SHOOT: A Novel (3 page)

The woman shook
her head, “Have you done this for long, my dear?”

“Pretty much my
whole life,” I gave her a half-smile. I wasn’t ashamed of it by any means, but
a part of me had a hard time hiding my dissatisfaction with it.

“Hmm,” she hummed
before looking around. She removed her glasses and eyed my pies for a moment
before looking back up at me. There was absolutely no disapproval or judgment
in her eyes, but there was a sense of curiosity and confusion. I was unsure
what to make of it so I stayed quiet, waiting for whatever she had to say next.

“My name is
Sonja.” She extended her hand.

“Chloe,” I
responded with a warm handshake, in which I immediately noted just how soft the
woman’s skin was. I also noticed her perfectly manicured nails. My stomach did
another little somersault. I thought these types of women only existed in TV
shows and movies. I never dreamed I would see someone like Sonja in the small
town of Fort Dodge, much less be speaking to her in front of my pie stand.

“This is a curious
place,” the woman went on. She pulled a red-and-white checkered napkin from off
the surface of the stand and dabbed the top of her forehead, although I didn’t see
a single bead of sweat glistening on her skin. “I won’t be here for long, I
have to return to New York for an important shoot. I was just here visiting my
sister and—”

“An important
shoot?” I said, wincing slightly when I realized I had just cut her off
mid-sentence. I wondered if she was talking about pictures or a movie. Either
way, I was already enthralled. I found it all the more interesting how she had said
it so casually. Those types of things were such a regular part of
her
life that they probably didn’t seem
quite as enchanting as they did to a small town girl like myself.

“Yes, my dear, a
photo shoot with one of our veteran models.” She paused and looked me up and
down, quietly, making me shift awkwardly from foot to foot. “Have you ever
considered modeling, Chloe?”

For some reason,
hearing Sonja speak my name brought a big shock to my system that I briefly
drowned out what had been asked. Then, when it hit me, I couldn’t help but
chuckle.

“No, ma’am, not
me.” I immediately bit my lip, sincerely hoping the glamorous New York City
woman wouldn’t take offense to the word “ma’am.” I figured Sonja wasn’t all too
used to being addressed like that.
 
 
 

“But you have
the look
,” she said in a hushed tone.
“Surely, you have to know you are, well, different?”

I stared at her,
completely stunned. Sure, I had been told I was pretty most of my life, but I
never dreamed someone like Sonja would be saying the same thing to me. I always
tried to ignore the compliments and never let them go to my head. I always assumed
I was only ‘small-town-Iowa-pretty’. The women in the city were way different
than me and had more to offer by way of glitz and glamour. How could I ever
compare to them?

Sonja dug into her
clutch and pulled out a sleek looking business card, the word “
SHOOT
” was emblazoned across the top in
a bold red color.

“I’m a model scout
at a major New York modeling agency named Shoot,” she explained as she handed me
the card. I took it and held it tenderly, as if it were made out of precious
material.

“I would love for
you to pay me a visit in New York,” she told me as I continued to look at the
card stunned. “Let’s make something of those stunning looks you have.”
 

There was no sound
other than the wind blowing through the open windows of my cherry red pickup
truck and my busy, if confused, thoughts. Despite still being in a daze after
meeting Sonja, I had managed to sell my last two pies just before packing up. I
had held onto the business card tight in my hand before hastily shoving it in my
wallet. The meaning of that card wasn’t lost on me. That was my ticket out of
there. The only ticket out of there I had ever gotten—
ever
. It was already slightly crinkled from my tight grasp.

A critter scurried
across the road and I instinctively slowed down. My ears finally honed in on
the slight rattling noise of the empty cartons and boxes packed away in crates in
the back of the truck. My mind constantly replayed everything Sonja had said.

“It’s ridiculous,”
I muttered under my breath, reaching forward to switch on the radio. Luckily,
one of my favorite songs was about midway through so I started singing along
happily to the popular country melody. It was the only thing that distracted me
from the card still folded up in my wallet, but it didn’t last long.

Although I liked
the song blaring from my speakers and my brown hair was whipping about in the
warm air, I was still mentally traveling to New York. By the time I pulled up
at home I was starting to wonder if it was really all that absurd to pay Sonja
a visit. It was the least I could do right? If nothing came of it in terms of a
modeling career, something I had never even considered in my wildest dreams, I
would have at least achieved a lifelong goal to visit The Big Apple.

