Contessa

by Lori L. Otto

  “Thanks, Dad.” I roll my eyes, exaggerating the motion to make sure he sees it. He laughs.

  “If you promise me that Jon will not come within one block of the house, I bet I can convince Lexi to come stay with you tonight.

  “Not that I don’t think you could handle things alone,” he adds abruptly. “I just thought you might like some company.”

  “I promise I won’t see Jon. And I would like to have Lexi over. Can Camille stay, too?”

  “That’s fine. Just don’t give me any reason to be upset with you tomorrow.”

  “I won’t Dad, I promise.” I draw an X over my heart for extra emphasis. “And if you want me to watch Trey tonight, too...”

  He nods his head. “We’ll play it by ear. We have a busy day planned. A ball game with me this afternoon, and Mom wanted to take him to get some new clothes this morning since he’s growing out of everything he has.”

  “I can come pick him up after the game,” I suggest. I can tell by my dad’s expression that he likes the idea, but Trey’s lips have formed into a distinct pout. “Or whatever.”

  “Can’t I stay with you, Daddy?”

  “If you really want to, Jackson, but I heard the girls are going to make ice cream sundaes after they order pizza.”

  “I want sundaes and pizza!”

  “Well, Mom and I are having asparagus and shrimp.”

  “I hate those.” Of course my father names my brother’s least favorite foods.

  “We can watch whatever movies you’d like, Trey,” I offer. “We can even watch Cars over and over again.”

  “Can I stay with Livvy?” my brother finally asks after he considers his options carefully.

  “Of course,” Dad says smugly. He mouths a quiet thank you to me from across the table.

  “Trey, don’t sit so close to the television,” my cousin Lexi says from across the media room. “Come sit by me?” My brother doesn’t respond.

  “He likes to play with his cars while he watches Cars,” I tell her.

  “Oh, I see. Trey, scoot back a little please?” This time, he wriggles back a few inches. “Better.”

  “Camille, hand me a slice of cheese?”

  “What, are you helpless?” She jokes with me, holding the box away from me. I stick my plate in front of her, and she finally sets a piece of pizza down. “Now go get me a soda.”

  “Fine,” I respond, setting the plate down and getting up. “Anyone else need anything?”

  “You can spike it if you want,” Camille suggests.

  “Absolutely not,” Lexi and I say in unison before breaking out in laughter.

  “I feel like I got a free pass today,” I admit, trudging up the stairs to the kitchen. After grabbing some drinks, I return to the basement and start to settle back into the couch.

  “Your phone rang,” my cousin says. I pick it up quickly. Jon!

  “It’s Jon!” I shriek. “He finally called me back!”

  “Did he leave a message?”

  “No. I have to call him. I’ll be right back.”

  “Go!” Camille orders me. I take my phone and my food into my bedroom, shutting the door behind me. I call him back quickly, anxious to talk to him.

  “Hey, Liv,” he says, his tone even and serious.

  “Hi.” I can’t hide how happy I am to hear his voice. “Did you get my messages?”

  “No, I haven’t checked them yet–”

  “Oh,” I cut him off. “Well, everything’s okay–”

  “Listen, I’m not calling to talk about things. I just wanted to let you know that I’m not going to be tutoring you anymore on Tuesdays.”

  I wait for an explanation, but he doesn’t offer one. “Why not?”

  “Well, you said you have someone at school–”

  “But I could always use your help–”

  “You and I both know we don’t use that time to study. Maybe we both should.”

  “Jon, what’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong? Was I witness to an alternate universe at your house yesterday?”

  “No, but we’ve worked things out–”

  “Things can’t just go back to normal. You lied to me. You embarrassed me. You made a fool out of me,” he says.

  “I’m sorry, Jon. I left you messages. I want to talk about it.”

  “I’m upset,” he says simply. “And you’ve been a distraction to me, anyway.” My heart literally skips a beat at this comment. “I’m about to graduate, for God’s sake. I’ve got so much work to do–projects and papers and essays. I don’t have time...” His voice trails off.

