Chapter 14 Invited
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
invited
REY
The toast pops up, sending Beanie into another frenzy. He runs out of the kitchen, through the living room, into the hallway and up the stairs. He’s small for a Frenchie, but he’s bloody loud.
As I clatter about in the fridge, looking for butter, I hear the sliding door between the kitchen and hallway open. The sound reverberates off the hard surfaces in my brother’s combined kitchen and dining room.
I peek out from the fridge.
“Hey, Mum.”
She and Dad live on the other side of Victoria Park, and they pop over as part of their morning stroll every Saturday and stay well past midday. But because Mum cooks for us all, Xander never complains.
“Morning,” she chirps. “Can I help with anything?”
I poke my head around the door of the fridge again. “Can you make a cup of coffee?”
“Sure.” Mum pats my head and brushes a hand through my long waves. “Why are you hiding in the fridge?”
“Looking for butter.”
She points past my face to the top shelf.
“I’ll help,” she says. “You make the coffee. What are you having on top of the butter?”
“More butter.”
She meets my eye, and I give a small shrug. “It’s what I feel like having.”
“My goodness,” she mutters under her breath. “You need some nutrition, you look pale.”
“Wow, thanks, Mum. I get quinoa salads and fruit at the office every day. They take care of me.” Free lunch is a perk I didn’t know about until this week.
“Fine, butter it is.” She takes the container from me and gestures for me to work the simple capsule coffee machine she never can be bothered to try out.
A large bang startles us as the front door slams and brisk footsteps sound in the tiled hallway before my brother bursts through the sliding door.
“Fuck,” he breathes, huffing, his moist trainers squeaking on the tiles.
“Alexander!” Mum hisses.
“Sorry, Mum. I’m beat.” He leans on his knees and breathes heavily. I pour him a glass of water from the tap, and he walks around the kitchen island to get it, raking a hand through his sweaty brown waves.
“You know, your brother is telling me you have been drawing lately. Are you going to paint again?”
“I don’t know,” I say and sip my coffee.
Wait for it.
“Oh, darling, I wish you would try to succeed at something. Are you going to work your way up from an assistant at least?” she asks.
There it is.
“I don’t know, I quite enjoy it. Take it easy, will you?” I haven’t found a way to explain my move from assistant to intern yet without revealing I’d lied before. Easier not to say anything at all.
Mum makes an indecipherable sound that could resemble a scoff covered by a cough. “Don’t take that tone with me, please. I’m only trying to look out for you.”
I turn away and roll my eyes. I’m well aware I’m the least successful child, and Mum has treated me as such ever since I chose not to study finance, like my banker brother.
And before being the least successful, I was just the youngest. Mischievous little Rosemary. I sure was a self-fulfilling prophecy.
She sidles up next to me. “Are you sure about living here?” she whispers. “I’m sensing Alexander wants to have his privacy. Maybe you should come live with us.”
“I’m fine here. We’re fine,” I answer, nodding discreetly toward my brother, who’s plonked down on a chair in the living room. “And soon enough I will get a place of my own.”
There’s no way I’m moving in with my parents. I’m going to celebrate my thirtieth birthday in October under my own sodding roof. Rented, sure, but mine.
“Your father and I have talked. We can scrape together some savings to help you get a proper education.”
“Mum!” I hiss. “I. Am. Good. Stop trying to decide what success looks like for me.” I grit my teeth.
We leave it there. Not because she cares about what I think, but because I stuff a buttered toast in my mouth and turn away from her. The sound of her striding across the tiles tells me she’s done for the moment, and she’s ready to retreat to the living room.
There’s a loud thud from upstairs.
“Beanie!” I shout through the open door to the hallway, my words muffled by the toast. It sounds like he’s spinning around in the bedroom. Ah, well. At least he doesn’t chew my things anymore. Sniff, yes. Lick, definitely. But no more shredding.
The insides of my shoes are often soaked with saliva, but at least they’re whole.
After practically inhaling my toast, I need to tend to the thundering dog upstairs. Beanie’s snorting is now on the landing, accompanied by the thumping sound of whatever he’s playing with. I walk into the hallway.
“Bean,” I shout again, and I’m about to go upstairs when my phone buzzes on the dresser next to me. I turn abruptly, the hairs on my neck standing as I pick it up.
It’s Robin!
I’m so sorry I’ve been quiet. It wasn’t my intention to ghost you… I was wrestling with some priorities
And who won? I don’t watch wrestling, but someone typically wins, right?
I always win
Does it mean I win too or are you texting to tell me it’s over?
I look up to find I’ve wandered into the living room where the family is relaxing. Dad with his crossword puzzle. Mum, with her reading glasses on the tip of her nose, prodding her phone with a finger. Probably rereading old gossip blogs.
I leave them to it and slink into the kitchen to finish my coffee and stare at my phone until Robin answers.
Beanie rumbles down the stairs, and I hear him running into the living room.
“Hello, Beanie!”
