Chapter 6
Nina
Everyone keeps talking about how nice it is to finally get a vacation.
To be totally honest, it hasn’t felt like much of a vacation for me so far.
While my family spent the morning exploring some of the local hiking trails, I stored everyone’s suitcases for them and organized a grocery pickup so there will be plenty of food around for my cousins to eat.
(And believe me, preteens and teenagers can eat.) Then I had to help everyone get ready for the “family package” video we’re going to film.
For each Mountainette, the producers are putting together a short video of her with her family to show her background and where she came from.
Even though the video will only be about two minutes long, we spent all afternoon getting ready.
I had to help the twins straighten then curl their hair, then spend more time finding Isaiah a suitable replacement for his dress shirt after he spilled orange juice all over the front.
All of that sounds like a lot of whining, I know.
If I’m thinking positively and with a heart full of gratitude, I’m sure there are perks to being here in Green Valley.
Like . . . at least I won’t have to clean the church building for the next eight weeks.
That will definitely feel like a vacation for me!
There was very little time left to get myself ready for the family package, but that doesn’t matter so much.
I’m sure I’ll only be in the background anyway.
I’m not planning on wearing anything special—just one of my long floral skirts, a button-up dress shirt, and my best, softest cardigan.
I’m sure that’s not exactly what the producers mean by being “TV ready,” but it’s what I have available.
If it were up to me, I’d probably wear something different.
I’ve been really into A-line silhouettes lately, so maybe I’d do something with that pattern.
A simple material, since that shows up best on camera—and a bold color, maybe, with minimal print.
High heels, to give my silhouette some length.
A shade of lipstick that doesn’t match with my dress but doesn’t clash, either.
But that’s all just wishful thinking. I haven’t bought a brand-new outfit since . . . maybe since I was eight? Everything has been secondhand since then, hand-me-downs from my cousins or thrift-store bargain finds.
Envy. I cut off that train of thought quickly. I’m happy and I’m healthy and I’m fed and I have shelter. Anything else is just icing on the cake of life.
When Lyle arrives at the suite, he brings the same boisterous energy from yesterday. “Millers!” he calls enthusiastically as he enters the sitting area. He meets my gaze and gives a slight nod. “And Delgado.”
People don’t usually single me out when I’m with my family.
I’m usually just the shadow in the room, the one they pretend not to notice, unless I’m serving food or drinks.
Maybe because I crave attention and praise—at least, according to many of the sin accounts given to me by my aunt at the end of each month—I can’t help but like Lyle, even though I know he’s going to rub my uncle the wrong way.
Between his innate cheerfulness and his penchant for pastels, it’s a real toss-up for what’s going to get Uncle Aaron’s goat more.
“Aren’t we all looking snazzy?” Lyle asks, and Uncle Aaron doesn’t bother to hide his grimace at the word.
Lyle quickly walks us through the filming process—how we’ll be shooting in various locations around Green Valley, how we should pretend we don’t notice the cameras unless we’re being directly interviewed.
How they’ll set up separate times for filming those one-on-one interviews, which are called “confessionals,” even though we might not film them until long after we shoot the outdoor sequences.
It will all depend on what the producers decide they need to develop the narrative.
I can’t help but find it all fascinating, even though it’s obvious all of the showbiz lingo is grating on Uncle Aaron’s nerves.
He’s no stranger to lights and cameras, since he often broadcasts his sermons and has to deal with all of the production elements that go along with that.
But Uncle Aaron also has an innate dislike of anything to do with “Hollywood.” That’s his catch-all term, meaning anything ranging from show business to progressive social politics.
“Hollywood’s at it again,” he might grumble to himself if he sees a commercial with strong sexual undertones, or even something as benign as a same-sex couple holding hands.
I truly, sincerely hope that Lyle and Uncle Aaron don’t get too much one-on-one time together. I have a feeling that would not go well for anybody.
Finally, it’s time for us to head out. “All right, Millers!” Lyle encourages us. “I know you have a big crew, so it might be easiest if we all just caravan. I’ll lead and you can follow—”
We all stand up. I brush my hands over my skirt, wishing the floral print wasn’t quite so big. It’s going to look terrible on camera. Not that my tight braid or oversized dress shirt will look much better. Vanity, I remind myself. Today isn’t about me. It’s about Harmony.
