“Difficult to believe she’s old enough to make decisions on her own.”
He chuckles. “It is, but she’s doing a good job.”
His eyes take on a faraway look, and I wonder if he’s thinking about those early days the way that I am now—when our parents first died and we both stumbled into guardianship of our ten-year-old sister, having no idea what we were doing.
Gabriel had been recently married then, but that ended fast once his wife realized she didn’t want to be a pseudo-mother to Eden or live with her new husband’s two sisters while they grieved.
My life was also changed when we took over her parenting, but I still think he had it worse. It’s something we’ve never really talked about. He just stepped in and stepped up. Took over like it was his duty without complaining. He’s always been the epitome of a selfless older brother, and I hope that one day he’ll get to choose himself first.
“Do you have a shoot today?” he asks, looking at the blow out that I’ve given my long, dark brown hair this morning and the makeup I usually never wear that’s covering my face.
“What gave it away?” I joke.
He smiles.
“Yeah. It’s for some up and coming country music artist.”
“Not that one that’s been all over the news for cheating on his wife, right?” his brows furrow as his usually calm and happy disposition unfurls into the more protective version of himself that he’s adopted ever since our parents passed away.
Most days, it feels like Gabriel, and I are Eden’s parents. But every now and then, Gabriel leans into hisI’m-a-whole-year-older-than-you-so-listen-to-your-big-brothershtick, acting more like a father than our actual dad ever did.
I know he’s just trying to protect me, but I wish he’d realize I don’t need it.
“Not him. And don’t worry, today’s costume is just a pair of daisy dukes and a cut-off tee,” I joke with a grin as I give him a quick hug goodbye before heading out.
It’s Thursday, which means no cleaning for me and time to head to my third gig: occasional modeling and acting.
These jobs fell into my lap completely by accident about six years ago while I was still in school and trying to navigate adult bills and responsibilities.
Leo, my childhood best friend, had fallen in love with the son of a music video director in what he describes as‘the most chaotic and regrettable relationship of his life.’
One minute, the three of us were joking about how broke I was, and two weeks later, I was standing on a music video set wearing nothing but pink, cheeky panties and a matching bra, getting doused with water while dancing in the rain to a rap song I’d never even heard before.
I didn’t find out who the rapper was until the video hitMTV’s Top Twenty Countdown, and my phone started blowing up with friends telling me they’d just seen me shaking my ass while fake dollar bills rained down from above.
I’d laughed it off, a story to tell my kids someday, but Gabriel hadn’t found it nearly as amusing.
That gig paid me a thousand dollars. Sure, it wasn’t a life-changing amount of money, but it was enough to buy groceries,fill our cars with gasoline, cover Eden’s middle school field trip, and even put a tiny dent in the mortgage payment that was due that month.
And more importantly, it put me on the map for additional modeling and acting gigs in the community and I’ve been booking those since for side cash.
Gabriel and I have made it our mission to pay off our parents’ house within the next ten years. And it’s not that his job in construction and my private, therapy practice don’t pay well, but what we hadn’t known until after our parents passed was just how much debt they’d hidden from us tied back to the family thrift store.
When that mountain of liability landed squarely in our laps, it became clear we’d be hustling for years to dig out from under it while trying to stay afloat and keep the store in business.
I grab my keys and head to my car, making the short drive into Hartford Connecticut to the address that Leo had texted me earlier when he instructed me tolet loose a little and try to have some fun on set.
Leo has been my unofficial talent manager for years, even though he’d never call himself that. Now, working as a successful public defender in New York City, Leo is still my go-to whenever I book a gig. I list him as my talent manager, and he makes sure the contract is fair and doesn’t have anything in it that I wouldn’t want to do.
“Oh, you’ll need to speak with my manager and lawyer, Leo DeFranco,” I say, as if dropping his name gives me instant credibility.
It usually does. I’ve even thrown it around a few times in my younger years to get myself out of trouble, back when Leo was still grinding through law school. He’s also the reason thatGabriel and I were able to obtain full legal and physical custody of Eden so quickly after our parents passed.
Somehow, he’s always bailed me out, always had my back and I don’t know how it’s possible I got so lucky to have a friend like him my whole life.
I smile, reminiscing on the trouble we used to get into as I watch the familiar landscape of Connecticut wiz past my window.
It’s autumn now, and the whole town of Brookhaven seems to be preparing for Halloween and the usual fall festivities that bring the locals out of hiding for one last celebration before the cold, northeast winter hits us.
