Justify My Love

by Maria Carter

  "No, not really. He just asked me to come. Is that okay?"

  "Yeah, it'll be fun. We can watch America's Next Top Model together! My friend Joanna said that they're running a marathon tonight. I love it—all the fashion and places to see and that Miss Jay is so funny because you know she's actually a guy—"

  "It's okay for you to watch it?"

  "Oh, yeah. Dad just says if I ever start acting catty like those girls I won't be able to anymore. Is modEricng really like that?"

  Vanessa began driving back.

  "Not exactly. Not for me, at least. I didn't travel away from New York very often, so I didn't have the roommate issues, and I'd take a dance job before a modEricng job any day. It was fun, though. There were always cameras and stylists and great clothes, but once you're on the runway or in front of the backdrop, there is a lot of pressure. If I had to be critiqued after every gig like those girls on TV I wouldn't have enjoyed myself. The show makes the business look harder than it is, I think. Either you have the look, or you don't."

  "Do I have the look? Could I be a model someday?"

  Vanessa smiled. Yesterday, Julia had been obsessed with cheerleading. She probably still was, but she was also at that age where she wanted to try everything.

  "Of course. I think you'd be great."

  Vanessa pulled up to the house and parked the truck. Julia grabbed her bag and hopped down. Timberlake met them at the door, tail wagging and tongue ready to give slobbery kisses. Julia laughed and rubbed his fur, then dropped her backpack beside the kitchen table.

  "Do you want a snack or something?" Vanessa asked.

  "Sure. PB&J?"

  "Coming right up."

  Julia ran upstairs to use the bathroom, and then settled in front of the TV with Timberlake to find the marathon. Vanessa made them both sandwiches, and they ate while the models went through challenges and got dressed up in extravagant outfits. She and Julia gave their own critiques of the fashion and the girls' behavior. They were having fun; the atmosphere was easy and comfortable.

  "My favorite episodes are the go-sees," Julia said between bites.

  "Me, too," Vanessa answered. "I love the idea of meeting all those great designers."

  "Did you ever do that?" Julia asked.

  "I usually found my gigs through Tom."

  "I like Tom. He's funny."

  "Yes, he is."

  "Can I see what you did?" Julia asked suddenly, taking Vanessa off-guard.

  "What, with modEricng?"

  "Yes. All these girls have portfolios. Do you?"

  Vanessa smiled. Tom was extremely narcissistic. Vanessa was mildly narcissistic.

  "I do." Vanessa stood and headed for the bedroom.

  Julia followed her and jumped on the bed. It was familiar; Vanessa liked it. She was starting to feel like she could do this, be some kind of a mother figure. Julia seemed comfortable and happy lying in the bedroom that seemed to have been avoided until Vanessa came along. She rummaged through her bags until she found a black binder. Then she joined the eleven-year-old on the bed.

  The first few pages were studio shots she'd paid for a year ago, just to show her range. Her hair had been longer then. It was sleek, and her makeup was natural. It may also have been the most she'd ever spent on clothes in her life. And they looked fantastic, too.

  "Wow, Vanessa. You look even prettier than normal," Julia said.

  "Oh, it's the airbrushing. Mostly."

  "What exactly is airbrushing? They talk about it on America's Next Top Model sometimes, but I don't get what it is."

  "It just takes away everything you don't like about yourself. It can make you skinnier or take away pimples or whatever you want."

  "Won't people expect you to look different in real life?"

  Vanessa shrugged. "I don't know what people expect. It doesn't make you look like someone else, exactly. It just makes you look like you at your best. It takes away the flaws."

  Julia looked thoughtful as she turned the page, studying the pictures. "What would they take away from me?"

  "You don't need anything taken away, silly." Vanessa nudged her affectionately, and Julia smiled.

  "What did you have taken away?"

  "I think I had a zit that day. Right here." She pointed to the photo.

  Julia smiled and turned the page again. They were getting into the tear sheets.

  "What magazine is this?"

  "Seventeen."

  "That jewelry's so pretty."

  "Thanks. I got to keep the bracelet."

  Julia' eyes went wide. "You get to keep what you wear?"

