Authors: Dara Girard
He wondered about how easy and friendly their relationship was. There didn’t appear to be any competition between them. He’d always thought these happy families weren’t real—that they were staged, a trick of the light. But it was clear that they all genuinely cared for each other.
They had a special bond that was real and true. Ian felt like an intruder. At that moment he wished for the sanctity of his darkroom. The joy and beauty around him was almost painful. Like someone not used to light stepping out into the sun. After dinner as everyone gathered in the conservatory, Ian slipped outside. He stared out at the backyard, still showing signs of the setting sun over the grass.
Inside, Mariella watched him.
“I’d be careful of that one,” Velma said.
Mariella turned to her, surprised. “You don’t like him?”
“I didn’t say I don’t like him, I just said be careful.”
Mariella looked at Isabella. “What do you think?”
“He seems very nice.”
“How do you know?” Velma countered. “He’s hardly said anything.”
Alex who’d been quietly watching the exchange spoke up. “I don’t think it’s fair to pull the poor guy to shreds in his absence. He didn’t come to get analyzed.”
Isabella smiled at her husband then blew him a kiss. “I love you. You’re still so young and innocent.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Why else would Mariella have brought him here?”
Alex looked blank then began to understand. “Oh.”
“So what do you think?”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Well, I think he’s a good guy except for one thing.”
“What?”
“I question his taste in women.”
Isabella picked up a couch pillow and threw it at him. “Go away.”
He stood up and laughed. “With pleasure.”
Once Alex had left the room, the women resumed their discussion. “It isn’t about what we think, dear,” Velma said. “It’s what you think.”
“She loves him,” Isabella said. “It’s obvious to me.”
Velma looked grim. “Then you’ve chosen one strange man to fall in love with. I’m not saying there’s anything clearly wrong with him. He’s attractive.”
“He’s
gorgeous,
” Isabella said.
“Hey!” a male voice said from the hallway.
“Alex, stop listening in or I’ll describe in detail just how gorgeous I think he is.”
Alex stuck his head inside. “Go ahead.”
“Stop it,” Mariella said. “Let Velma finish what she was saying.”
Isabella nodded. “You’re right, go ahead, Velma.”
Velma straightened. “Yes, even though he’s attractive, and successful you must understand that you do not marry
that
man.”
Isabella glanced at Mariella, confused. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that you can marry a man who is loyal to his employees and disloyal to his wife. A man who is attractive to the world and ugly to his family. Mariella, if you are in love with this man I hope you’ve fallen in love with the
man
and not just the image he gives you. Because he seems the type of man who is adept at showing the right image.”
“People misunderstand him. He really is kind and smart and…you remember those pictures of children that I have over my bed? He took those pictures when he was younger.”
Velma took her hand. “Yes, but that was when he was younger. What is he like now?”
Isabella jumped to her feet. “I’ve got an idea.”
The two women looked at her. “What?”
“Kati and I are going to go for a walk.”
O
utside, Ian stood mesmerized by the sight of a family of rabbits. He didn’t hear Isabella at the door until she spoke. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he said, noticing that she held Kati’s hand.
“We’re going for a walk to take some pictures,” she said, gesturing to the camera in her other hand. “Dad used to do that with us all the time. You might like it. Would you like to come?”
“No thanks.”
She sent him a considering look then rubbed her arms. “Brr, it’s a little colder than I thought.” She quickly retreated inside. “I’d better go get a jacket. Could you just watch her for a moment? I’ll be back in a second.” She handed him the camera, then dashed back inside before he could reply.
Ian looked down at Kati, who stood desolate on the porch. She looked up at him, her eyes filling with tears. Then her face crumpled up.
Dread gripped him. “No, please don’t do this to me.”
She let out a big wail.
Ian looked helplessly at the closed door. “Mommy’s coming back. Don’t cry.” He knelt down in front of her. “Please don’t cry.”
She didn’t hear him, filling up her little lungs for another wail.
