I took a sip of wine, trying to buy some time, hoping Trask would interject. “Well, a lot of blogs are actually not written by the blog owner. I do that occasionally. But I also sell some short stories and essays.”
“She’s talented,” Trask said. I don’t know why, but it was how he said it that made me squirm, like he was already trying to defend me from his father.
“I’m sure,” Randy said. “How may we read some of your work?”
“It’s out there, several magazines and anthologies and what not. But I write under a pen name. I prefer anonymity.”
“Oh!” Faye piped up. “What is it?”
“Mom,” Trask barked.
Faye shrugged. “What? It’s just a simple question.”
“Telling you would defeat the purpose of anonymity,” I said, fighting the sarcasm rising to my voice. I think I came across sweet. I glanced at Trask to find him swallowing another gulp of wine, hiding a smirk.
“That is a little strange,” Faye said. “It sounds suspicious.” She laughed along with Mrs. Denvers. “I know it’s nothing, but the fact that it’s a secret is never a good connotation. Why not share it? Or at least publish under your real name?”
“Stories aren’t always inherently fictional. Truth sometimes seeps in. It becomes personal. I don’t think I am brave enough to have people I know judge my work like that. Not like Trask.”
“What does that have to do with Trask?” Randy asked. He seemed genuinely curious.
“Well, Trask has to create, much like I do with my stories. But professors will judge his work and then his peers. Creating a building or bridge or any other structure is nearly permanent. A mark on the world and society. And people get to judge it. People will comment and analyze Trask’s creation and he can’t hide from that.”
“I never looked at it that way,” Faye said.
“Good lord, now I feel the pressure,” Trask laughed, kissing my cheek.
The look on Karina’s face shouldn’t have made me as happy as it did. Good grief, when did I revert into a petty fifteen-year-old kid?
“Trask,” Karina said. “Are you still sketching?”
Trask nodded. “Mostly structures. Though I think I have found the sudden desire to try my hand at portraits.”
He was not subtle at all in how his eyes raked over my body, pulling another blush from me.
Faye wouldn’t let it rest. “Oh, come now Eliza, what is the subject of your stories? They’re not erotic or salacious material I assume? What could be so personal in them? You said essays, what are the topics?”
I shrugged. “Any number of things. I once wrote an essay dealing with the idea that the word ‘opinion’ has evolved and now is a regular synonym for fact. It was controversial, but the read-through was incredible.”
“I can see that,” Randy said. “Anything else to note? I’m sorry but fiction has never been a great love of mine.”
“I’ve written articles about the general population’s opinion of the courts and how income plays a role in a guilty or not guilty verdict.” Damn, I said too much. I could see this interested him.That’s it, no more wine for me.
“I’d love to hear your thoughts. I work in law.”
“Trask mentioned as much,” I said, clutching onto Trask for dear life. “It was a few years ago, and it was from the perspective of a low-income family. Whether their thoughts were founded or not, it’s how they viewed the courts and ultimately how they accepted subpar treatment because they already found it a losing battle purely based on average income.”
A muscle in Randy’s jaw ticked, but I was saved from his comment with a remark from Karen. “You would certainly have first-hand experience with the court system,” she mumbled into her wine glass.
“I suppose,” I said, leveling her with a stare. I wouldn’t back down from this wolf in sheep’s clothing. I was young and thought I could trust her like a girl could trust her auntie. I was wrong. She was there in the courtroom, sitting at Donnie’s side, painting me as the violent nut case.
The tension lifted as soon as the announcer got to the stage and announced the start of the auction.
Trask leaned into me. “Just say the word ‘red’ and I will take you home.”
“No, I’m fine,” I said. “It was her sister’s son, it made it personal. I used to be fairly close with the Denvers family.”
He nodded. “I’m glad you told me, but I do think you and I need to talk about this later. I’ve met Donnie a handful of times.”