True Colors (15 page)

I got to Eddee Lane's studio, and Mom insisted on coming in with me. Like Talisa Milan's mother sat in on every photo shoot she did. Whatever. Eddee didn't seem to mind she was there, but he did ask her to sit in the lobby while we went into the studio. Not like there would have been room in the studio for her. It was super tiny with cloth backdrops hanging from the ceiling and a dirty drop cloth on the floor. There was barely enough room for Eddee and me. He adjusted his camera on the tripod and told me to pick out some music. I picked out a country one because it was the only name I had ever heard of on his playlist. He said it was a good choice because she had a soothing voice.

“Okay, do you want to do your close-ups first?” he asked.

I nodded because my skin tends to get greasy quick and my hair falls pretty fast, so we might as well do the close-ups while I still looked fresh. He had me sit on this stool which was shorter on one side. I had to keep balancing myself so I wouldn't tip over. Plus, I had to act like I was having fun even though his studio smelled like pee and mildew. How glamorous. I'm sure Talisa always worked in places with the smell of dirty litter boxes in the air.

“Can we open a window? It's kind of hot in here,” I asked.

“Can't. Window's stuck,” he said. “Can you just tilt your head like — yeah. Perfect.”

I couldn't breathe. I felt like I was going to pass out, but I didn't want to land on the filthy drop cloth on the floor.

“Okay, let's have you lay on the floor now, so I can shoot you from above,” he said.

Crap on a cracker. Lay on a filthy rag? In my good jeans? Was he insane? I stood there for a second deciding how to tell him “No way,” when I realized it would get back to Delilah I was “uncooperative.” Bianca Laurel had been kicked off
American
Ingénue
for doing the same thing. The photographer on the show wanted her to pose while hanging suspended from the air, and she refused. I didn't blame her for not wanting to hang from the ceiling, but the judges had used it as an excuse to vote her off the show. So I got down on his filthy floor.

The afternoon went by slowly. Eddee had me pose outside in the freezing cold for a little bit, but he let me wear my coat for the shot, so it wasn't too bad. Still, I felt sick from the smell in his studio, and he was kinda weird. He made strange noises and talked to himself while he was shooting, and it was starting to freak me out. He took a million shots of me and then said we were done. I couldn't leave fast enough.

“It reeked so bad,” I said to my mother when we got in the car.

“Either he has fifty cats hidden away or he doesn't have a working toilet,” Mom said. “I kept going outside for fresh air while you were in there with him.”

I asked if I could call Devon, but Mom said it was almost dinnertime and I needed to study anyway.

“But I never do my homework on Saturday,” I said.

She went into this whole thing about how I had promised to be responsible if she let me model and blah, blah, blah. I said, “Forget it,” just to end the lecture. It wasn't fair I couldn't see my friends just because I was modeling. The world wasn't going to end if I failed a quiz. I thought about bringing up the fact I only had three days of school next week because of Thanksgiving, but she was in one of her “don't-mess-with-me” moods. So I stayed in all stupid weekend long. You always see pictures of supermodels dancing in clubs and hanging out with pop stars, but I couldn't go to the mall for, like, fifteen minutes.

****

On Wednesday, Mom started freaking about cleaning the house for Thanksgiving.

“This place is a dump. I want you to dust everything in the den. You know how sensitive your grandmother is to dust,” she said.

We didn't have to worry about cooking a meal because we were buying a pre-made turkey dinner with potatoes, stuffing (which only my grandma eats), and a pumpkin pie. The only thing we were making was sugar free gelatin for Grandma. Mom dusted and put new sheets on the pullout bed and I made the dessert, which took forever to stir. Mom usually does it because I always make it too gritty, but she was too exhausted from vacuuming.

Thanksgiving morning should be about watching parades in your pajamas and smelling pies baking. It should not involve your mother screaming at you to get ready and yelling, “You better not mess up your room, young lady,” and not even allowing you a simple glass of juice because you might mess up her precious kitchen. I'm sure Dad would love to know she was starving me for the sake of a clean kitchen.

We got to the grocery store a good ten minutes before they closed so I don't know what she was so worried about. Even if we didn't get the meal, we could have gone to a Chinese buffet down the street where they have the best fried rice in the world. We loaded the food in the car, and the stuffing stunk. We had to drive home with the windows open even though it was freezing out. Dad and Grandma didn't arrive until after twelve o'clock, and Grandma sneezed as soon as she sat down.

“Oh my… dusty,” she said. I thought Mom would kill her.

Dad put Grandma's suitcase in the den, but she took one look at the pullout couch and said it would bother her back. They all looked at me. Terrific. Grandma would probably die from a wheezing attack because I haven't cleaned under my bed since we moved in here. Dad helped Mom get dinner set up, and I sat with Grandma, who basically blew her nose and told me about my wonderful cousins.

“Lucy — oh so smart,” she said tapping my knee. “She's an honor student and captain of the swim team. Oh, and Bryan's going away to college next year. He wants to be a doctor, but a specialist — not like your dad.” She said the last part in a whisper.