  "Not always. Only if the person in charge is feEricng generous. But if you're nice and professional and do your job well, you might get a little bonus."

  "I wish I could do something like that. I want to see myself in magazines."

  "I thought you wanted to dance."

  "I do. But this looks fun, too."

  Vanessa closed the book. She had an idea, one involving modEricng, Tom, and a whole lot of fun.

  "Do you want to do it?"

  "Do what?"

  "Have a photo shoot. Right now. We'll get dressed up. I'll do your hair and makeup. My camera's in my suitcase."

  "Yes!" Julia squealed.

  She clapped her hands happily, and Vanessa climbed off the bed to get her camera.

  "Let's go find an outfit."

  Vanessa shooed Julia out of the master bedroom. Timberlake had been waiting for them just outside the door and followed them up to Julia' room.

  "What do you think of this?"

  Julia pulled a dark blue handkerchief-hemmed skirt out of the closet. Vanessa sat on the purple comforter and reached out to examine the item.

  "That's beautiful, Julia."

  The girl reached into her dresser drawer and pulled out a white tank top with blue flower decals. "With this?"

  "Definitely. You're a natural fashionista."

  "Thanks." Julia smiled and turned to hold the pretty items against herself as she looked in the mirror.

  "Should I close my eyes?"

  Julia nodded, and the Vanessa covered her face obligingly until Julia gave the okay. The outfit looked as pretty on the girl as it had on the hanger. Julia sat down in the vanity chair, and Vanessa brushed the long, blond locks, just as she had to fix her ponytail the night before.

  "Mom used to brush my hair," Julia said after a moment.

  "Mine did, too," Vanessa answered.

  She wasn't sure what to say, how serious the eleven-year-old wanted the conversation to be. So she left her reply at that and began pulling the girl's hair up into a messy bun.

  "I wouldn't mind it if you stuck around for a while."

  The girl's statement was quiet, almost matter-of-fact. Vanessa tried not to smile too widely. It was just what she'd wanted to hear, just what she'd needed to disperse the few insecurities she still had. She was two seconds away from jumping for joy and one second away from telling Julia the good news—that it just so happened she was sticking around. But it was a big step, a big decision, and a big announcement she was sure Eric would want to be a part of—even if she already had his daughter's blessing.

  "Thanks, Julia. That means a lot." Vanessa finished with her hair. "Want to help me pick out my outfit?"

  Julia nodded and stood. Vanessa wrapped an arm around her and squeezed. It was the best way she could say thank you—thank you for letting her be a part of this family, for letting her love her father, for letting her life take such a turn from misery to perfection.

  Chapter Fourteen

  "Pose! And pose! I like that. Beautiful, Julia. You're not so bad, either, Van."

  Tom had arrived at Eric's house just as he'd promised and just in time to play the role of fashion photographer. Julia and Vanessa were in the living room, America's Next Top Model still playing in the background. They'd taken at least a hundred shots already, and Timberlake had managed to jump, squirm, and pounce his way into about half of them. They stopped periodically
to review the snapshots and gush over how pretty they looked. Vanessa had ended up in a short, backless black dress with a beaded front.

  "Let's do something different," Tom suggested, pushing the dog out of the way with his foot for the millionth time.

  "Like what?" Julia asked.

  The girl was over the moon with excitement. She smiled in every picture. Even when Tom snapped at them to "look serious, for God's sake," Vanessa could see it in her eyes.

  "Air shots, maybe?" he suggested.

  "Oh, God. I'm in heels," Vanessa protested.

  "Aren't you always, Van? Get over it and get on the couch."

  Julia was already on the couch. Her feet were bare because she'd wanted to wear a pair of Vanessa's high heels, but they were too big. She kicked her feet up, and Tom snapped away. Julia was laughing; Vanessa was trying to decide how Eric would feel about his daughter jumping on the furniture. It seemed harmless enough, but it sounded very much like something her mother had told her not to do when she was young. But Julia was supervised. What could go wrong?