He lifted the camera. “Would you like me to take your picture? Huh? I’ll take your picture so you can be like Aunt Mariella?”
The name of her aunt seemed to catch her attention. Her crying immediately stopped, becoming sniffles.
He waved the camera. “Do you want your picture taken?”
She pointed to it. “Picwur,” she said. Although her pronunciation wasn’t accurate, Ian knew exactly what she meant.
Ian let out a sigh of relief. “Yes, let me take your picture.” He lifted up the camera and looked at her through the LCD monitor. Without any direction Kati placed her hands on her hips, posed and smiled.
He grinned, then snapped the photo. “You like getting your picture taken, don’t you?” He turned the screen to her so that she could see her image. She giggled.
At that moment Isabella appeared. “I’m sorry. Her jacket was buried in the closet.” She took Kati’s hand. “Come on, poppet.”
Kati defiantly yanked her hand away. “No.”
Isabella rolled her eyes. “They weren’t kidding you about the terrible twos.” She took her daughter’s hand again. “Come on.”
Kati tried to yank her hand free again. When she couldn’t she began to cry. “Picwur, picwur.”
Isabella stared down at her at a loss. “What?”
“She wants her picture taken,” Ian said.
“Of course you would, you vain little thing. All right.” She gave Ian a knowing look.
Soon Kati was all smiles again. She ran in front of Ian and took a striking pose looking out from behind an evergreen. Ian looked at Isabella and shrugged.
“Go ahead. As you have discovered, she loves having her picture taken.”
He did. “She’s beautiful.”
“Shh, we’re trying to keep it a secret from her.”
Ian laughed as Kati struck another pose. “I think she already knows.”
“She loves fashion and pictures of her Aunt Ma-La-La. She hasn’t gotten ‘Mariella’ down yet.”
Ian took more pictures of her playing in the front lawn picking up buttercups then throwing them up in the air and laughing when they fell on her face, falling back on the ground and twirling around, her joy contagious.
From a distance Mariella and Velma watched them.
“I suppose he has possibilities,” Velma said, watching Ian tuck the bouquet of buttercups Kati had given him in his jacket pocket.
“Yes,” Mariella said softly. “I think so.”
Kati glanced up. When she saw Mariella, she ran over to her and grabbed her hand then pointed at Ian. “Picwur. Picwur.”
Mariella lifted Kati up in her arms. “That sounds like fun.” She winked at Ian. “Can you manage two beautiful people?”
He clicked the shutter button. “I’ll do my best.”
For the next half hour, he took pictures of Mariella with Kati and some with Isabella, although she preferred not to be in the picture. When he had finished, Ian knelt next to Kati, who had been standing patiently to see herself and showed her all the pictures.
“You’re amazing,” Isabella said next to him. “These are very good.”
“You could send these to a modeling agency,” Mariella said.
“Kati is not going to model.”
Mariella shrugged, unperturbed. “Just a thought.”
“But I definitely have to have them framed. They’re works of art.”
“More, more,” Kati demanded.
Isabella shook her head. “No more. That’s enough now.”
“No. I want picwurs!”
“We are going to go inside.” Isabella bent down until she was at eye level with Kati. “Now.”
Kati scrunched up her face, tears building in her eyes.
“And if you cry, I’ll tell Aunt Mariella not to tuck you in.”
Kati folded her arms then marched into the house. Isabella watched her, shaking her head, then looked at her sister. “Does she remind you of anyone?”
Mariella feigned innocence. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Ian grinned. “I do.”
Moments later, he was sitting in the living room trying to blend into the background as Velma, Mariella and Isabella talked in the kitchen when Kati came up to him with a ribbon and brush then turned and sat down in front of him. He stared down at her perplexed; when he didn’t move she looked up at him and smiled and said, “Make me pwitti.”
He still wasn’t sure what that meant, but when Alex came in and saw them he explained. “She wants you to put the ribbon in her hair.”