  “For me?”

  He’s still silent.

  “You don’t have time for me?” I ask him louder, growing increasingly angry and hurt.

  “The world doesn’t revolve around you,” he says. “I think it’s time you learned that.”

  I start crying, but I make sure not to let him know. I don’t respond to him at all.

  “Did you hang up on me?”

  I swallow the lump in my throat. “No. I’m here.”

  “Did you have something else to say?”

  “Aside from my apology, Jon... I mean, I love you. But if you think that I believe I’m the center of the universe, you don’t know me at all.” The tears break through now, fast and heavy. Lexi and Camille come into my room. “Because my world has revolved around you for the last six months!” I try to take a few soothing breaths. “And I can see that was a mistake now.”

  “Are you finished?” he asks.

  “Sure,” I say flippantly. I could say a million more things, but I’ve already been burned by that once this weekend.

  “Fine. Bye.”

  “Wait. Jon?” I hold the phone to my ear, waiting for a response. I expected a conversation, a rebuttal, something. I didn’t expect him to hang up! “He’s gone,” I whisper sadly, tossing the phone onto my bed. “He’s not going to tutor me anymore. I think he broke up with me. For real.” Lexi hugs me while my best friend sits down next to me, patting my leg. “For good.”

  My head is pounding when I wake up. I don’t really even remember when the crying stopped and sleep began, but it couldn’t have been that long ago. It’s still dark outside.

  I get up to find some tissues and finally hear the rain pouring outside. A quick glance through the small windows shows daylight. A very dreary daylight.

  Very fitting. Very appropriate.

  “You okay?”

  I jump, startled at the soft voice.

  “I didn’t even see you there,” I laugh at my cousin. I’d walked right by her, her body covered by a black blanket that matches the couch. “Yeah. I’m... whatever,” I tell her honestly, only feeling exhausted and numb.

  “Your parents came home not too long ago.”

  “Did they come down?”

  “Yeah. I told them, Livvy. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Sure.” The urge to cry is too much, and I just let it out. I continue to the bathroom to get tissues, but return to the couch and sit down by Lexi. She sits up and shares the blanket with me.

  “I know he loves you,” she says. “The way he looks at you–looks after you–that’s how Kyle is with me. I have no doubt of his feelings.”

  “It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t want to be with me.”

  “Maybe not right now,” she concedes. “But he’ll come around.”

  “It hurts so much,” I cry. “And I can’t even blame him. I have no one to be upset with but myself.”

  “Well, you know what you did was hurtful, Livvy. But you can’t change it. You have to accept what you did, learn from it, and forgive yourself.”

  “If he doesn’t come back, I’m not sure I can. He was the best thing that’s happened to me since that day I met Mom and Dad.”

  “Your happiness can’t hinge upon the actions of other people. You’re in control of your destiny.”

  “Well, maybe someone shouldn’t have let me have the wheel quite yet. I obviously don’t know what
I’m doing.”

  “You’re young. You make mistakes and you learn from them. That’s what being a teenager is all about. Stop beating yourself up over this. Just calm down and give it some time.

  “Focus on something else. Want to go paint?”

  “No,” I mutter. “I want to sleep some more.”

  “Well, then go do that. Honestly, you probably only got about four hours of sleep.”

  “I think I will.” I hug my cousin. “Thanks for being here for me.”

  CHAPTER 18

  After a few failed attempts to talk to Jon the days following the break up, I stopped trying to call him. That following Tuesday, instead of our tutoring session, I went to the art supply store and bought a few new canvases and paint. I started two new projects. I painted maniacally in my free time, one project in my studio at home, the other one at the loft. Mom took me there for a few hours each Saturday and Sunday so that I could work with more privacy.

