by L. D. Davis
“I think you should still try for the modeling thing,” Emmy said after we laughed.
“I don’t have that kind of money,” I reminded her.
“Ask Mom and Dad.” She had said it in a tone that implied that I was an idiot for not asking in the first place. Emmet had suggested the same thing. I gave her the same answer that I had given to him.
“Your mom and dad have been great to me, Emmy, but they’re not my mom and dad and I’ve never asked them for anything—well except a green fishing pole,” I said, smiling at the memory.
“But they’ve always taken care of you like you’re one of us,” Emmy objected.
“I won’t ask,” I said firmly. “And I don’t want you to ask either.”
“Fine,” she huffed. After a pouty moment of silence, she asked, “So, have you come across any guys from school?”
I shook my head and laughed. “You’re so boy crazy.”
“I am, aren’t I?” She asked it with pride. Only my friend would take that as a compliment.
We talked about boys for a little while and then clothes and hair, and then she needed to go. She and Mayson were going to meet some kids in town. I felt a little jealous when I hung up the phone. That was the first summer that we were apart since we were seven.
Around three, I thought it would be a good time to go back to the Grayne’s. When I got there, Emmet was cutting the grass in a pair of shorts and no shirt. He was hot and sweaty and dirty. I loved it.
Control your hormones, Sensible Donya told me. I listened to her, gave Emmet a quick wave and went inside the house.
“Hey, Kiddo,” Fred said when I found him in his office behind his big mahogany desk.
“How was your business trip?” I asked, sitting on a leather couch against the wall.
“Boring,” he chuckled. “How are you? How is your mother?”
“Good,” I lied. I told Emmy, and I told Emmet, but I didn’t want to tell Fred and Sam about my mom. It just didn’t feel right.
“Did you meet that modeling agent?” There was a small hint of disapproval in his voice. It was so tiny; I almost missed it.
Fred didn’t think that young girls my age should be modeling. He said that the modeling world was seedy, that some of the pictures he’d seen were nearly pornographic and that someone my age shouldn’t be viewed that way, but he didn’t want to stand in my way. As long as I had proper supervision, he would go along with it.
“I didn’t, but I have time,” I said, choosing to avoid any talk about money.
“Good, good,” he said absently as he looked at something on his computer.
He was obviously busy, and I didn’t want to keep bugging him. I stood up and started for the door.
“Do you want me to make dinner for you guys?” I asked.
“You don’t have to do that, Kiddo,” Fred said, but he looked at me with hope, like he was hoping I would overrule him and insist upon it.
I shook my head at his expression and smiled.
“I’ll make dinner. If I don’t come over here and cook for you guys once in a while, you’ll live off of moldy cheese and take-out.”
“Thanks, Kiddo,” he said with a thankful grin.
I nodded and started out of the door, but Fred spoke again, and his question caught me off guard.
“Donya, whatever happened with that young man you told me about?”
I stood there just over the threshold looking into the office at him with a dumb expression on my face. It had been quite some time since we had that discussion. When he didn’t follow up a week or so later, I didn’t expect him to follow up at all.
“What?” I asked to buy some time.
“That boy you spoke about when we were fishing,” he said, leaning back in his chair as he studied me. “What happened?”
“Well,” I started slowly. “You don’t condone dating, so…”
I didn’t want to have to tell him the big lie, and boy was it a doozy.
Fred looked at me silently for what felt like forever. I had a crazy feeling that he not only saw right through me and knew who the mystery boy was, but he knew the wicked, dirty things we had done in said boy’s room.
“Is it Emmet?” he asked bluntly.
I don’t know where the strength came from, or the ability to mask my emotions, but they were both there at full power. My knees did not give out on me, and the mask slid perfectly into place with a surprised smile.
“Now you’re just talking crazy,” I said in a joking tone, though I don’t even know how I found my voice.
I laced my fingers together tightly in front of me to hide how much my hands shook.