I move to follow my cousins out of the room when Uncle Aaron gives me a little shake of his head, almost like an afterthought. “Not you, Antonina.”
My stomach clenches, anticipating the blow a second too late, before I feel a familiar queasy sensation, like I’ve been spun around in circles too many times and can’t properly orient myself.
This isn’t the first time Uncle Aaron has humiliated me in front of a group of people, but somehow it always takes me by surprise.
Somehow I always trick myself into thinking, This time will be the last time. That it won’t happen again.
“It will just be too confusing to explain the family dynamics,” Uncle Aaron says calmly, without any trace of rancor in his voice, but without any suggestion that he can be budged on this issue, either. “And this is Harmony’s big day.”
I wince, even though I immediately understand what he means.
Aunt Hope is darker than the others, but with her dyed blonde hair, she can pass for maybe being European, or just really tan.
There is no question that I’m Hispanic and that I don’t fit in with everyone else.
Having me in the mix on television would mean we’d either have to take time out of Harmony’s story to explain who I am, or invite lots of questions online.
Either way would take the attention away from Harmony and put it onto me—the very thing that Uncle Aaron is always challenging me not to do.
I never intentionally try to take attention away from Harmony, or anyone else for that matter.
I never want anyone to notice me if I can help it.
But even without meaning to, even without trying to, it seems like I’m always doing something to make myself the center of attention, and therefore even more of a burden on my family than I already am.
So I understand why Uncle Aaron is telling me to stay behind. I just wish he would have told me before, not in front of everyone like this.
Aunt Hope is the first to recover from the surprise of Uncle Aaron’s announcement, but there’s a long enough pause that I know she hadn’t been informed of this decision beforehand either. “All right, let’s go. Everyone in their usual seats in the van—”
“I’m sorry,” Lyle interrupts, his head swiveling around to take in what’s happening in the room. “Is there a reason Antonina can’t come along?”
The edge in his voice tells me that he suspects enough to get to at least the surface-level truth of the answer—that I don’t look like the rest of my family—and that this is not an answer he likes or approves of.
It’s surprising to have an almost stranger try to stick up for me, and if I’m being honest, gratifying, too—but also terribly, terribly worrying, since I see the way Uncle Aaron’s eyes narrow.
The rest of his expression stays the same, but there’s a definite squint to his eyes now.
That’s never a good sign. He won’t take his anger out on Lyle because he’s a stranger, but later on there will be repercussions—probably for me, since I’m the one Lyle was defending, even though I didn’t ask for it.
To be clear, Uncle Aaron would never hit me or do anything physical to punish me.
Even when I was a kid, I didn’t get spanked for misbehaving, not like his own children.
His punishments are more creative. They’re designed to embarrass me, to pull me down when he feels like I’m getting too high. To remind me of my place.
I know Lyle means well, but I really, really wish he hadn’t said anything at all.
“Why don’t you worry about your show,” Uncle Aaron says in that quiet but authoritative voice of his, “and let me worry about my family?” He is smiling his handsome movie-star smile, but his eyes are cold.
Lyle clearly does not realize who he’s dealing with. “Why don’t you—” he starts, in a way that does not feel like the rest of the sentence is going to progress positively.
I quickly intervene. “I don’t mind! Really. I don’t want to be on camera.” I meet Lyle’s gaze, trying to show him how sincere I am. My skirt would clash, after all. And I don’t want to take anything from Harmony, ever. “Really. But thank you.”
A long, awkward pause follows. Then Uncle Aaron moves toward the door, a clear indication the conversation is over. Everyone else follows after.
Harmony lingers behind the others, casting me a regretful look. “I’m sorry, Nina. Maybe he’ll let you come out tomorrow and you can watch the first part of the filming?”
“Maybe,” I echo back with a smile, even though I highly doubt that will happen. Harmony probably doubts it, too, but she’s as powerless as I am to get Uncle Aaron to change his mind when he’s already set in his ways.