I drew in a slow
breath before my mouth curled up into an excitable smile. If nothing else, it
was at least an interesting and thrilling story to share with my family, even
though my mother would certainly disapprove. She had always pressured me to
live the ‘typical Iowa girl life’ of finding a farm boy and raising children. My
stomach wrenched a little bit at the thought of having that conversation with
her. I hopped out of the truck, deciding to unpack everything the next day, and
placed my hand on the car door as I looked back at the long dirt road leading
up to my family’s country home.

 
It was all I knew. It was home.

But it wasn’t what
I wanted.

I opened up my
wallet to pull out Sonja’s business card, smoothing it over with my fingers and
staring at the word “
SHOOT
” at the
top. It was a simple yet chic design that really caught the eye. Giving my
truck a tap, I practically skipped to the front door and dropped the moneybox
from the day’s earnings onto the kitchen counter.

Without a word or
an attempt to see who was around, I ran up the stairs and closed my bedroom
door. I felt like a giddy teenager as I plopped onto my bed and stared down at the
card now cradled in my hands like something precious that could break if I
dropped it.

I looked down at
the card and smiled wide as ever, flopping back and looking up at the ceiling
with a sigh. I could have been floating at that moment thinking about Sonja
telling me I had “the look” and proposing the sort of future I thought only
characters in movies had. Of all the people out there I never would have
counted myself as one of the lucky few to even be glanced at sideways by a
model casting agent, much less actually be approached by one.

If I did go to New
York and actually make it as a model, I could be just as glamorous as Sonja.
When I came back to visit my hometown, it would be a stark contrast to
everything I had ever known. Maybe people wouldn’t even recognize me at first. I
would return to my family’s farm and plop down on the bed I was on now, only it
would be something of the past. The thought of making my present life a past
life gave me chills. I wondered what sort of plush bed I would be able to
afford in New York. Sure, my own bed had always been comfortable, but there had
to be something even better out there.

 
I turned over to lay on my belly and let out a
heavy sigh into the pillow. It was all but a dream, a whole bunch of wishful
thinking I needed to quit before I got too wrapped up in it. The last thing I
needed was to get obsessed with something impossible and live out my days
heartbroken and feeling more frustrated than ever. Of course, the desire for a
better life wasn’t entirely selfish.

“Chloe!” It was my
younger sister, Aubrey, calling up for me to go downstairs.

My sister was
already 14 years old and I knew that if I made a career for myself it would
invariably help my younger sister have a brighter future with greater options. I
sighed feeling like it really was pointless to think so much on a future I
could never have. I pushed off the bed and trudged to my bedroom door. I took a
deep breath before pulling it open and walking downstairs with the happiest
expression I could muster.

“Dinner is ready,”
Aubrey informed me before heading into the kitchen to continue helping our mother,
who had prepared a chicken dinner with fresh vegetables picked from their
garden just hours before. If it was any consolation, I knew the city wouldn’t offer
such fresh, healthy, and delicious meals like the ones I could get from the
farm.
 
 

I walked into the
kitchen to grab the serving dish holding roasted potatoes and took it into the
dining room where everything else was already in place. I knew right away it
was Zoey, my 10-year-old sister, who had set the table because she always
placed the fork upside down between the spoon and knife. She thought it looked
cute or interesting. I couldn’t remember the exact word she had used. Not only
that, she was the only one who ever made sure the plates and glasses didn’t match
in color.

I looked around,
but my little sister was nowhere to be seen and neither was Abel, my 6-year-old
brother and youngest sibling. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and sat
down at my usual spot, exhaling loudly and enjoying the brief moment of quiet
before everyone sat down for dinner and things became somewhat chaotic, as it always
did when everyone was together.

Having three
younger siblings was far from easy or peaceful, but there was no other way I
would have it. Maybe I grew tired of them going at each other constantly, shrieking,
or dealing with Aubrey’s early teen melodramas, but I loved them more than
anyone or anything. What I wanted above all else was to help provide them with
exactly the future they wanted and deserved; one full of happiness and
opportunity—the kind of opportunity I never had.