I tried to focus on the football game, even though I was bored and had no idea what was going on. I'm sure Lucy would know since she's so smart. I bet she and Bryan have never gotten a C+ in math, and they probably get picked first in gym, too. Mom said dinner was ready and told us to wash up. Grandma came out of the bathroom and asked if we had some non-scented soap since she was allergic to the kind we had.

“Since when, Ma?” Dad asked. Mom just gritted her teeth and handed her a grubby bar of soap we kept next to the kitchen sink.

We sat down to eat, and Grandma asked how long we cooked the turkey. It was pretty obvious we had bought it, but she had to make mom come out and say it. Mom mentioned she got a new account at work and Dad said, “Great,” while Grandma asked if the onion in the stuffing was fresh or dried. Mom sighed and told her to check the container. After dinner, Mom told me to sit with Grandma, who had an envelope full of pictures to show me.

First, there was the wedding shower of some girl I was related to but wouldn't know if she mugged me on the street. Then there were pictures of the amazing Lucy and Bryan. I looked over and my parents seemed to be getting along, so I guess I could put up with the slide show a little longer. Grandma asked about how modeling was going, and I showed her my portfolio. Mom had sent her the picture from the newspaper, but Grandma asked if I had a school picture for her. I wanted to lie and say I was sick on picture day, but Mom had put out my photo. My picture was so gross. My skin looked greasy, and my forehead showed through my bangs because my hair was so pale. The school should have hired a professional photographer who did retouching. I said I wasn't sure where they were, but Dad overheard and said he wanted one, too, so mom got them out. Note to self: remove stuff like school pictures from under the mattress next time mom offers to put clean sheets on my bed.

Dad put the football game on, and Grandma said it must be hard for Mom and me to live here on our own. Mom said we were doing fine, but she looked like she swallowed something sour. It went on until Dad said he had been looking to transfer to one of the clinics in town. I was shocked my mother hadn't told me. I couldn't wait to talk to her alone.

Devon called later while we were watching a Christmas movie and asked if I could come over tomorrow because her parents were going to a tailgate party. I didn't want to leave since Dad was here so I asked if she could come here instead. Devon's mother wanted to make sure it was okay with my mom since it was a holiday, so I put her on the phone. I went into the kitchen as soon as Mom was off the phone.

“Why didn't you tell me Dad was looking for a job here?”

“He only mentioned it recently, and I don't think he's done anything about it yet,” she said.

“This is so great. He'll move here, and it'll be like old times.”

She sucked in her bottom lip and let it roll off her teeth. “I don't want you to get your hopes up.”

“What do you mean? Don't you want Dad to move here?” She didn't say anything, and I got mad. “I can't believe you. You made me move away from him and now he wants to—”

“It's not — I'm not keeping your dad from moving here. He can come here anytime he wants. I wanted him to move here in the first place,” she said.

My eyes were burning as I went to my room, which now smelled like Grandma's perfume. I came back out and sat on the couch. Dad asked if I wanted another cherry cola, but Mom said I didn't need any more soda.

“Laine, I was asking her. You want another soda, kiddo?” I nodded just to annoy her, and he refilled my glass. Around midnight, Mom said I should go to sleep since Devon was coming over tomorrow.

“But I want to watch the end of the movie,” I said.

Dad said it was almost over, which I knew wasn't true because I had seen it before.

“Do whatever you want,” Mom said as she went into the kitchen. Every once in a while I'd hear her slam something down on the counter. Dad leaned over and whispered we had to “stick together.” It was just like when I was little and he used to let me stay up to watch TV on Friday nights. It was only until eleven o'clock, but it was a big deal back then. He'd make white cheddar popcorn, and we'd all sit on the couch and eat. Until we got the new couch and then mom wouldn't let us eat on it anymore.

The movie ended, and I got up before Mom could say anything. I couldn't sleep (Mom would say it was because of the soda), and I went to go to the bathroom. I overheard Mom doing the loud whisper fighting they used to do back in Chicago when they thought I couldn't hear them. I went up to Mom's bedroom door.

“You come around and all of a sudden you're overriding me — it's easy to play Dad five times a year,” she said.

“Hey, I'm not the one who moved four hours away—”

“It always comes back to my job. I had to leave grad school to raise her while you got to go to medical school. Well, maybe I wanted to do something for me.”

So I ruined my mother's life. Wonderful. Dad argued/whispered back she was the one who had wanted to start a family right away. Great, so he didn't want me either. He said something about “unfair” and “roadblocks,” but he was better at lowering his voice than she was so I missed a bit. I went back to the den and cried into my pillow. My chest felt hot and tight like it did whenever they fought. Why couldn't I have normal parents who liked each other?

When I was in the second grade, my friend, Sadie Goodacre, found out her parents were getting divorced. I felt so bad for her, and I thought I'd die if my parents ever split up. I never thought I would have to go through it. Why couldn't they just work it out? Didn't they still love each other? Or did they regret the whole thing — including having me?

Sadie's dad got remarried the next year, and he and his new wife had a baby. Sadie never got to go to his new house, and her dad never came over to do stuff with her. What if my dad got remarried and had another kid and he wanted to be with his new family? Or what if Mom married Ronald and they had a kid and I was just a loser tagging along?

