Naked Read online

“She doesn’t come here because it’s too long a trip to make in one day, she’s always said, and because she can’t stay here in my house, because she can’t eat.”

  He nodded as though he understood, but said, “Why not?”

  We hadn’t ever really delved into the hows and whys of my mother’s transformation from cultural Jew to full-on observance. “Not kosher.”

  “Couldn’t you make her something kosher?”

  “Even if I bought kosher food, the plates and silverware aren’t kosher. Hell. I guess the air isn’t, or something.”

  It had been a sticking point, not just for me, but with my brothers, who all lived so far away. “It’s important to my mom.”

  Alex frowned and came to look over my shoulder at the message. “More important than seeing her kids?”

  “I guess so.”

  “You know, it seems to me that God cares less about what you put in your mouth than how you treat the people you’re supposed to love,” Alex said. “And besides, she could always bring her own food. Eat on paper plates. Right?”

  “She could have, she just never did.”

  “But now she wants to, right?”

  “I don’t know about the food,” I told him with a wave at the computer. “She just said she’d like to come visit for a day or two, overnight.”

  His hand squeezed my shoulder. “So tell her when she can come.”

  I didn’t have to look at my calendar to know I had no time off in the next few weeks, and that she wouldn’t come on a Friday or Saturday, since that would interfere with her Shabbat. “I don’t know, I’ll have to see if I can take the time off work, but shit, I really can’t afford to do that, Alex.”

  “Olivia, baby,” he said into my ear before he kissed it. “You don’t have to worry about any of that stuff. Is it money? Don’t worry about that, I told you before.”

  I shifted on the couch to look at him. “I have to worry about it. I have bills to pay.”

  He smiled and shrugged. “You know, when we’re married…”

  “But we’re not married yet.” I was being stubborn and didn’t care.

  It would’ve been very easy to let him make me his Cinderella. I didn’t have some sort of misplaced feminist pride about bringing home the turkey bacon. It would hurt him if I gave my reasons—that I wasn’t going to bet on this horse until it crossed the finish line—so I kept quiet.

  He shrugged again. “Your mom can still come. I’ll be here when you’re at work.”

  “Really?” I eyed him. “You’d entertain my mother?”

  “My future mother-in-law,” he pointed out. “Sure, why not?”

  I chewed the inside of my cheek. “Okay.”

  As I typed my reply to her, outlining the few days that might work, my e-mail dinged with a new message. My jaw dropped when I read it, an invitation from Scott Church to participate in his next gallery show. I thought at first it was a blanket invite to all the people who’d taken his class, but he’d mentioned a specific photo.

  “Alex, look at this.”

  Wearing his Batman sleep bottoms, Alex bent over my shoulder. “No fucking way! Baby, this is awesome!”

  I high-fived him haphazardly. “I don’t get it…”

  “He wants you to hang one of your pictures in his show. Fuck yeah.” Alex pumped the air with a fist and kissed the top of my head. “I knew he’d pick you.”

  “Wait a minute, you sent him one of my pictures?”

  He jumped over the back of the couch and landed beside me, jostling my laptop. “Yeah. I saw the notice on his blog.”

  “Wait a minute. Back up. You read Scott’s blog?”

  “Sure.”

  Huh. Somehow I’d missed that. “And he posted a notice about what, exactly?”

  “Anyone who’d taken one of his classes should send in a picture to be considered for his next show at that Mulberry Street Gallery place. It’s in September or October.”

  “And you sent in one of my pictures without asking me?”

  He sat back a little against the cushions. “Are you mad?”

  “No.” I looked again at the invitation, which listed all the details of the show. “I guess not, since he accepted my picture. But I wish you’d told me.”

  “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

  I lifted a brow. “Well, it sure was. How did you know which photo to send?”

  “You gave me that whole disc. I picked my favorite,” Alex said, and buffed his fingernails against his bare chest. “It’s one of me. Of course.”

  I laughed because I knew he was serious. “Okay, Mr. Vain.”

  “Your work deserves to be in a gallery show, Olivia.”

  I closed the laptop and put it on the footstool to kiss him. “You love me. You’re supposed to think nice stuff about me.”

  Alex cupped my face. “I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.”

  I believed him, which made it all the nicer.

  He kissed me, then looked into my eyes. “You should quit Foto Folks and that other job. The traveling one. Spend more time on your own work. Get your business off the ground.”

  I shook my head so slightly my hair barely moved. “I’m not quitting my job. Not now. I can’t let you…keep me like that.”

  He sighed. “Fine. But after we’re married, will you consider it?”

  “After we’re married, I guess I’ll consider a lot of things,” I told him with a waggle of my brows.

  He took my hand and linked our fingers. My diamond, still so bright and pretty there were times I had to sit and stare, flashed. Alex touched it with a fingertip. We smiled. We kissed. But neither of us pulled out a calendar and talked about a date.

  Sarah looked tired. She toyed with her salad, poking at the croutons and spearing a cherry tomato but not eating it. She yawned and put aside her fork. “Eh, fuck it.”

  I’d devoured my own half sandwich and cup of soup, and thought about heading up to check out a brownie from Panera’s selection of homemade treats. Then I put a hand on the curve of my belly, calculated the hours I’d have to spend working off dessert, and settled for a refill on my iced tea.

  “I like this one.” Sarah pointed at the brochure I’d pulled from my bag. She was on a break from her job and I was on my way to work at the mall. “I like the graphics.”

  “I like that one, too.” I studied the front of it, then flipped it over. “I’ve got some nice stock shots I can use for the back, but if you’re free this week, I’d like to take some more. Sarah?”

  She wasn’t listening. Her eyes, thickly framed today with black glittery liner, widened. She looked past me, toward the entrance and the long line of people waiting to order.

  “Shit,” she said in a low, very non-Sarah voice.

  I started to turn to see what had her so spooked, but she hissed at me to freeze.

  “What’s the matter with you?” I demanded.

  Her mouth thinned and she ducked her head, then put her elbows on the table to press her face into her palms. “Fuck.”

  “Sarah, what’s wrong?” I twisted in my seat though she’d told me not to, but still couldn’t tell what had upset her.

  She looked up at me. “It’s him.”

  “Him, who?”

  She frowned and shifted her chair behind the pillar, blocking her view. Or the view of her—I wasn’t sure. “Some dude I’ve been seeing. Not important. Maybe he’ll leave.”

  “The one on your Connex page?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Damn, girl, you’ve been holding out on me.”

  Her smiled seemed more natural this time, though still a little strained. “You’ve been a little busy, muffin. I didn’t want to harsh your buzz. Besides, there’s nothing to tell. You know me. One guy, another guy, whatever.”

  I made a face. “That’s so not you.”

  Sarah dated a lot, and freely, and it was true she wasn’t always serious. She was…friendly. Sarah loved easily and it wasn’t always romantic. She wasn’t a p