Part 9 (2/2)
”How's it going?” she asked again.
”All right.”
”Your brother says you've been doing a whole lot of nothing.”
”Compared to a surgeon I guess I am doing nothing. I'm not saving lives. But yesterday I let Jake take pictures of me in my underwear.”
”Well that sounds like a good time, dear,” she replied. Either she wasn't really listening, or she wanted Jake to see me in my underwear.
”And what are you up to?” I asked.
”Oh you know, the usual,” she said. ”Just finished up some Zumba at the rec center.”
Zumba? Isn't that some kind of booty-poppin' dancing? What has gotten into her?
”Any news from your lawyer?” she asked.
”Not yet. She hasn't been able to find any hidden a.s.sets but she sent over a counter-offer and we're waiting to hear back.”
”Any offers on the condo?”
”No, not yet. We might have to rent it out until the market picks up. We've already lost money just having it vacant for one month.”
”That's a great idea. Just like you kids renting our place. It's working out for the best for all of us. Are you looking for work?”
”Not too much. But I've been helping a girl named Violet through Big Brothers and Big Sisters of America. I've also volunteered at a homeless shelter and donated a bunch of makeup and hair stuff.”
”Very good, dear. You sound like you're doing okay then. Hang in there. Your father wants to say hi. Here he is.”
”Hi there, Suns.h.i.+ne,” my dad said. ”You doing okay up there? Adam said you've been feeling pretty down. He's got us worried.”
”No, I'm okay, Dad. I got my hair and nails done and I'm feeling a lot better now.”
”He said you've been watching too much TV. If you're gonna sit around, why don't you do it outside by the pool? A little suns.h.i.+ne can go a long way, you know.”
”I know, Dad. I do try to get out there a few times a week.”
”Every day, Love. You should be out there every single day. And on the rough days when the sun doesn't do the trick, well, you've got a professional bartender for a roommate. Have him make you a margarita. That always works for me. It's five o'clock somewhere.”
Did my dad just quote Jimmy Buffet? I didn't know what had happened to the two of them. They used to be normal parents and now they were like ... happy all the time. Maybe the suns.h.i.+ne and waves really could change a person. Maybe I should have moved to Florida instead of ”A-Squared.”
There was a knock on my door. ”I gotta go, Dad,” I said quickly. ”Love you guys. Talk soon.”
I hung up the phone, got out of bed and opened the door.
Jake was standing there holding out an iced cappuccino from the coffee shop with his laptop tucked under the other arm. ”I couldn't wait any longer for you to get up and see these pictures. I worked on them all night.”
I opened the door wider to let him in, graciously accepted the delicious beverage and we sat down on my bed together. He opened up the files and started a slideshow. None of them showed my face straight on. There were a lot that showed my hair, but none of my face. He said it was better to show only the body because the women looking at the pictures (his target audience) could imagine themselves in the shot.
There were a lot of close-ups, too, especially of my b.u.t.t and my shoes. But they weren't Maxim-style photos. They were cla.s.sy and even a little innocent as innocent as underwear pictures can be anyway.
”Your face is in the original pics, though, so if you ever want me to make you some prints or a book or calendar I can.”
I snorted at the idea. I didn't imagine I would ever want a book or a calendar of myself in my underwear, and I knew for sure I wouldn't be putting a print over my mantle like Rebecca Dunbar. But I didn't say anything. I was too amazed by what I was seeing on the computer screen to even form a sentence.
I knew the girl in the pictures was wearing the same things I'd had on the day before but I still had a hard time believing it was me. He must be an amazing photographer because he really did make me look good.
”What do you think?” he asked.
”You must have edited the h.e.l.l out of these.”
He laughed. ”Why do you say that?”
”I don't know. I mean, I actually look all right.”
”I did edit the coloring on a few, but you looked good all on your own. Is it okay if I post them on my pages then?”
”Yep. As long as you don't tag me in any of them. It probably wouldn't look good if Caleb or his lawyer saw them.”
”Good point. And for every session I book for the next two weeks I'll give you half of the session fee. That should help cover the cost of your recent, um, slothic behavior.”
”Is slothic even a word?”
”I don't know, but I'm going to start uploading these,” he said as he stood up.
”Jake?” I asked as he was walking out the door.
He stuck his head back in. ”Yeah?”
”Thanks,” I looked down, feeling shy again, ”for making me feel better about myself and getting me off the couch.”
”No problem, Little Girl.”
After he left, I took my dad's advice, got into my bikini and took my drink and my tablet down to the pool. I'd finally given in to the tablet craze. I could play games, browse the web, listen to music, read books, and apply for jobs (if I was so inclined). I could even watch every single episode of Dawson's Creek right on my tablet through the Netflix app. It was a lazy and unmotivated person's dream, and I didn't know why I'd held out so long. Technology was my friend. And my dad might be onto something about the suns.h.i.+ne because I had a feeling it was going to be a great day.
CHAPTER ELEVEN.
By the time Jake got back from his afternoon senior portrait session, he had messages from nine people wanting to book Boudoir sessions! At $200 per session that could mean an extra $900 for me to put toward my credit cards! And it was only the first day! Jake said he wanted to celebrate by taking me out to dinner.
”I know a lovely Italian ristorante we could go to,” he teased.
”No thanks, smarta.s.s.”
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