by Randi Rigby
“And you fly into New York every time for work?” Gretchen made a face. She was painted in white so it came off a little Day of the Dead. “Doesn’t that get old?”
“Sometimes,” I admitted. “What did you do?”
Gretchen shrugged. “I got my GED and moved here just as soon as I could.”
I was trying to imagine a conversation with my father that included his daughter and a GED. I couldn’t even make believe him go through it.
“You graduate in May?” Kieko softly asked. Since Scotty had moved on to Daphne, I was free to nod. “That’s not so bad then.” At fifteen she was the youngest of us—she’d been modeling since she was twelve. She had a tutor and was living in Soho with her grandmother.
“Are any of you going to university?” I asked.
“What for?” Brigitte said, rolling her eyes. The fake eyelashes she was wearing were overly elongated and quite thick so the effect was pronounced. “You can’t make this kind of money going to school.” She was Danish so she pursed her pouty lips when she said the “oo” in school. “You’re the sunless tanning girl, right? And the new face of Archer Darby? How many shows are you walking in for Fashion Week next month?”
“Nineteen.” I didn’t know if that was a high or low amount. They just nodded.
“You don’t need school Kel,” Brigitte declared, rising gracefully to her feet as they called us back to set. “You need an apartment here in the city. And a good accountant.”
15
“Who run the world? Girls”
Beyonce
It was March 31st. Jack’s six-month contract with Adderson’s was officially ending and I’d never needed him more. I convinced him to let me take him out to dinner as a thank you and to celebrate his freedom. I even picked him up. For the record, his apartment smelled much nicer than Tony’s gym.
“You okay?” Jack leaned back in his chair and regarded me curiously with his hands folded in front of him on the restaurant table. In case I didn’t mention it enough, Jack cleaned up well. I’d always admired his taste in clothes and tonight he was looking especially sharp in a form- fitting, white button-down and trim, black tailored slacks. Bad sign that I was feeling nostalgic? We hadn’t even given our order to the waiter yet and I already didn’t want this evening to end. “You’re being weird.”
“I need some advice.”
“Don’t cut your hair.”
I blinked, momentarily distracted. “Why not?”
“Two words: Keri. Russell.”
“You watched Felicity?”
“I had the flu,” Jack huffed. “For an entire week. You owe me at least four seasons of The A-Team.”
So not where I was going with this. “Fine. The next time I’m sick I’ll binge it.” I was struggling to retain an air of casual indifference. “So, I’ve now heard back from all five of the universities I applied to.”
“Let me guess. You got in to all of them, even the Ivies.”
I stared at him, surprised. “I did. How did you know?”
“Are you kidding? I’ve seen your homework. Why do you care? I thought you’d already decided on UT?”
I sighed and stared at the clean, smooth surface of my gleaming white dinner plate. “I thought I had too.”
Jack’s hazel eyes were watching me closely. “What happened to change your mind?”
Back to the beginning Grace. I took a deep breath. “I may’ve mentioned this before, but the only reason I started this whole modeling thing, huge ego boost aside, was because it slightly terrified me and pushed me out of my comfort zone. I didn’t actually expect it to turn into…what it has. Everything just happened so fast. No one, not even Shae if she’s being honest, saw it coming. I know we all worked incredibly hard for this but really I just got so lucky.”
Jack waited.
I realized I was twisting my napkin into knots. I placed it firmly on my lap and set my hands on the table. “I don’t want to do it anymore.”
“I’m sorry? What did you just say?!” He was squinting at me like somehow if he just did it hard enough it would help him see things clearer. “Are you being serious right now?”
