Model Behavior

by Claire Highton-Stevenson

“I know, maybe we should take her back to my mother’s instead.” Olivia was almost out of ideas when Ava began to come around. “Ava?”

  “Yeah?” she slurred.

  “You need to get up, okay?” Olivia stood and tried to pull Ava upward. It took several goes, but she managed it. In the dimly lit area, the supermodel swayed until Olivia held her firmly up against the wall behind her. “Ok, so my mom’s, yes?” she said to her lover. Hilary moved inside and they each put an arm around Ava to support her as they stumbled out.

  “Okay, so long as this isn’t going to wake up Gracie?” Hilary scowled as they made their way through the crowd and around the bar to the door that took them backstage, and then out into the night.

  ~MB~

  Hilary had the job of holding Ava upright while Olivia found her keys and opened the door. It was a difficult job as the dark-haired model decided now was the moment she was going to try and walk by herself. When the door opened, they all but fell through it.

  “Jesus, Ava!” Olivia glared, catching a vase just in time. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she hissed.

  “Sorry, need—” She made to speak again but stopped when the threat of vomit suddenly appeared. “Toilet?”

  Hilary dragged her across the hall to the small closet by the stairway and threw her in. Within seconds she heard the tell-tale retching sounds and walked away.

  “What do you want to do with her?” Hilary asked, not feeling particularly nurse-like right now. She reached out to Olivia and pulled her closer. “You okay?”

  “Yes. I just want to see that she is alright and then…” She leant against Hilary’s shoulder. Her fingers plucked at imaginary fluff on the dancer’s sweatshirt. They stood like that for a while, not moving, just being. “Are we okay?”

  Hilary nodded and kissed the top of her head. “Yeah, we’re good. Your kind heart is one of the many reasons that I love you.”

  “How long has she been in there? Should we check on her?” Olivia said, lifting her head and looking in the direction of the closet.

  “She’s probably fallen asleep but yeah, want me to go?” Hilary asked, her eyes settling on her lover.

  “No, I’ll go. Do you want to go put some coffee on?” There was a kiss, gentle and yet firm as Olivia smiled. “If we can sober her up, I can call Tori and they can deal with her.”

  The kitchen was in darkness, so she clicked on a light switch that lit all the lights on the underside of the cupboards, illuminating the countertops. She placed the kettle under the faucet and began to fill with water when she heard it: Olivia calling, no, screaming, for her to come. She put the kettle down and ran back through the hallway to the closet, where she found Olivia on the floor next to Ava.

  “What is all the noise?” her mother’s voice called out from the dark upstairs, but Olivia ignored her and pulled Hilary to the floor with her. “Gracie is asleep, for goodness’ sake,” continued Cynthia as she made her way down the stairs slowly.

  “I found her slumped against the wall, she isn’t – I don’t think she’s breathing!” Panicked, Olivia was now pacing as Hilary got down onto the floor and checked her pulse. She bent lower and listened. There was a small packet on the floor next to Ava that had clearly held some kind of powdery substance, the outline of which appeared around Ava’s nostril.

  “Call an ambulance.” She tried to keep her voice steady and calm. “Now, Olivia.”

  Cynthia was now at the bottom of the stairs. “What’s going—Oh my God. Is that Ava? What happened?” Question after question came tumbling out as Cynthia took in the scene below her.

  “Mom, I don’t know, she has taken God knows what,” Olivia said as she dialled 911 and waited for the operator to answer. “Yes, yes I need an ambulance.” There was a mumbled sound of the voice on the other side of the call speaking and then, “No, I don’t know, she isn’t breathing. Yes, she has taken something and been drinking.” She rattled off the address and then stayed on the phone.

  Hilary tilted Ava’s head back and opened her airways, using her fingers to push her chin upward and her head back. She bent lower again, placing her cheek over Ava’s mouth to try and feel her breathe. There wasn’t anything.

  “Tell the operator I am a trained nurse and I am now going to commence CPR,” Hilary said calmly to Olivia, who imparted the information to the operator. Cynthia had moved closer to Liv and placed her arms around her. At that point another person made their way down the stairs.

