she hadn’t known April was less devious than her mother, she would have believed they’d planned this trap together.
    Her mother batted her eyelashes at her like a silent film ingénue. Lucy mirrored her crazy expression right back. April remained silent, looking back and forth between the two of them.
    “Fine,” she said finally, seeing no way out. “I’ll tell him.”
    “Good,” her mom said, patting her on the arm. “Now, about the poses. Everyone wants to have a say. Since it’s so personal and all…”
    Lucy suppressed a shudder. “I’ll be happy to listen. Within reason. Am I supposed to

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