Page 46 of When Darkness Calls

“Maybe you can take some pictures of the town. You could use identity as your topic, or something like that. Make the portfolio a sort of collage of you.” Dad takes a quick swig from his beer while I think it over.

I mean, I do want to try to find myself. I want to be acquainted with who I used to be. This could help. It would even work with my “Get My Shit Together List”.

“Hmm, yeah, I might. That’s not a bad idea. I was also thinking of doing things like before and after. Having a photo and taking one in the same spot at the same angle and combining them into one image. Kind of like how in movies they use overlays to switch scenes.” Dad hums his understanding just as Jennifer and Cade step outside. Cade sports his own beer, and Jennifer is sipping a glass of wine.

“Oh, please. Danielle, are you still spouting all that film nonsense.” She tsks her disapproval and my cheeks heat.

“I mean really. It is such a waste of your time and potential,” she continues on, but I drown her out.

Potential.

It seems everyone knows more about my own goddamn potential than I fucking do lately.

“Jennifer, I appreciate the concern really, but I don’t care much about what you have to think about the subject.” I cut her off and she looks at me mouth agape.

“Excuse me?”

There is an awkward silence that falls over us. Cade is staring at me wide eyed, and Dad is trying his best to sink into the seat cushion I believe.

“I know your opinion on my interests, and despite all of your previous attempts to sway me, I am not interested.”

She sniffs, sitting back, crossing her knees.

“I understand. I am only trying to look out for you Danielle. Someone like yourself should know that you won’t have much luck with breaking through the film industry. They expect a certain kind of person, and truthfully dear, you just don’t fit that image.” Jennifer sips at her wine.

Her perfectly curled blond hair pinned back and over one shoulder, makeup to the nines. She looks the perfect picture of a trophy wife. And in my experience, she can play the role of cunning and conniving with a sweet smile so well she deserves a goddamn Oscar.

Cade motions like he’s going to speak but I shoot him a scathing glare which shuts his mouth.

I grit my teeth, and mutter through them. “Thank you for your opinion. I am not looking to be an actor, or on screen. Though I don't know if you would be aware given the little bubble that you’ve built around yourself, Jennifer, but the industry is changing. Bodies of all shapes and sizes are gracing the silver screen. And plus size models have made the covers of magazines. So, while I appreciate your concern for the future, I will be working behind the scenes, not in them.”

Cade clears his throat. “So, about dinner, huh?”

Jennifer’s attitude changes completely. The air of perfect hostess comes to play as she stands hands wiping down her pressed skirt.

“Give me one moment and I’ll have everything set out in the dining room.”

“Why don’t I help you?” Dad stands, finishing his beer. “I need a refill.”

The two walk into the house and Cade turns to me.

“Dee,” he mutters, reaching out. I turned away from him, taking a deep breath.

“I’m fine. I just want to get this over with.”

After a plate of roasted chicken, garlic and herb potatoes, and salad, then one bite-sized cupcake (Jennifer’s favorite flavor from her favorite bakery as usual) sans anyone singing “Happy Birthday”, we are all sitting around the firepit as music plays softly over the patio.

Cade and Dad are talking about something business-y and tech related while they roast marshmallows. Jennifer sits hanging on to every word, trying and failing spectacularly to get Cade’s attention each time she interrupts to say something so insightful with a lingering hand on his shoulder or a graze of her heeled toe against his calf.

Barf.

Gag.

I gave up trying to keep up with the whole ordeal. God knows she’d have a heart attack if I tried to roast one too, and I do not have the energy to deal with all of that again. Her badgering insistence to have more salad instead of potatoes at dinner was my limit for the day. I got my damn potatoes and that’s all I care about.

She might be one of the biggest assholes I’ve ever met…but fuck can she cook.

I mean not to toot my horn here, but I did stick up for myself today. Kinda. Which is a hell of a lot more than the past few years. Especially at that Halloween party. Those girls were talking about my size and how I looked, and I just sat and took it. One step forward.