“I was just curious. You know it wouldn’t be so unusual for you to have formed an attachment to him. The two of you grew up very close.”
“You wouldn’t disapprove of such a match?” I asked suspiciously.
“Of course I would disapprove of such a match,” he said, sitting up in his chair and leaning on his desk.
My heart sank as I waited for his explanation.
“Emmet should be looking after you as a little sister,” Fred explained, taking his glasses off. “If he looked at you as anything more than that, I would feel that he didn’t respect you as you should be respected. I would feel that he took advantage of his place in your life as a brotherly figure. It would be inappropriate and a little twisted for any of my boys to think of you as anything but a sister. Besides, he’s a little too old for you and you’re a little too young to be dating.”
I was shocked. Usually, Fred was not so judgmental. Fred was the parent kids went to when they needed an open mind and to make sense of something. I expected him to mention the age difference, but I did not expect the rest of it.
With a suddenly dry mouth, I smiled wide and said, “Thank God you have nothing to worry about then, huh? I’m not even sure why you asked about Emmet.” I laughed to imply that his idea had been ludicrous, even though I felt like bawling.
“The night of the wedding, you were talking to the Sampson boy, Taylor?” I nodded but remained quiet. “I watched Emmet watch you, and then I watched you and Emmet talking. I watched his face as you walked away. Not too long after you went in, he went in, too.”
We hadn’t been as careful as we thought. Fred had noticed. Who else had noticed?
“Emmet was just being a big brother,” I said dismissively. “I promise you that is all it was.”
Lie. Broken promise.
Fred smiled at me and nodded. “Of course.” He relaxed and then asked, “So, who is this prince charming?”
“No one anymore,” I said with a shrug.
“Well, you’re young. You have many years ahead of you to fall in love. Take your time.”
I bobbed my head in agreement and continued the façade of casualness. “I’m going to make dinner now.”
“Thanks, Kiddo,” he said. He gave me a wink and turned his attention back to his computer.
I went into the kitchen and tried not to cry.
Emmet and I were doomed.
Chapter Fifteen
The next two weeks flew by. Fred went out of town once more for four days. I stayed with Emmet in the house most of the time. It was strange to be in the family house without the family. We didn’t have any more serious discussions about our past, present, and future, though Fred’s words haunted every moment I spent with Emmet.
I didn’t want to tell him about the conversation because soon he would be going away to college. I had once looked at that as a negative point, but I began to welcome it. Maybe we would see what we were really made of with the separation. My hope was that it would give me some time to consider how to later break it to his family.
We didn’t have any more pornographic make-out sessions. We slept in the same bed, holding each other. We kissed, and we caressed. With great restraint, Emmet always pulled away from me first. I knew he wanted more, and Imposter Donya wanted more. Imposter Donya wanted to jump on top of him, pin him down, kiss him and m
ake him do bad things to her. However, I kept Imposter Donya chained up in the basement and let Sensible Donya prevail—though there was nothing sensible about a near-sixteen-year-old girl spending the night in the house alone with her older boyfriend. Sensible Donya was not without her flaws.
During the days that Fred was home, so not to bring any suspicion upon Emmet and me, I chose to hang out with my other friends during the day. Emmet would come over later in the evening while my mom was at work and he would leave before she got home. I cooked for him and Fred a couple more times, giving me an excuse to be there in the house. I didn’t really need an excuse, it was practically my home too, but I didn’t want to give Fred any more reasons to suspect that anything was happening between Emmet and me.
Sam and Emmy returned one week before Emmet was supposed to leave for Harvard. Though I knew my time with Emmet was going to be severely impeded, I was glad that everyone was back in New Jersey. None of my other friends could ever replace Emmy, and though Sam was nosey and too opinionated, sadly, she was still a decent replacement for my own mother who barely knew I existed.