“Come on Jack, we both know the only reason I exploded on social media was because of you. I can’t keep that up on my own. I don’t want to. It’s not who I am. My whole life I’ve pretty much been two things: tall and smart. I need to be more than a glorified clothes hanger. I want to go to law school. I want to be able to help shape public policy one day. I didn’t know this about myself until I took psych and philosophy this semester and it’s like every day as I studied and read, little pieces of my puzzle started to come together and then Senorita Mendes was put in that awful detention center and researching immigration law something suddenly just clicked for me and I finally made sense. I want this so desperately and I’m terrified I’ve already screwed it up. How’s anyone supposed to take me seriously when they’ve seen me hawking Tropically Kissed products in a bikini?”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic, Kel. Everyone has to pay for law school somehow. Just lead with your brains like you always do.” He pulled at his scruff. “Have you already told Kirstie this?”
“I haven’t told anyone yet. You’re my litmus test.”
“How am I doing?”
“You’re not yelling at me. That’s a win.”
“I don’t have a signed contract with your name on it,” Jack reminded me.
“I went over copies of all my contracts last night.” I stopped extracting documents from my tote and made a face at him. “My Tropically Kissed contract is actually up for renewal. I’m supposed to have it signed, sealed, and delivered to Rosie first thing tomorrow.”
“Yeah? My flight doesn’t leave until 3:00. Can you please wait until after then to let it all hit the fan?”
I ignored him. “I have another year on Archer Darby but I actually don’t mind that. Pippa and Thomas are lovely and their stuff is always highbrow. I’ll just have to figure out how to work my school schedule around whatever they need.”
He slowly nodded.
“Everything else I can wrap up between now and the end of summer. See?” I laid everything out chronologically for him. “I can do it, Jack.” I leaned forward, almost whispering now. “Legally. I can walk away.”
His hazel eyes skimmed the contracts I’d papered our table with and then back up at me. “This is really a big deal to you, isn’t it?”
“Yes. It is.”
“Well, if you’re not going to UT, where are you going to become the next Amal Clooney?”
I blushed, gathering everything back up and reattaching the clip. “Brown. And then hopefully Harvard.”
He straightened and reached for the pitcher he’d hastily moved to the side to make room for contracts. “Of course. I don’t even know why I bothered to ask. Would you like some more water?” I slid my glass over his direction. “So what does Disney prince think of all this?” He stopped pouring when he saw the look on my face. “Ah, that’s right, I forgot. Litmus test.”
“UT isn’t really practical,” I said quietly.
“I know,” he said gently.
“You do?”
He reached out and gave my fingertips a little squeeze. “Sadly, I’ve found that what I want and what’s best for me are rarely the same thing.”
“So, what do you do?”
“You make the hard choice and trust that in the end it was the right one.”
“What if it wasn’t?”
“I don’t want to know.”
I stared at his well-shaped, oh so familiar hand in mine. “I’m really going to miss you.”
He casually reached for his glass, releasing my hand to do so. “I’m not going anywhere, Kel.” Not true. Jack was leaving Austin for New York City tomorrow. He was just hired to work on the marketing team for the Miss Universe Pageant system. Apparently his help with the successful launch of my career hadn’t gone unnoticed. It was a great opportunity for him and probably a
dream job, given he was all about the view—and that was about as good a view as it got for a heterosexual male. He wouldn’t have time for me now. He’d be too busy promoting world peace.
Our waiter suddenly appeared at our table like a mirage, but a grumpy one that just wanted to know what he could get for us already. An attitude adjustment, Jack’s raised eyebrow response to our waiter’s obvious disapproval that after all this time we still hadn’t figured out what we wanted to order.
Don’t get me in trouble. And don’t make me laugh, my blue eyes pleaded as I hastily picked up my menu.
Jack winked at me, I don’t know what you’re talking about.
At the end of the evening, Jack invited me up to his apartment. “I have something for you.”
I parked the Mini in his visitor spot and retrieved the package I’d wrapped earlier for him from the backseat before we headed upstairs.
“You first,” I said, handing him his present as he joined me on his couch—one of the few things left not boxed up or covered in moving blankets. I’d taken considerable pains finding the perfect paper and complimentary ribbon and I’d tucked in all the edges and taped it together so none of the tape was showing. It was altogether very elegant and looked as good as any of the finished versions from the YouTube demonstrations I’d watched several times. He didn’t need to know this was my second attempt. Jack sighed as he took it in his hands.
