Page 59 of This Love
I’d come to understand that cards and decks of cards and card games were a popular way to describe situations. Maybe I would have Tucker teach me how to play.
“Vinnie, have I always used Ava Flowers for my pictures instead of my real name?” He’d known me since community college at ACC.
“No. I met you as Ava Roberts, and when you are in a class, you don’t get to use a fake name. But then that tonto in Fundamentals of Studio Lighting uploaded an image of you and tagged your name in it.” Vinnie used his hands to make great flourishes in the air. “Your mother showed up from nowhere like la bruja, and you got very spooked.”
Only Tucker knew about the incident with my mother following me. “I saw her a few weeks ago.”
Vinnie hands froze in midair. “Where?”
“Walking home. She was in the neighborhood.”
Vinnie touched his forehead and both shoulders. “What did she say?”
“She tried to convince me to do some other treatment. She knew the wedding hadn’t happened.”
Vinnie shook his head. “She’s checking up on you. Be careful, Mija.”
“I know. I’m taking self-defense classes.”
He nodded. “Good. She’s a real Mommie Dearest. Be very careful.”
“Mommie Dearest?”
“It’s a movie about a very bad mother. One of the classics.” Vinnie slid the images into an envelope. “I think you’re ready to do a real shoot. You want to try?”
“When?”
“Saturday evening. The golden hour. Seven, as the sun goes now. Zilker Park.”
I’d read about that park. Tucker and I went there on our second date. “Okay. Sure.”
“I will come for you at six-fifteen. Wear jeans. We kneel a lot. There are niños involved.”
Now, I got it. “You don’t love kids.”
Vinnie stood up and lifted his camera bag. “They are good money, of course. They order so much. But you definitely handle them better. And you did so good on these!” He tapped the envelope. “With the littles, it’s more about personality than anything. They are tyrants and drive me loco.”
“I bet so.” Huh. That phrase had popped out of me. A bet. Back to cards again.
He headed for the door. “See you Saturday!”
When he left, I pulled out the photos to look over the images I’d taken of the children. They laughed, clutching their bellies, or did silly poses. It was very different from the more formal posing Vinnie himself had done. I guessed I was ready. I liked the kids better than the adults, anyway.
I flopped back onto the sofa. Tucker wasn’t due for over an hour for dinner. I could watch something. I’d run out of Schitt’s Creek.
On a whim, I pulled up the search function and typed in Mommie Dearest. Might be interesting to compare someone else’s bad mom to mine.
Within an hour, I knew I shouldn’t have watched it. She locked Christina in a room. She cut off her hair. She controlled her by being nice and then by being mean. She took her daughter’s dolls, like mine had taken my journals.
Tucker came over while it was on, and I didn’t even go to the door, curled up in a ball on the corner of the sofa.
When he sat down, the mother was hitting the little girl with coat hangers. I couldn’t move, my nose buried in my knees, but my eyes glued to the screen.
Tucker snatched the remote and tried to turn it off, but I’d shouted at him not to. There were some things I needed to see.
He held onto me as we finished it out. I was relieved when the mother died.
“You mother wasn’t like that,” he said as the screen went dark. “She didn’t hit you. But she undermined you like that one. She made you feel uncertain and unsafe.”