****

I woke up when I heard someone in the shower. I went into the kitchen where Grandma was making breakfast. She was making oatmeal, which isn't my favorite, but I mashed up some bananas with milk and sugar to make it taste better. Grandma asked me how school was going, and I said everything was fine because I didn't want her to know she had a dummy for a granddaughter. It would be such a shock after Lucy.

“Must be hard not having your dad around,” she said.

I was going to say we were doing okay, but I was always making excuses and saying everything was fine. No, I didn't mind not getting to see my dad, and no, I didn't mind if Tori ate the last slice of pizza or if Ericka bought the sweater I wanted. I was sick of being the one who always gave in. Ericka always said, “Landry won't mind,” because everyone thought I didn't care. I was sick of hiding what I was feeling. Of course, if I had said anything to Ericka or Tori they would have gotten mad at me, and if I told Grandma anything, then she'd tell my parents and they'd get into it again.

Dad came into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee. He ruffled my hair as he walked past me. “Sleep okay, kiddo?”

Actually, no. Your fighting kept me awake, and I spent most of the night crying and feeling sick.

“Yeah.”

“Devon's going to be here in a half hour,” Mom said coming into the room. She grabbed a piece of toast and started buttering it like she wanted to hurt it. I got up and noticed Dad was mashing up bananas in his oatmeal, too. I washed my hair, since it smelled like a wet dog from crying on it. My eyes started to fill up again while I was blow drying. My eyes looked red, and my skin was puffy. Normally, I wouldn't have cared since I felt like crap, but I didn't want Devon to see me like this so I put on some of Mom's mascara.

Devon brought over stuff to make cookies. We had a gingerbread man cookie cutter so I made a Colin cookie. Devon tried to make a Blake Alderson one, but she had to make his hair blue because we had no gray icing. I started to make pink icing to make an outfit for my Cadia doll cookie when she stopped me.

“No, make purple instead. Then I can make purple hip huggers for Blake,” she said.

“Since when does Blake Alderson wear hip huggers?” Dad asked.

“All the time,” she said.

“I must have missed it somehow. Landry, is this you?” he asked.

“It's her Cadia doll cookie,” Devon said. “Landry, you should do one of you for the Colin cookie.”

I rolled out more dough and started mixing the purple icing.

“How long are your dad and Grandma staying?” Devon asked. I said they were driving back Sunday morning. “I always thought you looked exactly like your mom, but you look like your dad, too,” she said. “Same eyes and chin.”

“Yup, but I don't have the butt chin.”

“The what?” she asked, and I pointed to the line my dad had in his chin. “Oh yeah. He looks kinda like the guy who played Blake's brother in
Vengeance of Fire
,” she said.

“I dunno. I guess.”

After Devon left, Dad asked me about my other friends.

“How's the soccer player?”

“Tori? We don't hang out much anymore,” I said.

“Why not? She seemed nice. She's an honor roll student, isn't she?” he asked.

“I've been hanging out with Devon and her friends. Devon's smart, and she got second place in poetry in the writing contest.”

“She seems nice, but you shouldn't neglect your old friends just because you meet someone new,” Dad said.

My grandma came in to say goodnight, and I asked Dad when he thought he might be able to transfer here. He started shifting in his chair.

“Well, it's not easy to find another clinic.” He stopped and looked at me. “You'd like it if I moved here? You and your mom wouldn't get sick of having me around?” He tried to make a joke out of it.

“Don't you want to live with us anymore?” Crap, my voice broke, and you could tell I was about to start blubbering.

Dad leaned his head against mine. “I know it's hard. It's hard for me, too, and I hate being apart from you guys, but—”

Tears were spilling down my face now. But what? Either he wanted to live with us or he didn't.

“Your mom and I need to work some stuff out,” he said.

I figured it meant one day they'd take me out separately and tell me while they both loved me, they were going to take some time away from one another and oh, won't the space do us all a lot of good? Well no, it sucked, and I was sick of this. I didn't want to scream, “Make a decision,” and have them say, “Okay, let's get a divorce,” but this waiting and wondering stunk, too. Everything had been fine, and now it was all messed up again. I went to get ready for bed, but when I came out to say “goodnight,” I overheard Dad saying this was getting to me.

“Do we have to get into this right now?” Mom asked.

“Laine, I hate being separated from you guys,” he said. “I don't like leaving the clinic, but if I have to… but where would I live? I don't want to live in the same town and have to get an apartment somewhere.”

Something touched my arm, and I almost screamed. I whirled around and saw Grandma standing there with a finger to her lips. She led me back to the den.

“Let them try and work things out, honey,” she said, sitting next to me.

“I thought everything was back to normal after Dad was here last time. Mom was sad when he left and they talked on the phone all the time, but I guess she's mad because she had to quit school to take care of me.”

Grandma said my mom had wanted to take care of me. It didn't make me feel any better, but I told her it did. She gave me a kiss on the forehead and told me to go to sleep.