“You’re going to make me open this carefully so the paper doesn’t tear, aren’t you?”
“It’s your present. Do whatever you want with it,” I shrugged, not taking my eyes off my pretty wrap job.
“Do you have a curfew?”
“No.”
“Good. We might be here all night.”
I slipped out of my kitten heels and tucked my long legs underneath me on his sofa. “Please, don’t let me stop you.”
Given the insane number of photos Jack had taken of me over the past six months, I only had three pictures of the two of us together. My favorite was taken in Central Park at the end of a run. The sun was just starting to come up and our cheeks were still flushed from the brisk morning air and our recent exertion. Jack was wearing a beanie over his bed head; I had my hair up in a high, chunky ponytail and was sporting furry, white ear warmers. We were both grinning madly, our heads bent close together. I had the photo blown up and framed. Attached to the back was a silver engraved plate with the inscription, We had a good run, you and I. Thanks for going on this crazy journey with me, Jack. Love you always, Kel.
“I forgot about this,” Jack said softly as he stared at our radiant faces. “That was a really good day. Thanks, Kel. This is going with me in my suitcase to New York.” He leaned in slowly and kissed me on the cheek. I held onto him a little longer and a little tighter than I probably should. I hope he knew how much he meant to me.
Maybe if you actually told him. “I hope you know how much you mean to me,” I sniffed in his ear.
“You’re so predictable.” I could hear the smile in his voice. There was a rustling of paper and then, in my blurry line of vision, a snowy white hankie dangled from his fingers.
I pulled away as he handed it to me. “Since when do you carry a hankie?”
It was monogrammed. With my initials. “Since I learned I wouldn’t be around to keep you in tissues for a while,” Jack said. There was a gift bag next to him containing eleven more. “Don’t worry, I’ll stock up whenever you come to New York.”
“Psh. You won’t have time to see me.”
“Yeah. You’re probably right.” He wrapped a finger around a lock of my hair and gave it a gentle tug. “Call me anyway. I know I’ll never see you on Instagram again. Promise?”
“Promise.”
But I realized as I drove home that I’d also promised Drew I’d go to the University of Texas – Austin with him this fall. Apparently my promises didn’t mean a whole lot.
I texted Drew. Free for dinner tomorrow night at my place?
Is it vegan night? He responded.
That was yesterday.
Love to.
“Something smells good.” Dad bent to greet Charlie, one hand already loosening his tie.
“It’s not too late to change your plans and join us.”
“I’m good. Nick’s dying to try out a new sports bar downtown. Cade assured him it’s the bomb.” He dropped his keys on the shelf by the door to the garage.
“Erin going?”
“Not tonight. Brothers only.”
“Probably just as well. She doesn’t like basketball.”
Dad made a face. “I know, what’s up with that?”
“No one’s perfect.”
“You are,” Dad loyally supplied, swiping a piece of mango from my salad with a grin.
I smiled sweetly at him. “I meant, besides me.” And paused in my stirring. “Justin dropped off a bunch of tile for the pool house. You’re supposed to take a look at the grout you ordered. He thinks it’s too brown.”
“It’s not too brown.”
“Hey. Me: messenger.”
He leaned against the island. “So, how did things go with Kirstie this morning?”
Dad was surprisingly nonplussed last night when I broke the news to him that I wanted to end my modeling career and go to Brown this fall and major in Philosophy in pursuit of a law degree. Show me your plan was his only response. He didn’t even say he’d miss me when he gave me a big hug.
“Still TBD. She needed time ‘to process everything.’ To be fair, Rosie warned me when I went in that Kirstie’s schedule for the day was already crazy. If it hadn’t been for the Tropically Kissed contract renewal deadline I would’ve waited for a better time to tell her.”