  Vanessa stood on the couch as best she could in her impractical shoes. Julia grabbed her hands, and they jumped off together. Several of the pictures so far had looked like family portraits—very nice family portraits—but Tom was trying to get away from that. The pair leapt off the couch a few more times before they predictably ended up in a heap on the ground. Vanessa was out of breath, laughing along with Julia, and checking her silk dress for tears.

  "Okay, I'm either going to break my neck or rip my dress. I'm out of the jumping game," she said. "But you two keep going."

  "We could get some with her on the couch and you standing in front of her. Look badass, both of you."

  "Tom!" Vanessa hissed before turning to Julia. "You didn't hear that. Never say that."

  Julia shrugged and stood behind Vanessa. Tom came over to position her so one arm was draped over Vanessa's shoulder. Vanessa shook her hair out and put one hand on her hip. She was taking the shoot semi-seriously, for Julia' benefit, but not at the expense of fun. They were bonding, and Vanessa was happy.

  She couldn't wait for Eric to get home. She couldn't wait to tell Julia. Then they could begin their lives together, as a family. She'd miss Tom. She'd miss her parents. She'd miss New York. But it was worth it to feel the way she felt when she was with Eric.

  "Tom, I want to do another air shot!" Julia squealed, breaking Vanessa out of her thoughts.

  Without warning, the girl leapt off the couch toward Tom, but she miscalculated and collided with the male model.

  "Shit!" Tom shrieked.

  "Tom! Language, for God's sake." Vanessa grabbed Julia' arm to steady her. "Are you okay?"

  "Yeah," Julia answered sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Tom."

  "Mmhm," was the annoyed reply.

  "You need to be careful, Julia," Vanessa told her.

  Tom had his hands covering his face. Vanessa's camera had dropped carelessly to the floor. Julia looked like she might cry, but Vanessa gave the girl a tight hug.

  "It's okay. Accidents happen. You should probably get started on your homework."

  "I'm really sorry. Can we do this again sometime?"

  "Yes, definitely." Vanessa smiled. "Just without the air shots."

  "Okay."

  Julia smiled and went in the kitchen to get her homework. Vanessa heard the front door open.

  "Hey, Julia," Eric's deep voice rumbled in the other room.

  "Hi, Dad! I had a photo shoot today. Vanessa had her camera and we got all dressed up and Tom came over and we took a lot of pictures but then I accidentally hurt Tom, I think, so now I'm doing homework. But don't you think I look pretty, Daddy?"

  "Of course you do."

  "I want to look like this every day. Vanessa said I was a fashionista."

  "You're a little young to wear that much makeup outside of the house."

  "But you said I look pretty."

  Vanessa could hear the pout in the girl's voice, and she smiled.

  "You look a little too pretty. Maybe when you're older."

  "Vanessa." Tom's muffled voice tore her away from eavesdropping. "As much as I'd love to leave you here with your happy instant family, I could use a tampon."

  "What are you talking about?" She saw the blood on his hands. "Oh my Gosh! Sorry, Tom."

  She was on the verge of laughing. Tom still managed to look snobbishly annoyed, even with blood dripping from his nose. She grabbed his arm and tugged him through the master bedroom to the bathroom.

  "She broke my nose, Van. This is why I don't work with kids."

  "I don't think she broke it."

  Vanessa sat him on the toilet and wrapped a towel around his neck. She knew protecting his clothes was the first priority.

  "Tampon, Van," he reminded her.

  "There aren't any," she laughed, rummaging through the cupboard under the sink. "All I have is...toilet paper."

  "Well, go get one. You know they work better."

  It was true. They'd had a few drunk escapades in New York over the years, and that was one rule they'd learned for certain: When you fell off a bar stool, ran into a glass door, or tripped over a curb and banged your nose against a telephone pole, tampons did wonders at controlling the flow. After all, that's what they were designed for.

  "I don't have any."

  "Well what the hell have you been using?" Tom shoved the toilet paper up his nose and stood to wash his hands

  "Nothing," Vanessa answered. "I'm not...I don't need them."

  Tom stared at her. Vanessa stared back, confused. What was his problem? Why did he suddenly care so much about her menstrual cycle?

  Then, standing in Eric's bathroom with her best friend, Vanessa's perfect new life crashed down around her.

  She was late.