  Michael Palmer stood at the halfway point in just his pants, belt unbuckled.

  “What’s happening, Cyn?” Olivia turned to face him and then her mother. Hilary’s dad was standing half-naked in her mother’s house!

  “Michael.” She reached out a hand, indicating he should come down and take it, that she needed him. She looked at her daughter and grinned, a knowing smile that said she would explain later. “It’s Ava, Olivia’s ex-partner.” He looked down to see his own daughter performing CPR. She counted out chest compressions then breathed into Ava’s mouth. Over and over she kept going while everyone else stood by waiting, watching. After three or four minutes, Ava coughed and immediately turned and vomited. Hilary got her on her side and tried to put her in the recovery position, but Ava was having none of it. She pushed and hit and shouted out at Hilary.

  “Fucking get off me!” she shouted as she tried to sit up. “Fucking stripper! Don’t touch me.” She fell backward and landed on her back. Olivia had had enough!

  “Don’t you dare shout at her, she just saved your god damned life, you selfish—” She felt her mother pull her back and hold her. “I swear to God, Ava.”

  “What? You all mad at me? I didn’t leave you for a damn stripper!”

  “She isn’t a stripper, she’s a dancer!” Olivia screamed at her. She looked up to find Hilary staring at her, eyes wide with fear.

  “Hilary? What’s she talking about?” Michael asked.

  And then the ambulance arrived.

  ~MB~

  It was almost one a.m. when the paramedics were satisfied that Ava would be alright. They took her to the hospital just to be safe, but she would be fine once she slept and the toxins in her system were flushed out. Olivia was just grateful that Gracie hadn’t woken during the commotion.

  Olivia called Tori Taylor, not caring if she woke her up, and informed her where she could find her star cast member. The producer wasn’t impressed, but Olivia wasn’t concerned with that either and hung up.

  She found Michael and Hilary sitting at the kitchen table, neither speaking to the other as each considered the information they had both discovered this evening. Cynthia busied herself making hot chocolate for them all and a mint tea for herself as Olivia slunk down, exhausted, into the chair next to Hilary.

  The silence was palpable.

  “So, who wants to explain this?” Olivia commenced the conversation that needed to be had, her hand waving between her mother and Hilary’s father. They both looked to one another. Her mother blushed and sipped her tea before taking a seat next to him.

  “Well,” she began. “It’s quite simple really.” Cynthia looked to him, and he just smiled before looking at Olivia. “We have been—”

  “Oh god mother,” Olivia exclaimed, embarrassed now that it was confirmed.

  “Olivia, I am 55 years old. If I want to date Michael then I am perfectly capable of making that decision,” Cynthia scolded gently.

  “What your mom is trying to say is that—” Michael interjected, then looked to Cynthia for permission to carry on, which she gave with a small nod. “We have a lot in common and we enjoy each other’s company.”

  “Yes, and this is the first time that Michael has stayed over,” Cynthia threw in quickly. Olivia pulled a face before adding that she didn’t want to know.

  “I do,” Hilary piped up. “I want to know, are you both just having fun, or…”

  “We…” Michael felt like a teenager caught out after curfew. “Hilary, I didn’t want you to find out this w
ay. I mean we didn’t expect you both home tonight, or to have brought that, what was her name? Ava? With you.”

  Hilary nodded. She wanted her dad to be happy, and Cynthia was a wonderful woman. Who was she to deny him or her that chance to find out?

  “I am confused though, Hilary,” he said, his tone reverting to that of her dad now. “Dancer, stripper? You taking your clothes off?” He looked hurt. The kitchen suddenly felt a lot smaller as she grasped Olivia’s hand under the table and swallowed quickly, the walls closing in around her as she saw the disappointment in her dad’s eyes. This was not a conversation she had ever wanted to have. She could absolutely kill Ava. To think she had actually saved her life!

  “Dad, it isn’t what you think,” she began, only to watch as his face flushed and he became agitated. He hadn’t looked at her like that since she was 12 and had come home from school with a letter demanding he attend the next day to discuss her behaviour following a fight with Candy White. She took a deep breath and prepared to break his heart.

