Always You by Lizzie Morton

 

 

 

Six

 

 

It takes longer than I anticipated to settle in at home, so I wind up pushing back my photo-shoots. It was optimistic booking them so soon after arriving, but luckily the clients are laid back and happy to delay them by a few days.

It’s surprising how time can get away from you, and before I realize, I’ve been home for over half a week. Half a week of being consumed by all things Brooklyn. My time’s been filled with unpacking, letting off steam running, catching up with old friends and spending time with my dad.

Finally, I feel like I’ve settled in, and I’m ready to face clients and get some good roots for work laid down. I book my first client of the day for mid-morning, as it’s an outdoor shoot and the light tends to be better around this time of day. Making sure not to be late, I arrive an hour early. Killing time before the shoot, I meander around Carol Gardens with my camera, attempting to get in the zone and familiarize myself with the area I’ll be working in shortly.

When I was younger, I’d spend hours wandering the streets of Brooklyn with the cheap digital camera my parents gave me for my fourteenth birthday. That was around the time I took a real interest in photography. It was the perfect hobby for someone as shy as I was at the time, someone who liked to stay off people’s radar and observe from the sidelines. It allowed me an insight into people’s lives and a view of the world that most don’t get to see. It still does. Even though it literally takes me all over the world, and sometimes life on the road can be lonely, it’s what I’m passionate about and what I’ve wanted to do since the moment I developed my first set of photos.

My first job in Brooklyn is with an up-and-coming blogger in the New York fashion scene. We spend hours moving from location to location and changing outfits and hairstyles with the rest of the team. Before I know it, it’s late afternoon and I get a message on my cell from Sophie asking if she and Zoe can come over for food later when I’ve finished working. I quickly shoot back that I’ll pick up some goodies from the local farmers’ market.

 

***

 

“Oh my God, Abby, it smells so good in here,” says Sophie, as she wanders into my parents’ kitchen-diner later that evening, after letting herself into the house with Zoe.

“I didn’t know you could cook. I thought we agreed on takeout.” Zoe seems anything but disappointed at the change in menu, as she begins picking at some of the food already laid out.

I swat her hand away. “It’s Italian. But we’ll end up having to get takeout if you keep eating it all. And most people learn to cook when they live on their own, how else would you eat?”

“Order takeout and eat cereal, obvs,” she replies and slumps down in a chair at the table.

Sophie snickers. “Clearly we didn’t get the growing up memo.”

“Clearly,” I repeat.

We’re interrupted when both my parents arrive, dropping their work gear by the door as my dad chuckles.

“Look what the cat dragged in … again,” he says.

“John be nice. Girls, it’s great to see you. It’s been too long,” says my mom, smiling warmly at them both.

She doesn’t attempt to hide the emotion shining in her eyes when she looks over at me. It’s the first time we’ve seen each other since I returned home, and it hasn’t felt right being here without her around. “Baby, come here,” she says.

I stumble and fall into her outstretched arms, as she envelopes me in the kind of hug only a mother knows how to give. Letting out a deep sigh, I feel the anxiety from returning home evaporate.

Zoe clears her throat. “It’s really great to see you again, Mr. and Mrs. West, but can we please tuck into the food or I swear I’m going to die of starvation?”

She throws her arms in the air and collapses across the table, to emphasize her point.

“Still dramatic I see,” mom chuckles, voicing the opinion of everyone in the room.

Once we’re settled around the table, the food is devoured, and the atmosphere is light and friendly. My parents aren’t exactly conventional. Dad works in the rock department for a major record label in Manhattan and Mom … I guess you could say she’s a bit off the wall, being that she’s a sex columnist. Between them both, they’re relatively chilled out.

“I swear, this is better than an orgasm,” Zoe groans with a mouth full of food.

Mom being mom responds before I get chance to tell her to be quiet. “Well, you’re clearly not getting the right kind of sex, Zoe.”

I begin choking on my last fork full of pasta. “Gross, Mom.”

“Tsk, always such a prude, Abby, you’d never know you’re my daughter.”

She smiles into her glass of red wine, knowing exactly how to push my buttons.

“No, really though,” Zoe continues, “if your photography ever tanks, you could totally try your hand at cooking. This is great.”

“Nice to know you have such faith in my career,” I reply.

