Me & My Invisible Guy (2 page)

I could feel myself relax with every mile we drove away. It was a perfect day. Warm sun, blue sky dotted with puffy white clouds, and miles of open countryside. Even though Dad and I had been to the winery for a wedding before, we took a road that was forty-five miles out of the way so that we could look for barns. There was something about broken-down barns in a pretty field that made both of us want to take a picture.

We didn’t talk about home. We never did. Even when things were worse, and they
had
been worse, Dad and I had an unspoken contract to enjoy every moment of our escape.

We were almost back to the main highway when I saw a rotting gray barn in a field off to my right. I slowed down and made a hard turn onto a gravel trail, kicking up dirt and debris from the tires. Dad grabbed his laptop and held it to his chest, and laughed.

I parked the SUV, and we both grabbed our cameras and walked toward the barn.

It towered three stories high, and the area around it was littered with rusting metal farm equipment and other debris. We each took our own pictures until Dad started posing me in
various positions, close-up and far away. Dad had me sit with my arms stretched out behind me in a patch of sunlight.

Later, I could Photoshop Todd into one or two of the pictures. Do some fake status updates, and my weekend away would be documented. My fake trip. My fake life.

Dad waved me back and hurried me into the car so that we could do what we really came to do. Shoot the wedding of Diana and Alfred Grey at the Lake Anna Winery.

I began shooting weddings and working with my dad’s photography business when I was twelve. Originally, he’d just needed an extra hand to do the photo booth and carry the equipment. But then I began learning the software and helped him with the digital design of the photos. I took candids and other shots of the wedding, but I also took shots of the overall design aesthetic and then used the colors and textures to create… well, whatever the couple wanted. I made digital albums, collages, digital backdrops to use behind the posed portraits, and anything I was inspired to make.

We were a team. A pretty good one.

I glanced at my dad, who had his laptop open, and wondered if he liked escaping as much as I did. Of course, it was different for him; this was his job.

Being his assistant had its perks. One of them was watching him work a wedding. Dad could pose group after group and coax even the most ambivalent groomsman into giving him the picture he was looking for. Every shot he needed was planned in advance, and he was swift and effective. At the reception he was like a ghost, moving
through the party, capturing images that I would marvel at later, while never interrupting the party.

He was so different at weddings than he was at home. At a wedding he orchestrated everything like a master conductor. At home, well, he was just the ghost—always aware of what was going on but unwilling to disrupt the flow of events.

He smiled at me, a smile that told me, yeah, he loved escaping, too.

The wedding was lush and beautiful. The reception went on long after midnight, and by the time Dad and I got to our hotel room, we were both too exhausted to do anything but fall into bed. I didn’t touch my phone, knowing there would be texts to deal with.

In the morning we drove home, barreling sixty miles an hour back toward reality.

Dad gave me a smile when he caught me looking at him. But it was a tight one, a weary one, and I knew I wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to leave.

Saturday would be spent dodging texts and laying low so that no one would know I was back home. Maybe Photoshopping so that I could text pictures, which was much harder than posting online.

Mom was at the door, already anxious, when we pulled into the garage.

“We have to leave for the picnic in less than an hour,” she said to my dad. “I thought you’d be home earlier.” Mom walked to the back of the SUV and yanked on the handle.

“We’re home an hour earlier than I told you,” Dad said, looking at his watch. He started unloading bags, ignoring the withering look my mom gave him.

“Sorry. I’m kind of tired, though. It was a long wedding, and we didn’t get much sleep. Do you think I can skip this one?”

“Janelle is expecting both of us. I already confirmed it with her,” Mom said.

I shoved all my stuff into my backpack and hurried inside.

I closed the door to my room and checked my phone. I wasn’t going to answer anyone until I was technically back home. I thought about offering to take my dad’s place and go to the picnic. But I wasn’t sure I could stomach playing the perfect, straight-A daughter and making small talk with my mom’s teacher friends. They were nice enough, but I was tired and… edgy.

I figured Dad could handle a few hours of hot dogs and small talk.

Mom came to my door and poked her head in. “We’re leaving now.”

“Okay.”

“You’ll check on her, right? I left dinner for both of you. Try to get her to eat.”

“Sure.”

Mom came over and hugged me. “Sorry. I forgot to say how much I missed you.”

At least she realized it.

“Did you have fun with your dad?”

I nodded, and she turned to leave. “Okay, well, call if… if you need anything.”

“I will.”

“Every hour, right? You won’t forget? We can’t get complacent, you know.”

“I
know
.”

She smiled but pushed the door open as she left, the gesture obvious, meant to remind me of Darby just down the hall. I stalled in my room until I heard the front door close.

It was always awkward figuring out exactly what to say to Darby. I decided to pop my head in to let her know I was home, hoping that would be “normal” enough. If babysitting your older sister could ever be considered in the realm of normal.

The door was ajar, and I pushed it open a little more.

I put on my cheery voice. “Hey, I’m home.”

Instantly I regretted my decision. She was curled up on her bed asleep on top of her books. My words startled her awake.

She gave a frustrated sigh and shoved a book. “What time is it?” she asked.

I leaned on her door. “It’s one. Mom and Dad left for the picnic. Did you have lunch yet?”

Darby shook her head. “I’m not hungry. I need to finish studying.”

I tried to read her expression. She seemed upset, but I wasn’t sure why.
Is it serious? Or is it nothing?
“Okay, well, let me know if you change your mind.” I closed the door slowly, watching her open a book.

Always the same two questions but never an answer.

CHAPTER 2

“You’re avoiding me,” Tess said as I climbed into her Jeep Monday morning.

“I am not.”

Tess gave me her “Do you think I’m an idiot?” look.

I spent all day Sunday getting ready for this moment, but now I couldn’t get my tongue to work.

Step 1: Admit that I am powerless over my lying. My life, really.
Done.

Step 2: Believe that God could restore me to sanity.
Yes.

Step 3: Turn my life over to God.
I think?

Step 4: Make a moral inventory.
Yes.

I had an exhaustive and embarrassing list of accumulated lies, all told to protect myself. And my family. Making the list was one thing. It was Step 5 that seemed impossible: Admit to God, myself, and another human being the exact nature of my wrongs.

Tess was the obvious person to tell. But I couldn’t do it.

“What is it?” Tess demanded.

“Nothing. A fight. Todd and I had a fight.”

Yvie and Sophie were waiting in the parking lot for us when we pulled in. Yvie was tall, leggy, and the object of every guy’s desire. Sophie was a more exotic beauty. The four of us had been friends since middle school. Tess and I were the closest, though, so when they approached, I knew that another day would go by with no confession.

“What’s going on?” Sophie asked.

Tess jabbed her thumb at me. “Mallory and Todd had a fight.”

Yvie was leaning on the Jeep, texting. “Well, he’d better show up for homecoming. You swore on your computer.”

Sophie held her hand to her heart. “The bloom of romance is fading.” Leave it to Sophie to be dramatic.

“It’s just a fight. Can we go inside now?”

Tess gave me another one of her looks.

I could only avoid dealing with Todd for so long.