Ian shook his head. “Go ask your mommy.”
She frowned. “No.”
Ian glanced at Alex. “She really likes that word.”
“Yes,” Alex said. “But the ribbon means she likes you.”
“But I don’t know how to put a ribbon in a little girl’s hair.”
“She doesn’t care. I do it wrong all the time.”
Ian scratched his head then said, “You’re going to regret this, little one.” He pulled up her braids and wrapped them in a bow. “There. You’re done.”
She jumped up to her feet. “Daddy, I’m pwitti.”
“Yes, you are.”
She skipped out of the room announcing how pretty she was.
Alex laughed. “We’ll tell her about having a good personality later.”
Isabella came into the room holding Kati’s hand, with Mariella behind her. She looked at Alex surprised. “Did you do this?”
Alex shook his head then pointed to Ian. “He did.”
Ian moved uncomfortably. “She asked me to.”
“I’m impressed,” Isabella said. “She looks lovely, where did you learn to do that?”
“Watching my mother with Candy.”
“Candy?”
“Yes, uh…a close friend of hers. She likes to do her hair all the time and I guess I picked up a few things.”
Isabella jerked a finger at her husband. “Perhaps you could teach him something. Every time she goes to Alex she ends up looking like a madwoman.”
“I do my best,” Alex said. “I’m not good with hair, but give me a good piece of wood and I can work miracles.”
“Yes, well it’s time she goes to bed.”
To everyone’s surprise, Kati didn’t protest. Instead she grabbed Ian’s and Mariella’s hands, determined that they would tuck her in.
They obliged and took her to her room. Kati jumped into bed and fell back. Ian stared at Mariella hoping to follow her lead; fortunately she knew exactly what to do and even listened to an unintelligible story Kati shared with her. When Kati glanced at him he managed a smile that seemed to satisfy her because she turned on her side and went to sleep.
After tea and dessert, Ian and Mariella headed back to the city. Alex and Isabella stood on the porch and watched their car disappear.
“What did you really think of him?” Isabella said.
Alex wrapped an arm around her waist. “He seems nice, but he didn’t say much.”
She rested her head on his shoulder. “Did you notice the way he looked at her?”
“That look of terror is normal.”
“He didn’t look at her that way.” She pinched him. “Be serious.”
He rubbed his side. “How do you think he looked at her?”
Isabella was quiet a moment then said softly, “As though he’d finally found something he was looking for.”
“I’m exhausted,” Mariella said, opening her front door.
Ian fell on the couch. “It’s a longer drive than you’d think.”
She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for coming with me.”
“You’re welcome.”
“And thanks for the pictures.”
“I’m glad you liked them.”
“I loved them.” She stood and pulled off her blouse. “I’m tired.” She unhooked her bra and grinned at him. “Could you tuck me in?”
Ian stood. “Certainly, little girl.”
She placed her bra around his shoulders and pulled him toward the bedroom. “Do you promise to tuck me in nice and tight?”
“Definitely.”
“And make sure that I’m safe and warm?”
He lifted her in his arms and walked into the bedroom. “Absolutely,” he said, placing her on the bed.
She undid his shirt. “And you’ll check for any monsters under the bed?”
“Yes.”
She pulled his shirt off. “And in the closet?”
“Yes.”
She pressed her lips against his. “Good.”
“Now there’s something I want to ask you,” Ian said, thinking this was the best time to ask her to marry him.
She brought him close and arched her pelvis toward him. “Ask me in the morning.”
He immediately responded. “But—”
“I’m not in the mood to talk.”
Soon neither was he.
Mariella woke up early the next morning and noticed her message light blinking. She took the message off and recognized it was from Todd Fitzgerald, the man who’d discovered her. “Hi Mariella. Sorry this is short notice, but I could really use your help. We want to promote a new project for a difficult client I’ve just signed with, and having you a part of the project would give us the recognition we need. I’m not sure we can pay you your usual fee, but we’ll come up with something. Let me know what you think.”