  Vanessa put a hand to her mouth and shook her head. No. This couldn't happen. Not now. Tom gripped her shoulders gently in his hands, forcing her horrified gaze to meet his.

  "How long has it been?" he asked.

  It should have been comical—a gay man with toilet paper stuck up his nose in a bathroom with his possibly-pregnant best friend was funny. It should have been funny.

  "I don't know. A while."

  They heard the bedroom door open.

  "What are you going to do?" Tom asked in a hurried whisper.

  "I don't know. Get a test? I guess."

  Tom nodded. Then Eric was there, and Vanessa had to pretend everything was okay. He leaned his tall body against the bathroom door frame, that stupid trucker cap perched on his head. He was so perfect it hurt.

  "Hey, I was wondering where you two went."

  He grinned, and Vanessa smiled half-heartedly in return.

  "Did Julia do that?" Eric asked, gesturing towards Tom. "I'm sorry. She gets...energetic."

  "It's fine. Really. She didn't ruin any clothes or break any bones," Tom answered.

  He smiled a little too widely. Eric's brow furrowed. Vanessa bit her lip. She was still in shock. What could she say to him? If she was pregnant, it wasn't his. The timing was off. She needed to think. She needed to figure out the next step. But he didn't voice his concern.

  "So did you want to go in the kitchen, Vanessa?" he asked instead. "I think we can finally tell Julia the news."

  "Oh, um, I was actually going to go out with Tom for a little while. Buy some Tylenol for his nose. And it's a little late, anyway, don't you think? We could do it tomorrow."

  "We have Tylenol here."

  "Yes, but...Tom needs...extra strength."

  "You could go after we tell her," Eric suggested, a frown on his lips, suspicion in his eyes.

  "He's in a lot of pain."

  She glanced at Tom, and he quickly put a hand to his nose.

  "Oh, yes. It hurts. A lot," he agreed.

  "Okay." Eric stepped aside. "We'll do it tomorrow."

  Tom made his escape. Vanessa lingered for a moment. She didn't know where they would be by the end of this night. Tears pricked her eye
s, but she held them back. With any luck, she was overreacting or miscalculating.

  In the back of her mind, she knew she wasn't.

  "I'm sorry," she said. "I love you."

  Eric nodded and kissed her. Then she left as quickly as she could without setting off anymore alarms.

  Eric watched Vanessa go, his heart in the pit of his stomach. Something was wrong. What had Tom said to her? What the hell had happened in the last five minutes? Fear of losing his newfound love rooted him to the floor—because that's just what was happening.

  Her kiss was a little more distant. It was the beginning of the end. And he hadn't seen it coming until now.

  He glanced over at the dresser, at his wife's photo. Was it supposed to hurt this much? After just one week? He and Angela had been together for years before her death, but the feEricng of loss was the same. He loved with his whole heart, and it was already aching. The final blow hadn't even been struck.

  Eric tossed his cap on the bed and rubbed his hands over his face. Ally had been right. She'd been the only one to disagree with his choice to bring Vanessa into Julia' life, and he'd blown her off. But she'd been right. He'd been stupid.

  He hoped there was some other explanation for Vanessa's actions. But he already knew there wasn't. Bouncing footsteps sounded in the next room, and he forced himself to move. A bright flash from the doorway blinded him.

  "Gotcha, Dad," Julia laughed.

  Eric blinked. When the bright spots left his vision, he saw the digital camera in her hand.

  "Do you want to see the pictures we took?" she asked excitedly.

  "It depends. Did you finish your homework?"

  "The math part."

  "Then I'd love to."

  He followed his daughter to the kitchen, trying not to think about the letdown he knew was coming—for him and his daughter.

  "Shit," Vanessa breathed.

  She sat in the passenger seat of Tom's rental, staring at the digital pregnancy test. All it said was Yes. What it should have said was No; No more dancing; No more modEricng; No more Eric.

  She couldn't put this on him. New kids were complicated enough in strong, stable families. She and Eric were just starting out as a couple. There would be jealousy and resentment from Julia, disagreements between all of them. And she couldn't count on Eric's feEricngs to remain the same when she was fat, hormonal, and unable to shave her own legs.