Mum’s voice carries far, her fawning over him, telling him how cute and lovely he is. It’s impossible not to love that happy little fur ball.
I throw back the last sip of coffee. My phone vibrates again, making my heart skip a beat.
I can’t stop thinking about you. That shape of yours. That laugh. You’re right. You’ve spun me off my axis
Come with me to the Mesmeric Mystique at The Orion tonight
The Orion again? Shit, he must think I’m a member. Did I let him think that? I guess there’s no reason I shouldn’t be. Most guests at the events I model at don’t know we’re working there.
What the fuck do I tell him?
“What have you got there?” Dad’s voice sounds. There’s a faint buzzing noise.
Just as I round the corner, my parents stoop over Beanie; I’m guessing they’re trying to see what he’s playing with on the floor.
I move closer. The hair on my neck stands up. I recognise that buzzing noise, but why?
“What is this?” Mum prods.
Beanie jolts, flinging the thing he was playing with up in the air and it lands with a thud.
Fuuuuuck.
Mum gasps.
The bright pink colour and long shape is instantly recognisable. It’s my damned vibrator!
Oh God, did I leave it out in the bedroom?
Beanie runs off into the kitchen with a huff, as if he’s just remembered he left the stove on.
He doesn’t know what he’s left behind on the floor, but my parents bloody well do. Against my will, my eyes meet Mum’s. She’s doing the wide-eyed, bulging stare.
It’s the glare that says I’m not good enough. The one that makes me shrink. It’s how she always looked at me when I wore dresses that were too short, or when I was twelve and asked about sex. My friend’s parents’ hidden porn DVDs taught me what it was. She never dared to.
Now, the fact that I am a woman with needs and a thriving libido (particularly after meeting Robin) is right there on the carpet, and I hate that she makes me feel ashamed about it.
“Oh, bugger,” Dad mutters and turns back to his puzzle. He’s an expert at pretending nothing is happening around him. Classic. Xander mimics him, although he’s got the same red cheeks I get when I’m embarrassed.
I can feel them now. So hot it’s prickling my skin.
“Rose-ma-ry,” Mum forces the word out through clenched teeth. “Please. Remove. The … thing.” She strains as if the dildo on the floor is causing her physical pain.
With a mix of incredible embarrassment and annoyance at my mum’s dramatic reaction, I pick up the source of our collective shame.
I stomp upstairs like the teen she treats me as, and Beanie zooms up from behind me, almost trampling me down as we both reach the landing.
“Thanks, you little devil,” I mutter to the fur monster, but feel bad instantly. He doesn’t know.
I sit down on the bed and throw the dildo into the bedroom drawer.
Fuck.
Sinking down the side of the bed, onto the carpeted floor, I pull my legs up and wrap my arms around myself.
I hate how she makes me feel so small, so ashamed about who I am and what I enjoy doing.
Despite my mum, I’m happy in my skin, and I can stand by my choices.
Do I wish I could still paint? Yes, and maybe I will again, but I didn’t want to paint the way she kept pressing me to. I didn’t care whether it would open more doors or align with the style of certain galleries.
All I cared about was her fucking approval, but she pushed it too far and shattered my joy of creating. Now, it seems everything I do is wrong. I’m getting further and further away from being whatever it was she envisioned for me.
Beanie trots over to me, his little paws making the familiar ruffling noise on the carpet. He snorts and puts his head on my lap. My hand travels over his soft fur and the little folds in his neck. His big brown eyes find mine, and it soothes me.
“You love me for me, right, Bean?”
He makes his funny mix of a bark and snort. Boof. He agrees.
“Do you think I should tell Robin who I am?”
Boof.
“Hmm. You’ve always been the wise one of us.”
Boof.
“Alright, don’t toot your own horn.”
He yawns, curling his long tongue.
“Tell me about it.”
We sit like that for a while. His warm, soft body curled up close to me. Head in my lap.
Beanie gives me the boost of courage I need to pull my phone out of my pocket and type my response to Robin. Now more than ever, I want the company of someone who doesn’t judge me. Someone who makes me feel good. But it means I need to tell him the truth. And if he still wants me, I’ll say yes.
I would love to meet you there, but you need to know I’m not a member. I was there as an atmosphere model. My shift was over when we met, but I had been working there that night. I’m not a VVIP
I hold my breath, watching the three dots move.
Thanks for being honest. You can join as my guest if you still want to
My heart soars with relief. He still wants to see me!
I’d love to, what’s Mesmeric Mystique and when to meet? Do I dress up in a costume again?
It’ll just be us. It’s a private sensory experience that ends with a small meal. It’s on the first floor, the hostess will guide you in. I’ll meet you inside as Robin and you’re invited as Alice. It’s all in the dark, no need for costume. Tonight at 8pm
Okay, so he won’t see me, it sounds like? It’s all in the dark? Maybe it’s better. I can just be the bold, sexy Alice he met, and leave behind this knot of shame in my stomach.
I’ll be there