 
 
Just
then, Abel and Zoey walked in laughing. Abel immediately ran up to me and
climbed on my back. I started to ruffle his hair and gave him a quick peck on
his smooth forehead. He didn’t inherit the striking emerald green eyes I did,
but they were hazel and absolutely lovely. I pressed on his cute, upturned nose
and made a little honk noise.

 
“Ready for dinner?”

Abel nodded
enthusiastically and I patted his hip before placing him on the chair beside me.
Zoey, sitting across the table, was staring at me. I knew she was waiting to be
greeted as well and it was no secret she got a bit jealous of the attention I
gave the baby brother.

“Cute bow,” I
commented, eyes fixated on the pastel green bow with pink polka dots fixed to
the side of her golden brown hair, pulled back behind her ears in the neat
little bob she always kept it in. Of all the siblings, Zoey was easily the best
suited to country life. She was truly meant to be born into it and nothing made
her happier than spending time on the farm or working in the family shop.
Despite being only 10 years old, she was also the best cook of all four kids. She
had taken a keen interest in it from a very young age.

Zoey grinned and
poked the corner of the bow, happy to have earned a compliment from her oldest
sister. Although our styles differed quite drastically, Zoey looked to me as a
sort of role model. It was something that made me feel both pressured and
gleeful at the same time. A couple minutes later our parents, Joe and Pam, came
downstairs with Aubrey trailing behind. We all sat down and mother said grace
before the loud clinking of silverware against dishes started as everyone
passed dishes around and took a serving.

“Everything looks
delicious, mom,” Aubrey said before taking a bite of the herb roasted chicken
and making a noises of approval. I looked at my sister and thought even she was
better suited to this life than me. The truth was both Aubrey and Zoey seemed
happier to stay in the small Iowa town working in the family business. As for
Abel, it was bit too soon to tell.

I loved my
parents, I loved my siblings, and I appreciated everything I had been provided
with. I liked making blueberry pies and felt a sense of pride from how
delicious they always turned out. The townspeople were quite lovely and even
the bad eggs were bearable.

Despite all that, I
couldn’t help but wonder what else was out there.

The dreamy glow
must have lit up my eyes because my father chuckled when he looked at me, “Did
you have an especially good day at the stand, honey?” I took a moment to focus
on what he said before nodding slowly. “You look especially radiant like you’re
in a dream. What happened? Meet a boy?” He teased.

“Oh,” I responded
slowly, killing time by munching on some of the vegetables my mother had
sautéed. I could feel my cheeks burning. I was sure I was blushing a crimson
red. A boy? No, not in Iowa. Sure I had boyfriends in the past, but they were
just as simple as the girls. None of them actually wanted to
leave
, which meant none of them were for
me.

 
My mind raced as I tried to decide if it was
an opportune time to answer honestly about what had happened earlier with Sonja.
As exciting as it was for me, I knew it would probably upset at least one other
person at the table—my mother. My mom was a true to form, born and bred country
girl who had inherited all the good graces of her own mother and the desire to
carry on such a legacy. She wasn’t the type to wonder about anything outside
the world she knew and very much loved. She wanted that same kind of life for
me; to the point of nearly demanding it.

“My pies all sold
out,” I finally responded, deciding to put away anything to do with Sonja and
her offer.

My dad cocked his
eyebrow and swallowed the food he had in his mouth. “Well, that’s great, but
it’s not exactly rare.”

“Right,” I
responded, trying to figure out convincing reason for my glow that evening. “It’s
a good sign they all sold pretty quickly on the first day out of the season and
I even had an old friend come from across the state to make sure she got some!”

Lindsay had, of
course, not come to town specifically for my pies, but it was close to being
true so I figured my little lie would pass. After all, she
had
taken much time picking out the perfect pie and made it a point
to stop by the stand.

My father nodded
and went on to ask about Lindsay, making the conversation flow easily. I was
grateful for it because my mind was still stuck on Sonja’s business card folded
in half and sitting atop my dresser upstairs. I was too busy off in my dream
world to think of more to say. It wasn’t long before Aubrey chimed in and the
conversation shifted.

 
Once dinner was all done, I helped Zoey gather
up all the dirty dishes and us girls split the cleanup work while our parents
tended to Abel in the den. As Aubrey and Zoey alternated between playfully
teasing one another, I focused on drying the dishes as I stared out the window at
the dark expanse of land belonging to my family’s farm.