What It Is (10 page)

Sam looked up at me and smiled. “Honey, you look absolutely gorgeous. Now go over there and show us what you got!”

I walked nervously over to the large gray wall where the photo shoot was about to take place and stood in front of the photographer with my hands hanging at my sides.

“Have you ever modeled before, sweetie?” the photographer asked me.

“No, I’m sorry,” I answered, beginning to feel very childish and silly.

“Well, let’s just start simple. Give me a look over your shoulder.” The photographer picked up the camera and I turned around and glanced at Sam over my shoulder. “Beautiful,” the photographer said as he snapped the first frame. That picture is the cover of this book.

After my initial butterflies went away and I became more and more comfortable in front of the camera, I started to have a blast. I spent the entire day changing outfits, trying new hairstyles, and jumping and posing in front of the photographer. I realized that I loved being the center of attention and I loved it when all of the eyes in the room were on me for a change. I thought of Mom many times during that shoot; I thought of how jealous she would be if she saw me and how much it would eat at her to hear all of these random strangers telling her daughter how beautiful she was. I felt like I was finally getting the kind of attention from the outside world that I had wanted my entire life.

Once the shoot was over and I had changed back into my street clothes, Sam and I said our good-byes to Marcus and headed out to the car to start the long drive back home. I was talking a mile a minute about the events of the day and how excited I was about the possibility of Marcus calling me after my photos were developed when Sam brought me back down to reality.

“OK, Sarah, you got to go, have fun, and dress up for a day. Did you get it out of your system?”

I looked at him in shock. “What do you mean out of my system?” I asked him with a hurt tone in my voice.

Sam shook his head and looked out the passenger side window. “You know what I mean, Sarah,” he said. “You obviously needed to do this for some reason you won’t share with me.”

“Some reason?” I retorted. “You mean I’m out of the ordinary? I would like to think that most girls would jump for the opportunity I just got.”

“You’re right,” Sam said, “most
girls
would, but you aren’t a girl. You are a young woman in a fine job and about to graduate college. I wouldn’t think you would be willing to throw all of those years of work down the toilet to pursue a modeling career.”

“A modeling career!” I said. “Sam, it was one shoot and I don’t even know if the guy is going to call.”

“Right, but he could call, and what are you going to do then? Have you thought that far in advance? Are you going to pack up, leave your job, Aron, and college to model?”

I started to get angry. I felt like Sam was trying to hold me back and stop me from exploring this modeling opportunity further, and I didn’t understand why. “You just don’t get it, Sam,” I said as I gripped the steering wheel. “You just don’t get how good that made me feel today.”

“What made you feel good?” Sam asked me.

“Everything! The hair, the makeup, the attention, being told I was beautiful…I just didn’t get the opportunity to hear that much in my life.” My voice trailed off as I realized I was about to open that can of worms I had been so worried about a few days before.

“Why do you need affirmation from other people to feel good about yourself? Don’t you feel good about yourself?” Sam asked me.

“Sometimes I do. It’s just hard for me sometimes to think positively about myself. My mom…” My voice trailed off again.

Sam took a deep breath. “Aron’s told me some things about your past, and frankly, I don’t want to know any more about what your mom did to you. I didn’t know you then, and the person you were back then is not the person you are now. I know you now, and the Sarah I know doesn’t need affirmation from anyone to prove her self-worth.”

They were almost the exact same words I had used with Aron when we were talking about Sam a couple of days ago. Sam stopped and turned to me and gave me a hard pat on my shoulders. “But if you want to do it, honey, don’t let me or Aron or anyone else stop you. Just make sure you are doing it for the right reasons.”

Sam’s show of fatherly concern took me aback for a moment; I didn’t realize that I was that transparent and that it was so easy to see the real reason I was so excited about this modeling opportunity. Of course Sam was right; if Marcus decided I was right for the agency after viewing my printed photos, I would have to quit my full-time job and drop out of school to travel at a moment’s notice. I would be traveling as much as Aron had been at the beginning of our relationship and missing out on my quality time with him and Ryan. I would have to leave my position as student representative and walk away from my classmates who voted me into that leadership position, for what? To get revenge on Mom and prove to her that I was beautiful and that I was not all of those names she used to call me as a kid?