  “Daddy, I don’t take my clothes off,” she said, which was technically true. They already were off when she stepped up on the platform, and if bending the truth saved him the hurt, then she would. “But I do dance, for money, at the bar.” He suddenly stood up and ran his hands through his hair. “I needed a job,” she continued to explain.

  “No, you didn’t, you could have stayed with me and—”

  “Pop, I love you, but I needed to do my own thing, I needed to earn—”

  “Stripping? That’s how you thought to earn a living?” He placed his palms on the table in front of him, leaning across the table at his daughter. Cynthia reached out, touching his arm, and Olivia noticed he calmed instantly.

  “Michael, it’s no worse than anything I have done for money,” Cynthia said quietly, reminding him of her roles in TV and film that she knew for a fact he had enjoyed.

  “Not the same, Cyn,” he shot back. “I can’t have people looking at my little girl like—”

  “Like what?” Cynthia replied. “As a gorgeous, sexual being? The way you looked at me on screen?” Her father grimaced. “She isn’t a little girl anymore Mikey, and you have to accept that she can and will do as she likes.”

  “She will always be my little girl,” he said, not taking his eyes off of Hilary.

  “Dad, look, as soon as I get a job nursing, I won’t be dancing any—”

  “You won’t be dancing now,” he stated, looking her straight in the eye. “No more Hilary, your mother would be turning in her grave.” And with that he stormed upstairs.

  Cynthia reached across and squeezed Hilary’s hand in support. “I’ll talk to him.” She smiled and then stood and followed him out of the room.

  Olivia wasn’t sure what to say. She hadn’t had a father, not even really a father figure, because her mother had never really dated after Olivia had been born. She knew who her father was; she had just never met him, nor did she want to. He had never shown any interest, and she didn’t feel as though she missed out on what she never knew. So, this was something new.

  “You okay?” she asked tentatively.

  There was no reply, just the sinking of one body against another as Hilary burst into tears and sobbed in her girlfriend’s arms. But that was reply enough for Olivia.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Hilary wanted to go home. She was heartbroken at her father’s reaction and all she wanted to do now was get away from making this any worse. Olivia called a cab. Picking up her phone again, she quickly typed.

  Olivia: Taking Hilary home. I will be back for Gracie in the morning. X

  She placed the phone back in her pocket, not expecting a reply, but it beeped instantly.

  Cynthia: That might be wise, sweetheart. I will work on things this end. Don’t worry about Gracie, she has a playdate, remember?

  Olivia: Of course, it’s been a crazy night. Okay, cab’s here. I’ll call you tomorrow. X

  ~MB~

  Hilary climbed into bed fully clothed and curled up, her sobs silently wracking her chest as the night’s events continued to replay over and over in her mind. Olivia followed suit and clambered in behind her, wrapping her in her arms. It was all she could do not to cry along with her.

  “I..I knew he would hate…hate it,” she sobbed, and Olivia didn’t need a further explanation. What father would like it that his daughter danced half-naked for others?

  “I know,” Olivia soothed, brushing her hand over Hilary’s hair gently. “I know.”

  “Bu…but…my mom? Would she…would she hate me too?” Her voice cracked and a new set of sobs began.

  “It’s okay,” Olivia whispered gently, calming and quiet, as she tightened her arms around Hilary’s waist and did all she could to protect her from the hurt.

  Hilary didn’t remember falling asleep. But she remembered the dreams of a woman, blonde like she was, carrying her in her arms and dancing with her. And then there were images of herself dancing alone, the woman no longer holding her and slowly pulling away, turning from her, twisting around and around until all that was left was a skull that swam in front of her face, shouting words of disappointment.

  She woke with a start, struggling to remove herself from Olivia’s hold. For a moment, she didn’t quite know where she was. The semi-darkness took a moment for her eyes to adjust.

  Olivia had sat upright the minute Hilary had pushed her away. She was watching her lovingly, reaching out and touching her with a warm caress of her fingertips.

  “Are you okay?” Olivia asked quietly, moving closer again.