Two days before we were to escort Emmet to his off-campus apartment, Sam and Fred asked to speak with me in Fred’s office. The request made me want to throw up. Were they going to ask me about Emmet again? Were they going to admonish me for my behavior? They never asked to speak to me alone before, not even when my dad died. Was there something wrong with my mom? Were they about to break more bad news to me?
When I looked at Emmet and Emmy for clarification, they gave me twin, suspiciously innocent shrugs. I couldn’t read Emmy’s emotions if she chose to keep them from me, but Emmet was a different tale. I was getting better and better at sensing what he was feeling, and I sensed that he was being elusive. I narrowed my eyes with distrust but followed Sam to the office.
Nervously, I sat on the edge of the couch, looking from Fred to Sam.
“What’s going on?” I asked, trying not to sound as frazzled as I felt.
I braced my hands on my knees and waited while Sam sat down on the other end of the couch.
“Now don’t get upset,” she said, putting her hand up to calm me even though I had no idea why I was there. “But Emmy told me about what your mama said about the modeling.”
“Emmet told me,” Fred said from behind his desk.
“Traitors,” I muttered. Even though I did not want Sam and Fred to know about the modeling thing, I was extremely relieved when neither of them brought up my relationship with Emmet.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Fred asked, sounding genuinely hurt. I talked to Fred about everything—well most everything.
I wasn’t sure how much my traitorous boyfriend and his traitorous sister had told them about my mom. I had to tread carefully.
“It isn’t your problem,” I said without malice. I said it simply because it was simple. It wasn’t their problem.
“Haven’t we always treated you like one of our own?” he asked.
“Yes, but I’m not.”
He winced and Sam shook her head. “That really hurts, Donya,” she said sadly. “You’re just as much our child as Emmy and Emmet are.”
Before I could respond to that, Fred said, “You should have come to us.”
“For what?” I asked defensively. “You want me to come to you and ask for money so I could possibly model? No matter how close we all are, you’re not my parents. My father is dead, and my mother is poor. That’s my reality, and I’m dealing with it.”
“Bullshit,” Fred snapped. Sam and I looked at him in surprise. Fred was not the cursing kind of guy. Maybe in his Marine days, but he wasn’t as a father and husband. “You forgot that you have another family that wants to see you happy and successful. You forgot that this family in this house is part of your reality. This isn’t about being close, Donya. We are a family, and you are a part of this family and always will be. It is a goddamn slap in the face when you sit there and try to pick at the threads that bind us together.”
I sat there in a stunned silence. I greatly underestimated how the Graynes felt about me and what I meant to them. I felt as if everything they had ever done for me was invalidated by my careless words.
“You’re our daughter,” Sam said quietly after a long minute of silence. “And we want to help you.”
“Maybe I’m not good enough to be a model,” I said in a shaky, low voice, echoing my mother.
“Emmet told me what your mom said,” Fred said. “I don’t think she meant to hurt your feelings. When we called her earlier today to discuss our plans for you, she was supportive.”
I looked at him with doubt. I had no support in that household.
“We are going to financially support you while you pursue a modeling career,” Sam said softly, but with a big smile. “Even if that Max won’t take ya, we are convinced that you are cut out for it. You didn’t see your portfolio yet.”
I had nearly forgotten about the photo shoot I’d had in Louisiana. The photographer, Tori, had worked in the modeling industry before, and she thought I did really well, but she was getting paid, and she wasn’t even in the industry anymore. I couldn’t take her words at face value.
Sam got up and walked over to her husband’s desk. He handed her a flat looking black book and she gave it to me before sitting back down on the couch. I put it on my lap and ran my fingers over the leather cover. I took a deep breath and opened it to the first page.
