He holds out a long white coat and I slip it on as my father and I follow him past the silent doorman, out into the chilly post-Christmas evening air and to the waiting limo. Antonio shoots me a friendly wink as I slide into the back of the limousine, my father following close behind. Then the door closes and my father looks me up and down as the car lurches forward into traffic.
“You look beautiful.”
“Thank you, father.”
That is his highest compliment these days, and as horrible as it sounds it’s something I’ve worked hard to get from him, because it’s as close as he ever comes to telling me he loves me.
“I overheard your conversation with January. She’s a bad influence. I don’t want you talking to her anymore.”
“Dad, she’s like my only friend…”
“A friend that encourages you to eat greasy diner food? A friend that doesn’t respect your professional goals? I expect better from you, Doralee. You always did want to overeat as a child. You want that fat girl inside you to find her way out and ruin everything we’ve worked for?”
I shake my head, feeling the tears start to sting the corners of my eyes as I turn away, watching out the window at the packed traffic and holiday lights that line the streets and wrap around the trees. Yesterday was Christmas day. Once upon a time, he would have ignored my mother’s irritated glares as he fed me chocolate and candy. His phone rings and I know from the ringtone it’s Melany. My stomach turns on itself as he answers.
“Hello.” I listen and I can hear Melany’s chirping voice as he nods along. “Yes, we are on the way now. Yes, I’m sure she did…No, I haven’t. I can ask—okay I’ll ask her…” He pauses and turns to me, holding the phone slightly away from his ear. “You took your medication before you left, correct?”
I bite the inside of my cheek as I nod. I hate lying, but I hate the medications more. I don’t think they help me at all. They make me dull and unfocused, even though Melany diagnosed me with ADHD and anxiety years ago. That’s right. Diagnosed me. After she finished with my father, at her suggestion to work through my grief, I became her next patient.
“She says yes. Okay, we will see you there, darling. We are about twenty minutes away.” He goes quiet, listening again, and I wonder what a man like him sees in a woman like Melany. But she’s got his ear and his wallet, and for whatever reason he can’t see passed his nose when it comes to her. “Yes, I’ll remind her. No, no need for that right now. We’ll see you there.”
“Remind me of what?” I ask as he hangs up.
“The dogs. She wanted me to remind you about the deal we made.”
My throat tightens and immediately my eyes burn, and I’m having trouble breathing.
Deal we made? He means the deal she made and he went along with. Bitch.
I’m sorry, but she is.
I don’t know why she hates the dogs so much. They stay in my room most of the time, they don’t bark, they never make a mess in the house. But then, she knows that I love them, and that gives her power over me.
And power is something Melany always wants more of. Look up the word control freak in the dictionary and there will be a picture of Melany.
“I know, father. You know I love them more than anything. Please, don’t ever let her get rid of them. I’ll die. Promise me.”
“Just stick to our deal and nobody will get rid of anyone or anything. One year in Europe, work hard, stick to the plan. They will be safe in the kennel.”
“Yes, but she said she would take them to the shelter—”
He reaches over and lays his hand on mine. He rarely touches me, and it makes me wince. “Only if you don’t abide by the agreement. Just do as you’re told. By Melany, by the agency, by me. The dogs will be fine. We all just want the best for you.”
I nod, my lip quivering. “I’ll work hard.”
“Good girl. She’s just trying to keep you focused. Be on your best behavior tonight. In three days, you’ll be on your way to Europe and you’ll see, everything will fall into place. Your dream is coming true. Before New Year the agency will be starting to put your name forward for some of the biggest shows of the early season. Your mother would be so proud of you.”
Twenty minutes later we are on the fiftieth floor walking into the party. The space is impressive, even by our usual standards. Two-story ceilings and sweeping staircases, with a view from the second-floor balcony right over to the other side of Central Park. This place makes our apartment look like a walk up somewhere in the Bronx.