All of the excitement I had vanished, and I felt depressed and silly for dragging Sam along on this modeling trip. Sam sensed my mood change and patted my leg. “Hey, if nothing else, I thought you looked beautiful and I think if you really wanted to do it, you would be great at it.” He looked up at the highway and said, “Oh geezy! We’re almost home.”

I looked over at Sam with a newfound respect and admiration. I realized that he really did think of me like a daughter, and although he didn’t show it with hugs and kisses and presents, he constantly showed me how he felt through guidance and fatherly advice. I wanted to pull the car over and hug him and tell him how much I loved him as a father at that moment, but I knew physical emotion made Sam uncomfortable so I kept the car on the road.

Eventually, I pulled into Sam’s driveway and he got out and began to walk toward his garage. He stopped about halfway to the garage door, turned around, and walked over to my window. I rolled down my window and he reached in and grabbed my hand.

“I’m really proud of you putting yourself out there like that today, honey. Come over this weekend with Aron and burn some meat?”

“Of course!” I said, and I squeezed his hand back. He winked at me and walked into the garage and waited to shut the door until I was safely backed out of his driveway.

Marcus did call me about five days after the photo shoot and offered me a year-long contract with his agency, but I ended up turning it down. Sam had made me realize that I was going to pursue this modeling opportunity for all of the wrong reasons. If I did that, I would never be able to fully appreciate the modeling experience or even perform to my full potential because my heart wouldn’t have been truly into it.

About six months after the photo shoot, I walked across the stage at my college graduation. As the dean announced my name, “Student Representative and graduating Magna Cum Laude, Sarah Burleton!” I gazed out into the crowd. Instead of being sad and disappointed that Mom wasn’t there witnessing this moment, I looked and smiled at my dad, Sam.

It was a warm, sunny Friday afternoon; I was sitting at my desk in the Accounts Payable department impatiently drumming my fingers and gazing out the window waiting for the clock on the wall to get to four thirty so I could go home, change into my rollerblading clothes, and sweat off the frustrations from the workday on the bike trail. It had been an especially trying day and I was finding it difficult to stay focused on my job when I could look out the window to my right and see how absolutely gorgeous it was outside.

Four twenty-five, time to start shutting everything down.
I began to clean up my desk and close out of my programs when my desk phone rang loudly.
Damn! Right as I’m about to leave, a customer calls!
I put a smile on my face and picked up the phone. “Accounts Payable, this is Sarah, may I help you?”

“Sarah? It’s Richard.”

I immediately stopped what I was doing and sat back in my chair. This had to be bad news because the only time Richard would call was when someone on his side of the family had died. I had never been close to Richard’s family, so I wasn’t sure why he found it necessary to call and tell me that a cousin or an aunt of his had died. Maybe it made him feel better to talk about it or share the news with someone.

“Hi, Richard, what’s going on? What’s the matter?” I heard him suck in his breath. “I just got a call from Arthur, and he wants to see you.”

I almost dropped the phone when I heard the name “Arthur” come out of Richard’s mouth. Since I was at work, it was important to keep myself composed.

“Arthur, really? How did he get ahold of you?” I managed to ask calmly.

“I guess he just looked me up in the phone book,” Richard said. “Look, I just wanted to call and tell you, and if you want to talk to him, it’s completely up to you. I’ll give you the phone number and you can call if you want or if you want to throw the number away, it’s up to you.”

My mind was racing and my heart was pounding out of my chest. I had a thousand things I wanted to say, but I also wanted to end the phone conversation as quickly as possible, so I asked Richard for the number, scribbled it down, thanked him, and hung up the phone. I saw my coworkers picking up their purses and leaving for the weekend, but I couldn’t move from my seat. I sat there holding the phone number for my biological father, Arthur.

Arthur, why now? Why would you contact me now?

