Virtue & Vanity

by Astrid Jane Ray

  The journalist scribbled something with a pen, and then glanced at the other paper in her hands which probably held scripted questions she was supposed to ask me. She lowered her glasses and the moment her eyes returned to me, she folded the document, putting it aside.

  “And what in the God’s name possessed you to write such a story?”

  People had asked that question before and many times, but never with such straightforward bluntness that managed to catch me off guard.

  “What inspired me,” I corrected in a calm voice, “to write this book was a spur of the moment feeling and once I started writing, I just couldn’t stop. There’s really nothing much more to it.”

  “Has your husband read the book?” she asked in a quick, flat voice.

  I took a deep breath and kept a composed act, even though I was starting to get annoyed.

  “I think you already know the answer to your question, but yes, he has read it.”

  “Personal involvement, perhaps?”

  I arched my eyebrows, making a mental decision that was the first and last time I had conducted an interview in my home. I had a good hunch the interviewer wanted to get some juicy details about my personal life, rather than discuss my book.

  “I don’t think I understand where you’re—”

  The screech of the large door interrupted me and I turned towards the direction of the noise. The boiling anger I was about to spill on the rude woman in front of me, receded the moment I saw my little angel.

  “Mommy, Mommy.” My daughter ran straight into my arms and I hugged her tightly, pulling her up on my lap and turning her towards me.

  “Hey, sweetie.” I brushed off the locks of light, curly blond hair from her eyes and kissed her forehead. “Where is Aunt Ashley? She was supposed to look after you.”

  Adorable little eyes with the unmistakable, beautiful shade of green widened as she started laughing and I knew there was trouble.

  “Shh,” she put her tiny finger on my lips and started whispering. “We’re playing hide and seek. Daddy told me to hide here.”

  “Oh, did he?” I rolled my eyes and thought about Sebastian’s never-ending pranks.

  He loved spending time with his daughter so he worked from home most days, but the two of them were always coming up with different ways to play tricks on everybody around them. I was lucky to have Ashley around because at times it seemed she was the only person who could keep them at bay. Over the years, she had turned into a wonderful young woman and I was really proud of her. She was studying at the dance academy in New York and lived with us since she’d turned eighteen.

  The reporter cleared her throat to remind us she was still there. “This is your daughter Hope?”

  “Yes,” I said reluctantly, feeling bad about having my daughter present during an interview even I wanted to get away from.

  The moment she heard the woman’s voice, Hope started squirming in my lap and turning to face the woman. Her curious eyes took in her fancy appearance before she addressed her.

  “What is your name?” she asked in a sweet voice.

  The woman smiled dryly. “My name is Elizabeth. What is yours?”

  “You know my name.” Hope giggled. “You said it. It’s Hooope Emerett.”

  The playfulness in her voice and the fact that she still couldn’t pronounce her last name correctly made us all laugh.

  “Everett,” I whispered to her softly.

  “Em-Emerett,” she repeated the wrong name again.

  It was adorable.

  “That’s a pretty name. And how old are you, Hope?” The reported finally seemed to relax.

  She became shy and sought refuge in my embrace. I pulled her closer and whispered in her ear. “Come on, Hope. Tell the lady how old you are.”

  I stroked her pretty hair and she became lively again.

  “I’m—” She counted on her small fingers and then proudly raised her hand. “This old.”

  “Four years?” The woman asked.

  “Uh-hmm.” Hope nodded.

  “You’re very smart for your age.” The British accent seemed to have become even more apparent in her voice.

  “You talk funny,” my bright little girl concluded. “Where you come from?” I could barely suppress a chuckle because as it turned out, suddenly the reporter herself was the one who was being interrogated.

  “I am from England,” the woman replied.

  “My auntie Jane lives there,” Hope offered and I nudged her softly.

  If there was one thing Hope wasn’t shy about, it was talking to people, even if they were strangers. It was a habit that was impossible to break.

  “Your youngest sister?” The reporter returned to our interview.

  “That’s right,” I admitted with reluctance.