  The first Thursday without Jon, as well as the one after that, I waited for ten minutes after class to see if he was coming to walk me home. He never showed up. The third week, I gave up hope and finally accepted the break-up. I left with Granna, letting her take me home because I couldn’t see through the tears.

  I sat in the car with her before I went into my house, waving at my dad as he and Trey sat together on the porch. They went inside, giving me some time to compose myself, and Granna’s driver excused himself, taking out a cigarette and puffing on it slowly as he wandered the sidewalk. Granna sat quietly until I was able to talk. I took a few calming breaths as she took my hand in hers.

  “You’re going to be just fine,” she’d told me. “You have to believe me.”

  “I know.” I knew I’d get through it somehow, but it seemed so much had changed for me in such a short period of time. I also knew, deep down, that all the changes were for the best.

  “Can I just ask you one question?”

  “Of course you can. Anything.”

  “I love my dad, I do. I appreciate him now, more than ever.”

  “Well,” she said kindly, “what would you like to know about him?”

  “It’s not about him.” I sighed, dreading the question but knowing I had to ask. “Granna, is there any possible way that Nate...” I couldn’t even finish my thought, but I didn’t have to.

  She turned to face me and shook her head. “No, Livvy. There’s no possible way.”

  “But you said he was with a lot of girls.”

  “Yes, but your mother didn’t even live here when she got pregnant. You weren’t even born in the state. You were born in Connecticut. And Nate rarely left the island.”

  I took a few seconds to process her answer, and it didn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would. In fact, I felt a sense of relief that surprised me, and although a few more tears squeezed out from my eyes, I smiled at her, and that smile filled me with assuredness and confidence. I felt at peace for the first time in years.

  I hugged her so hard, I’d thought I hurt her. She cried, too, and told me I would always be her granddaughter–not because of any connection I did or didn’t have to Nate, but because she loved my mom as if she was her own child, and had grown to admire my dad in the same way.

  Once I got that last burst of emotion out, I began to feel more like myself again. It was a new self. One I’d never known, but one I got to know intimately as I spent hours and hours alternating between reflection and creation.

  As I painted, I realized that I’d never worked this long on one project. This one never seemed to be satisfied, though, always wanting more attention, needing more from me.

  I poured my heart into it, painting and repainting, layer upon layer. I’d been through so many highs and lows since Jon broke up that I began to question my own sanity. Instead of worrying, though, I exploited it. If I was angry, I’d work on the first painting. When I was confused, and just couldn’t understand how he could walk away so easily, I started another one. When I couldn’t forget the good times, and in fact would dwell on them obsessively; when I was feeling love and longing for Jon, I began the third painting. The fourth one, though, I didn’t start until the night Granna drove me home.

  All four paintings were self-portraits, perfectly stylized to fit my mood.

  I’d put the finishing touches on the last one a few hours before the end-of-year Art Room banquet. The paint’s dry, and I meticulously apply a few pieces of cloth into a flowing pattern. What started out as paintings have become large multi-media pieces, so much more than the two-dimensional work I was used to creating.

  “Livvy, it is perfect,” Mom says from the doorway. “That is the daughter I see. Confident. Independent. Creative. Happy.”

  I turn around and smile at her. I know this project has pushed me as an artist. I know that this is my aesthetic. Together, these four paintings are unlike anything I’ve seen before.

  “It’s beautiful,” my dad says. I glare at him playfully. “I was really worried we’d never see this side of you again.”

  “What do you like about it?” I ask him. He grins, accepting my challenge.

  “The first one frightened me. Your rage came through loud and clear. I swear, every time I saw it down here, I could see with perfect clarity the way you looked at me that night.”

  He doesn’t need to tell me which night. I will never forget it.

  “Honestly, Tessa, I hated the first one.”

  My mouth drops slightly in surprise. A small laugh escapes my lips. “Good.”

  “The second one just made me realize how much you needed us to guide you through this. It doesn’t make sense, I know,” he says. “Knowing you can’t be with the only person you think will make you happy? I know you’ve felt helpless, but you know deep down, you’re not. As much as it hurts, you know you’re stronger than this.”