The very first picture was just a simple headshot. My hair was hanging loose on my bare shoulders and I was void of any makeup or moisturizer or anything on my face. My smile was pure and genuine. The second photo was another headshot without the smile and my hair was pulled up in a ponytail. The next photo was one of the ones taken during the photo shoot. I was modeling the Gucci dress that Sam had bought me the previous summer for a formal party. My hair was professionally done, my makeup was professionally applied and I was several inches taller in a pair of Manalo Blahnik sandals. My body was bent and twisted into awkward angles. I remembered posing and trying to find a good angle and feeling like an idiot, but apparently it worked. I looked like one of the women in the fashion magazines.
In the next photo I was in a classic looking white and red polka dot bikini and a black pair of heels. I had on an enormous pair of Dior sunglasses and my hair was pinned up. I was standing at the end of the pier with the lake at my back. I hardly recognized myself, and I barely recognized myself in the next three photos.
When I turned to the sixth picture, I had to swallow back a gasp. It was a picture of me standing with Emmet at Lucy’s wedding reception. There was a whole party going on around us, but in the photo, it was as if he and I had completely forgotten we weren’t alone. He was smiling affectionately at me and I was looking up at him with a raw, passionate, adoring expression. He had just told me how beautiful I was and how he wished he could wrap his arms around my waist and dance with me until the sun came up.
“It’s a beautiful picture,” Sam said. “Maybe Emmet should be a model, too. You two posed well together. Very convincing.”
I didn’t tell her it was very convincing because it was real and we had not even been aware of the camera. I looked at Fred and couldn’t read his expression. So, I turned back to the book and finished looking at all of the photos. I was beyond impressed by both Tori’s skills with the camera and my own skills that I had not been aware of until I looked through my portfolio.
“You’re stunning,” Sam said with another smile when I finished with the book. “I believe with a little makeover to fix your hair and maybe a push-up bra you can do this.”
I rolled my eyes and groaned as Fred snapped at her.
“No one said anything about a makeover or a damn bra,” he spat out.
“Just making a suggestion.”
“I like my hair,” I objected. “And believe it or not, I like my boobs!”
I liked that Emmet liked my boobs too.
Fred groaned as Sam and I bickered back an
d forth about my boobs and my hair.
“Enough!” Fred bellowed making us stop immediately.
Emmy was right. I had a nut job and a whack job for mothers, though for some reason, I didn’t take Sam’s words to heart like I did my mother’s.
“Now,” Fred said after we were quiet. “We are going to support you while you take a shot at a modeling career.” When I started to shake my head and speak, he raised his hand to silence me. “It isn’t a free ride, Kiddo. You will have a tutor, and you will keep up with your school work. You will be supervised around the clock wherever you go, and you will stay out of trouble, and you have to really try. You have to put everything you have into this. We will make sure you have everything you need. We already spoke to your mother, and she will do her part as far as your legal concerns.”
It really began to sink in what he was saying to me. “So…I won’t be going to school in September?” I asked.
“Doesn’t look like it,” he answered and didn’t seem too happy about it. “It all depends on this Max fella and other resources we are gathering for you.”
Just like that, my life was going to change.
“We still have many kinks to work out,” Sam warned. “But for now you’ll stay here or at your mama’s, but if you’ll need to be in New York or wherever for an extended period of time, we may have to consider other options.”
I looked from Sam to Fred and back and forth so many times I thought my head would tilt off of my neck and roll to the floor.
“You guys believe in me that much?” I asked in a small voice.
“We all do,” Sam smiled.
“Even with my little boobs and ugly hair?” I asked her dryly.
She gave a noncommittal shrug but then winked at me.
“My mother doesn’t believe in me,” I murmured. “She always goes with what you guys say because she doesn’t want to do the actual work of raising me. She’s just a…formality. She will probably be glad to be rid of me.”
I couldn’t stop myself from saying that out loud. I didn’t want them to know about my relationship with her, but any fool could see that my mom had stood on the sidelines all of those years, watching someone else raise her daughter, and she hadn’t cared. I thought under all of her depression and sadness and weakness she cared, but she didn’t, and it was time for me to come to terms with that.