“What’s got your panties in a twist? Or has nothing? Is that the problem?” she snaps.

“The food’s great, honey. Anyway …” Mom steers the conversation in another direction, “I saw Shaun the other week and he seemed excited that you’re back and going to be working with him.”

Zoe laughs into her glass of water. “I bet he was.”

Seriously what is her problem? I narrow my eyes in her direction. When I glance at Sophie, I notice she’s doing the same, unimpressed at the comments being made.

“Oh, he’s interested?” Mom looks like a little kid at Christmas, fueled with gossip regarding my love life.

“No, Mom, it’s work. Please remember I have a boyfriend. A boyfriend I’ve been with for four years.” I’m hoping the emphasis on how long we’ve been together will distract them from the idea of Shaun and I together. Silly me, they’re vultures.

“You mean on and off for four years,” says Zoe under her breath.

“Ah yes, Michael …” Mom has a funny look on her face, as if there’s a bad smell in the room.

“What’s that supposed to mean? And why are you pulling a weird face?” I say.

Really, I know why. It’s no secret that my family and friends aren’t Michael’s biggest fans. They’ve supported our relationship over the years but haven’t necessarily fallen in love with him.

“Nothing, sweetie.” She reaches into the middle of the table, opening another bottle of wine and filling her glass, refusing to meet my eye.

“We bumped into Jake the other night,” blurts out Sophie.

I put my head in my hands and groan, they know better than to mention Jake around my parents.

“Why am I even friends with you guys? I swear I need to sew your mouths shut or something.”

Both my parents look at me, without attempting to hide the alarm on their faces.

“You saw Jake?” Mom asks, looking a little paler than a few seconds ago.

All the humor has gone from the conversation.

“Yes, and before you ask, it was fine.” A small lie, but they don’t need to know the details.

“Okay.” Her response takes me by surprise, I expected her to pry more.

“That’s all you’ve got to say?”

She places her wine glass down on the table, and says, “You said it was fine, so I believe you. Your father has had some contact with him over the years for work. He’s a nice guy.” She purses her lips. “I will never understand what happened with the two of you.”

Hearing her speak positive about him seems wrong. When everything happened between me and Jake, her words were anything but. She went through the heartbreak with me.

“You’re not the only one,” I mutter.

I look at my plate and begin tearing chunks of bread apart, when the full extent of what she said registers. This time I turn towards my dad who has been unusually quiet. “What does she mean you’ve seen him for work purposes?”

He sighs. “We didn’t think we’d need to tell you, but things always have a way of coming out, so it’s best you hear it from me …”

Closing my eyes, I struggle to swallow thanks to the huge lump that’s formed in my throat, as I wait for what’s going to come out of his mouth next.

“The record label has been following Jake’s group for a while, and we’re in talks of a record deal. It’s not going to be an issue is it?” he asks.

Fuck. Of course, it’s an issue, not that I say this aloud. I’m seriously beginning to question whether everyone in my life is on another planet.

Quickly getting it together, I force a smile on my face. “Of course, it’s not going to be a problem. It’s not like we’re even guaranteed to see each other again. It’s one summer, and Brooklyn is a big place. If we do see each other, we’re adults now. We can be civilized.”

“Yeah, because that was evident the other night,” Sophie laughs, referring to our constant bickering after less than a half hour together.

“I was in shock and now I’m not,” I say, hoping she gets the hint to leave it. “Jake and I will spend the summer not seeing each other and everything will be fine.”

“I’m sure it will,” Dad says quietly. “But for that to work, you have to not want to see each other.”

Pretending like I haven’t heard his comment, I stand and begin clearing the table to signal that dinner and the conversation have come to an end. Sophie and Zoe both remain seated with their heads down, not daring to look me in the eye, while Mom does the opposite, watching me like a hawk.

It’s not until later, when I’m lying on my bed in my room, praying for sleep to come, that I find myself mulling over the conversation from dinner and wondering what the hell my dad meant. Jake and I clearly hate each other, so why would we want to be near each other?

Being back in Brooklyn was supposed to be about me gaining clarity, but if I thought running away from my relationship issues with Michael would give me a break, I was very wrong.

If I want this summer to go without a hitch, I need to stay away from all things Jake related.