I didn’t know anything about Arthur except that he was a car salesman and he divorced Mom when I was very young. Mom had nothing but feelings of hatred toward this man, and there were numerous times during my childhood when I was beaten severely because something I did reminded Mom of the way Arthur walked or the way he looked. “You are just like your father! A piece of shit like your father!” she would scream at me while I was curled up on the floor absorbing the blows from her fists or boots. I had hated Arthur my entire life; I hated him for walking out on me, I hated him for making me suffer through beatings, and I hated him for the beatings I had endured because
he
was my father. He wasn’t a man to me; he was a coward and someone I would spit on if I happened to see him in person.

I continued to sit at my desk and finger the piece of paper I had scribbled Arthur’s phone number on until my desk phone rang loudly. I glanced at the clock.
Oh, damn! It’s five o’clock.
I picked up the phone knowing it would be Aron on the other end. “I’m sorry, honey, I got stuck here and I'm on my way now,” I said.

“Well you know I worry about you, that’s all.” Aron voice made me smile and I couldn’t wait to get home so he could help me decide what to do. I couldn’t make any decisions about contacting Arthur without Aron by my side.

I rushed home and ran through the apartment door, and before Aron could say hello, I was talking a mile a minute. “Aron! You aren’t going to believe who called me today! Richard—”

“Oh God, who died now?” Aron interrupted me as he rolled his eyes.

“No, it wasn’t that type of call this time.
Arthur
called him and wants to get into contact with me.”

 I stopped talking for a moment to gauge Aron’s reaction. I expected him to be as shocked and bewildered as I was, so it surprised me when he said, “Good, I think it’s time you sat down face-to-face with that son of a bitch. You have some questions you need answered, and so do I.”

“Really?” I asked. “I was on the fence, I didn’t know whether to call or not. I mean, he hasn’t been in my life this long, why open that can of worms now?”

“Don’t you want to know, Sarah? Don’t you want to know some truth about your childhood without your mom’s spin on the situation?” Aron shook his head. “You deserve it, Sarah. You are an adult now and you deserve to know why he left you there with that awful woman, and I think I deserve to know, too.”

But why now?
I thought before asking Aron, “After all of this time? Why now? Is he dying or something and has to clear his conscience before he goes to hell? I’m not going to give that that pleasure!”

Aron looked at me the same way Sam did right before I was about to get a lecture. “Sarah, it’s your choice. I have no idea how you feel right now because I have a dad, but I do know that I will be by your side and support you no matter what decision you make.” He smiled at me and leaned over to ruffle my hair. “Honey, I’m proud of you no matter what, but I think it would be beneficial for you to at least call and see what he wants. Then at least you’ll know and you won’t wonder what
could
have happened ten or fifteen years from now.”

As much as I wanted to take that piece of paper with Arthur’s phone number on it and throw it in the garbage, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Aron was right: I needed answers. I needed to have some understanding as to why I had been treated the way I was, and I had believed for most of my life that Arthur was the key to Mom’s madness. If anyone could shed some light on why Mom was the way she was, it would be him.

I picked up the phone, took a deep breath, and dialed Arthur’s phone number.

“Just remember,” Aron said, “he called you, so you are doing him a favor by calling him back.”

The phone started ringing and I started to imagine a man answering the phone with the exact tone of voice as I had, when I heard a man with a heavy Spanish accent say, “Hello?”

I looked quickly down at the phone number I had scribbled.
Maybe I wrote it down wrong or something.
“Um,” I managed to say, “I’m looking for Arthur?”

“This is he!”

Oh my God, I’m on the phone with my father, my real father. Is that a Spanish accent? Is he Spanish?
I swallowed and said, “This is Sarah.” I paused, then added, “Your daughter.”

“SARAH!” Arthur yelled. “I knew you would call. Oh, honey, I’ve wanted to call you for so many years!”

My eyes immediately began to well up with tears and I looked up at Aron. He ran around the counter and put his arm around me. “I’m right here,” he whispered into my ear as Arthur continued talking.