“And we’re telling Drew tonight?”
“We most likely, depending on how dinner goes and how it seems Drew is feeling, are geared up to at least give it a try,” I said.
“Bryce mentioned Drew was thinking about majoring in Architectural Engineering.”
“He is.”
“He wants to take him on this summer, give him some experience.”
“He should. Drew’s a hard worker.”
“What about his music?”
I sighed. “I don’t know, Dad. I guess he just wants to make sure he has a way to pay his bills. Things were tough for them growing up. Drew’s a dreamer but he’s also got his feet firmly planted on solid ground.”
“One of the many things I admire about him.”
“I know. You love him. Charlie loves him. The whole family loves him. I am, coincidentally, also crazy about the guy. I’m really trying not to screw this up.”
Dad was suddenly serious. “Just remember Kel, inevitably, part of loving someone is learning how to let go.”
Maybe, but not tonight.
“Are we celebrating something?” Drew asked, slightly alarmed when he saw the candle light dinner for two I’d laid out, the fresh flowers on the table, and Mom’s silver, china, and crystal stemware. Norah Jones was playing softly in the background.
I pulled off the apron I’d been wearing to protect my dress. It wasn’t anything fancy but I was a hot mess when I cooked. “Us. We’re celebrating us.”
“Oh, good. I love us.”
I kissed him. “Me too.”
Two summers ago, Mom had this mad itch to go on a cross-country road trip as a family. She mapped out all the quirky little towns we had to see; unearthed anything passing as action along the way and, with my assistance, made a compelling case in the form of a multimedia presentation to help convince my father, who, because of his long legs, hated to be cooped up in a car. Popcorn was involved. But first there was an amazing meal. She called it “improving your odds.” An immediate, but thankfully private, serving of dessert might’ve also occurred when Dad reluctantly agreed—I tried not to think too much about my parent’s love life. The point was, and I did have one, it was important to set the mood.
I waited until Drew had eaten his fill of pot roast and new potatoes
before finding a tenuous smile. “I have something to tell you. Three somethings actually.” I pulled him to his feet. “Dance with me?”
He took me in his arms. He was in my neck and hair as we swayed to the music. “Mmm, you smell incredible tonight.”
I laughed. “I’m pretty sure that’s the pot roast talking.”
He smiled his half-smile. “You wear it well.”
“Thank you.” My hands slid into his hair, my forehead touched his. This boy. I know, I told my heart. I know. I cleared my throat. “So, the first something: I’m giving up modeling.”
Drew looked momentarily stunned but then he pulled me closer and quietly said, “If that’s what you want. It’s your choice to make, Kel.”
And without him saying another word I knew that he knew what I was about to say next. Maybe not the particulars, Brown could be one of any number of universities far away from Austin and him and us but leaving was still gone. “I’m sorry Drew. I want to be a lawyer. A good one. To do that I have to get the very best education I can get my hands on from the very best schools I can get into.”
“Where?”
“Brown.”
I couldn’t see his face. He’d tucked his chin on top of my head and his hand was holding me close. Incidentally, he too smelled pretty amazing. Finally he spoke and his voice sounded so far away, “What’s the third something?”
“I love you, Drew Jarrod. I don’t know if you find your forever when you’re only eighteen but you’re all I can see right now.”
We clung to each other, not moving at all. “Me too, Chicago. Me too.”
Kirstie was sitting at her desk, perusing contracts when Rosie let me in. We’d both had a couple of days to sit with the news, I even told Aunt Shae. I think she took it harder than Kirstie did. “Still feeling the same way?” Kirstie said when I’d slipped into the seat across from her, just as I had so many times before.
I squared my shoulders. “Yes.”
“Okay then. Well, your early read on your contractual obligations lined up with our lawyer’s. I guess that’s a good sign for your future chosen career.” She looked up at me and took her glasses off and pushed them wearily onto the paperwork, shaking her head. “You worked so hard, Kel. It felt like you were just really taking off.”