Ian came out of the bedroom. “What are you doing so early?”
“Todd, an old friend of mine, needs me for a modeling job.”
“Tell him you’re not available.”
“I’m not going to turn him down.”
Ian stilled. “I thought you weren’t going to model any more.”
“I’m doing a favor for a friend.”
Ian slowly nodded. “I see, and this is just once.”
“Yes.”
He sat down in front of her. “What if another friend asks you?”
She set her pen down and folded her arms on the table. “Would that be a problem?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“Whether I’m going to date a model or a photographer.”
“Because you don’t date models?”
“Exactly.”
“Oh, I see,” she said slowly, considering each word. “So I’m just a career to you. I’m not a woman.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to. You’re giving me an ultimatum. As a photographer I’m welcome in your life, but as a model I’m not. It doesn’t matter that I’m the same woman.”
“You won’t be the same woman. A career defines you. It links you to your past.”
“You mean it links me to your father. That’s the real problem. You’re Ian, the serious one. You date photographers and women of action. It’s your father who dates vacuous models and you don’t want to have any association with him.”
“Photographers don’t usually get their names in the tabloids. I want to live my life quietly.”
“We’ve already had our names linked in the papers.”
“I know but that will die down soon, but the minute you start modeling again the world feels they own you.”
“A few modeling jobs won’t change my profile. And this is just one job. I may do a few more down the road. I don’t know, but I won’t be dictated to or given ultimatums. I’m a grown woman. Now if you want to be in my life you’ll have to accept that.”
He stood. “I’m not sharing you with the world.”
“You’re not sharing me with anyone.”
“You say that now but you don’t mean it. I had to share Jeremiah with the world. I had to share Cathleen with her work. I want someone I can claim as my own. Completely mine. Someone with whom I don’t feel like I’m in second place.”
“You’re not in second place, but I’m not going to turn down a friend just to prove that. You’ll have to trust me.”
He grabbed his jacket. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”
She watched him head toward the front door, her heart sinking. “You can’t trust me?”
“No, I can’t go through this again.” He opened the door. “Goodbye.”
“Don’t.”
He turned to her. “What?”
“Every time we argue you walk away and close a door in my face. I hate that.”
“Fine.” He released the door handle.
“I just need to know one thing.”
“What?”
“Were you going to ask me to marry you last night?”
He looked ready to deny it then gave a terse nod.
“I would have said yes.” She hugged herself. “Sad, isn’t it?”
He took a step toward her. “It doesn’t have to be.”
“Yes, it does. Because saying ‘yes’ to you means saying ‘no’ to part of myself. I can’t do that.”
He backed away. “I understand.”
She shook her head, heartbroken. “No, you don’t and that’s the saddest part of all.”
“Thanks for doing this,” Todd said at the end of the shoot.
Mariella only nodded.
Todd watched her, concerned. She’d been professional throughout the shoot. Arriving on time, doing as instructed although Mariella rarely needed any instruction. She was a natural in front of the camera and could exude any mood required of her. But she seemed less vibrant than usual. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” she said, gathering her things.
“Because if you’re interested in restarting your modeling career I know of an agency…”
She vehemently shook her head. “No, that’s not it.” She softened her tone. “But thanks.”
“Hey, I’m always here for you.”
She smiled sadly. “I wish all men were like you.”
“If you’re having men troubles there’s only one cure.”
“What?”
“Work.”
Mariella took his suggestion to heart. She buried herself in work and traveled. She spent a week in France, then Portugal and flirted with as many men as she could, getting a number of proposals. When she returned to the States she felt renewed. Thoughts of Ian always brought pain, but she was careful not to let them enter her thoughts too frequently. No man would claim her. She was a free woman and that was the way it would always be. She couldn’t wait for the gallery opening in less than three days; then she’d never have to deal with Ian Cooper again.