  “Yeah, I – I am okay,” Hilary whispered back. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, feeling the chill in the air against her clammy skin. “I’m going to jump in the shower.”

  “Want some company?” Olivia smiled. She felt so useless.

  Stripping off her top, Hilary smiled sadly. “I – do you mind if…”

  “Of course not.” She waited until Hilary was undressed before adding, “Hilary, I am here when you’re ready, okay?”

  Hilary nodded, smiled sadly again, and then left the room. Olivia threw herself back on the bed in frustration. All of this hurt and upset was her fault. If she hadn’t tried to help Ava then none of this would have happened. Slowly, she eased herself back upright and looked at the clock.

  It was nearing six a.m. “Might as well get up,” she muttered to herself. Four hours’ sleep was better than nothing.

  When Hilary finally reappeared, red-eyed and sniffling, Olivia had coffee made and the French toast was all but ready to be served. Hilary plonked down into a chair at the table and sighed.

  “Coffee?” Olivia offered, holding the pot up in front of her.

  Hilary silently nodded, and Olivia poured two mugs before taking the seat next to her. She was picking at the sleeve of her jumper with her fingers. Olivia reached for her hand and held it, brushing her thumb soothingly over the back of her hand.

  “I am sorry,” she whispered, squeezing Hilary’s hand gently.

  “Why are you sorry?” Hilary was confused; Olivia hadn’t done anything wrong. She studied her girlfriend and noted the look of sorrow on her face. “Liv?”

  “This is all my fault, if I had just left Ava at the bar and let them deal with her—”

  “You did a good thing, this – I am not sad because of anything you did or didn’t do, honey.” Hilary closed her eyes as the threat of further tears stung. “I just—what my dad said, about my mom?” Olivia nodded. “It hurt because I – I can’t argue back. I can’t say he is wrong because I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean?” Hilary had never really talked about her mother. She talked about her dad and her sisters all the time, but she never really mentioned her mom, and Olivia hadn’t thought to question it.

  “I was three when my mom left,” she began, repeating what her sisters had told her. “I don’t know why, but Debbie said she thought it was because—she was diagnosed with cancer, and Debbie thought she ju
st didn’t want us to witness…I was four when she died.”

  “Oh Hils.” Olivia reached out again.

  “So, I don’t know. I don’t know what my mom would think. I can’t argue that she would be proud of me, because I never knew her. I don’t remember her, and I think that hit home last night when dad said that.” She broke down once more, but this time Olivia was ready. She pulled the chair around and wrapped her arms around her, pulling her almost onto her lap.

  “It’s all going to be okay.”

  ~MB~

  They spent the morning on the couch, Hilary snuggled into Olivia’s side, both of them dozing on and off as tiredness and emotional exhaustion set in.

  The TV was on, but neither were really watching it. Olivia’s phone beeped.

  Cynthia: Gracie said to say hello as she rushed out the door without a goodbye. Michael is still very upset. How’s Hilary?

  Olivia: I’ll pick Gracie up later, take her to the cinema. Hilary is sad. The jibe about her mother hurt more than anything. X

  Cynthia: Give her my love. Will check in again later, otherwise, I will see you when you come home from the cinema?

  Olivia: Yes, see you then. X

  “Who was that?” Hilary mumbled.

  Olivia placed the phone back down on the coffee table. “My mom, she sends her love.”

  Hilary lifted her head. “Did she mention Dad?”

  Olivia went to speak but was cut off before she even drew breath.

  “He hates me still, doesn’t he?”

  “No, Hilary, of course he doesn’t hate you. He’s just upset…”

  “Because his daughter is a disappointment to him.” She buried her head back into the blanket.

  “That’s not…Maybe we should go to the beach?” Olivia suggested, her fingers pulling gently through Hilary’s hair. She felt her lover shake her head and mumble. “I can’t hear you, babe.”

  Hilary lifted her head to speak. “I don’t want to go out ever again.” She looked exhausted.

  “Oh, well that might not work too well with having to go to work, shopping, dates—”

  “Work? I am not going to work. I’m never going back to—”