  “I do know that, Dad.”

  “The third one broke my heart. I know that constant yearning that keeps you from wanting anything or anyone else. I hate that you have to feel that. I hate it, but in a sense, I can tell that the pain and the desire to be with him replaces the numbness, and you know that you’re alive.”

  “You’re good,” I compliment him.

  “This one? I know you’re going to be okay. I know that you can handle whatever curveballs come your way, Contessa. I feel a sense of accomplishment. Like maybe we didn’t do such a bad job after all. This one is simply beautiful. It’s just as we see you, Livvy. And it makes me realize how clearly you see yourself, and how well you know yourself.

  “It’s beautiful,” he repeats. “You’re a beautiful young woman, Contessa, and I couldn’t be more proud of you than I am right now.”

  “Thanks, Dad. Thanks, Mom.”

  “Will you be ready to go in a half hour?”

  “I will.”

  “Poppet, you better get going,” my father says. “Even though Donna says she’s got it handled, I know she needs you.”

  “I’m going, Jacks. Don’t worry.” They kiss on her way out.

  “We’ll be there soon.”

  “No rush. You have time,” she assures us, smiling at me knowingly as she waves goodbye.

  “What more do you need to do?” he asks. “I’ll start packing up your painting.”

  “I just need to change,” I tell him. “Five minutes.”

  “You heard Mom. She said we have time.”

  “Yes, but Dad? I need to pick something up on the way–something from the loft. Is that okay?”

  “Of course it’s okay.” He puts a protective cover over my art and takes it with him upstairs. “I’ve got my key,” he brags, looking over his shoulder at me. I give him a dirty look, but laugh. I’d long ago accepted their rules for the loft.

  “Alright.” On my way to the closet, I see the two pieces of fabric I’d put aside for my mom. I’d meant to give them to her before the banquet. I tuck them safely in the nightstand.

  I find a nice skirt and blouse and put them on quickly, applying li
pstick one last time before shutting the lights off.

  “I’m ready, Dad.”

  “Can you drive?” he asks me. “Mom took the sedan.”

  “Of course.” He picks up the painting carefully and takes it out to my car. I help him nestle it securely in the trunk.

  “Liv?” I stop backing up suddenly, thinking he’s warning me of something behind me. When I check the mirrors again, I don’t see anything.

  “Yeah?”

  “I just wanted you to be prepared. Jon is coming tonight.”

  I lose my breath. I’d considered his presence, but since no one ever said anything, I assumed he wouldn’t be there.

  “They’re giving him the scholarship?”

  “Yes. The board approved it.”

  “Well, good.”

  “You don’t even have to talk to him if you don’t want to.”

  “I know. I guess I figured I’d have to see him sooner or later. Did you talk to him? Or did Mom?”

  “No, Donna coordinated with him and his mother. We thought it would be best if we let her do it.”

  “Did she say how he was?”

  “No, Tessa. We didn’t ask.”

  “Cool.” I say cool, and I’m trying to play it cool, but my heart begins to beat faster and harder in my chest. I’m nervous and anxious and scared and excited. My only hope is that he won’t ignore me. My only fear is that he will. I push those thoughts out of my head, deciding it’s pointless for me to worry about it now. What happens, happens. Right now, I have more important things to do; more important relationships to mend.

  I park the car in the drive out front of the apartment building, letting the valet know we’ll only be a minute.

  The ride in the elevator is awkward and quiet, and I catch myself holding my breath in anticipation all the way up. Once the elevator doors open, I finally speak. “I really appreciate you coming with me today, Dad.”

  “It’s not a problem. Your mom says you’ve been working on something pretty incredible,” my father says, “so I’m hoping to get a glimpse of it.” He sighs before inserting the key into the loft door and holding it open for me. “After you,” he says with a smile.