  When our mother died from a heart attack, not shortly after Hope was born, Jane was offered the same privilege as Ashley, but she declined, opting for a private school in England instead.

  “Talking about your family members, some of them didn’t respond too kindly on your aspirations to become an author. Your sister-in-law has been spreading rumors that might reveal the true motives behind your book.”

  I knew what she was doing. She was trying to provoke me again and get me to talk about Dianne whose public attempts to humiliate me had gotten only worse since Caleb divorced her.

  “I’m not sure what you mean, but just like everything else, liking a book is a personal preference.” I opted for a diplomatic reply.

  “A girl from Rosemont married to a New York millionaire—” The reported cleared her throat and smiled slyly. “One of us wasn’t born yesterday.”

  “Hey,” my daughter raised her voice and started fidgeting in my lap. “You can’t talk to my mommy like that!”

  Apart from her distinctive emerald eyes, the one thing Hope inherited exclusively from her father was his unyielding temper and sophisticated attitude that demanded respect and obedience.

  Suppressed laughter sounded through the room and I didn’t have to look to know that Sebastian and Ashley were standing by the door, enjoying Hope’s little show. The interview turned out to be a complete disaster, but I didn’t mind. It was kind of refreshing to see Elizabeth squirm because of the trouble Hope gave her.

  The second she spotted him, Hope jumped from my lap and ran straight into Sebastian’s hug, sweetly scowling at him for letting Ashley find her when he’d promised he wouldn’t tell. One adorable apology was enough to make her forgive him. My eyes froze on the sight of my two angels who hugged each other lovingly. I looked towards Ashley and we smiled at the beautiful scene in front of us.

  They whispered something and Hope giggled as Sebastian tickled her tummy. Suddenly, she turned towards Elizabeth and pointed a finger at her.

  “Daddy, she was being rude to mommy! She said...She said—”

  “Shh,” Sebastian gently warned her to be quiet and then he narrowed his interrogating gaze at Elizabeth.

  I knew he was joking, but Elizabeth seemed unnerved all the same. It was a trait Sebastian would probably never lose—the ability to intimidate people. I shook my head and giggled at the memory of times I used to be scared of him. Now, he could glare at me impatiently all he wanted, but he was always the one who ended up giving in. I enjoyed those moments, knowing exactly how special they were because only I and our little Hope could get him to act that way.

  “Well, I think we’re done here, Mrs. Everett. It was a pleasure to talk to you,” she blushed and offered me her hand before she headed outside.

  She nodded at Sebastian and smiled at Hope, then hurried towards the front door together with Ashley who was seeing her out.

  Sebastian looked my way and we laughed simultaneously at the unusual scene that had taken place only moments ago. Hope joined our laughter and Sebastian picked her up in his arms and then walked towards me. Every time I met the depths of his mesmerizing eyes I saw that sparkle of light. I saw love that was so strong it could never die.


  “Here’s your little assistant.”

  Sebastian slowly placed her back on my lap and then knelt next to me, embracing us with his wide arms and all the beauty of the world poured itself into this moment we shared with our little angel. I was at ease because I knew that nothing could ever touch the perfection of our life. It was built on foundations of love and trust. In the seven years we’d been married, Sebastian had continued showing what a sweet and caring man he was. Just like he had said, he was filling my days with countless moments of love and happiness. There was no other place I would rather be than right there, in that beautiful house surrounded by the people I loved more than anything in the world. And it wasn’t just a house. This was a place where I belonged. This was my home. This was paradise.

  About the author…

  Astrid Jane Ray is an author who likes writing anything from poems to short stories and novels. Being a hopeless dreamer, she isn't limited to any particular genres, although she is desperately addicted to dark romance novels.

  Her style is best described as a mixture of dark, angst filled drama which is followed by the slow development of love and redemption.

  More than writing, she likes to read and her idea of a perfect day is a good book combined with a cup of hot tea and preferably rain. Currently, she resides in The Netherlands but dreams of moving near the sea, where she could spend her days writing and taking pleasure in the joys of a never-ending summer.