Contessa (7 page)

And that strain that I sense seems to draw me further away from Dad. From
Jack
.

I think it
’
s natural for me to be intrigued by the idea that Nate could have been my father, though. For one thing, I didn
’
t know my real dad. I
’
d been told that the man on my birth certificate wasn
’
t actually my biological father; that he
’
d agreed to put his name on the document at my mother
’
s request. DNA tests had been done to prove his story before my adoption was approved. The actual identity of the man who fathered me was a mystery. It was a mystery that lent itself well to my own curiosity about Nate.

It wasn
’
t such a stretch to imagine this man my mother once loved as my dad. Out of all the grandparents I have, I
’
m closest to
his
mother–and I
’
m not even related to her. It had dawned on me years ago, though, that I wasn
’
t really related to any of my grandparents, having been adopted. They could have been anyone.

By blood I
’
m related to no one in my family, but I relate best to Mom and Granna. They seem to understand me, to communicate with me, to appreciate me better than anyone else.

So it seems only natural to make that leap. Some days, I pretend I have a creative, spontaneous dad like Nate. Some days, I believe that it
is
Nate. Today
’
s one of those days.

I wonder what he would think of the portrait.
“
Well, Livvy,
”
I imagine his voice to be animated, his words quick and haphazard. I don
’
t think he
’
d be one to censor his thoughts like Dad does.
“
I do think it looks like me, but I think the cheekbones should be a little lower. And are my eyebrows really that uneven? I think you need to shade the left one in a little more, right above the arch. But it
’
s almost there. Here, let me show you.
”
I fantasize about him taking my paints and mixing the colors more, even better than I can, and adding the finishing touches, correcting my mistakes. Even my mom can
’
t do that for me.

I take the picture out one last time and critically analyze the two. I think the Nate of my daydream might be right. I again return the painting to the closet and decide to take a shower.

“
Is everything okay, honey?
”
Mom startles me in my
room,
as I
’
m getting ready for bed.
“
Can I come in?
”

“
Of course,
”
I tell her.
“
I
’
m fine.
”

“
You seem angry with Dad tonight.
”

“
He just doesn
’
t understand me,
”
I tell her.

“
What do you mean?
”

“
He just... I don
’
t know. He tries too hard, and it annoys me.
”

She laughs quietly as she sits down on my bed.
“
Liv, you make it kind of hard on him. You put up this wall when you talk to him now. You two used to be so close.
”

“
Well, now he has Trey,
”
I tell her.
“
Maybe we still would be if
he
hadn
’
t come along.
”

“
Liv...
”
Her tone is a warning to me.
“
Your father loves you just as much as your brother. And you love him, too. You
’
re being silly.
”

“
No, I
’
m not,
”
I argue.
“
Dad spends more and more time with him.
”

“
Because you
’
ve been pushing him away for months. This needs to stop. What happened?
”

“
I don
’
t know,
”
I tell her honestly.
“
I just sometimes wonder if he
’
s the best dad I could have had, you know? If maybe there was someone better I should have been with. Someone who really understands me.
”

“
Livvy, my God, don
’
t say things like that.
”
She gets up and closes the door to my bedroom.
“
Why would you even say such a thing? You know how much we went through to adopt you, Liv. He did all of that. I wouldn
’
t have even known where to start, but your dad did
all
of it.
”

“
That
’
s not true,
”
I tell her, remembering the story.
“
Granna had a lot to do with it, too.
”

“
You
’
re right. She
’
s a very influential woman. They worked together to make sure you had the best home. Dad fell in love with you the moment he saw you,
”
she tells me this fact that I
’
ve heard recited a million times.

“
Why did Granna care so much, Mom? Why did it matter to her that I had a good home?
”

“
She wanted Jack and me to have a child, Liv. She knew it meant a lot to both of us, and she felt like you were brought into our lives at just the right time.
”

“
It meant a lot to you because you lost your first baby, though, right?
”

“
Well, it meant a lot to me because I knew I wanted to raise children with him, and I knew I couldn
’
t give him one.
”

“
But you did.
”

“
I did. But that wasn
’
t supposed to happen. We were told it
couldn
’
t
happen. You know this story, Livvy.
”

“
I know.
”

“
Okay.
”
She stands up and pulls the comforter back for me.
“
I love you, Livvy. Sweet dreams.
”

“
I love you, too, Mom.
”
I give her a hug before crawling into bed. I turn on the thunderstorm noise that I like to listen to while I sleep. Mom had told me once that Nate liked to listen to rain when he slept, too. She turns to walk out of my room, pulling the door behind her.

“
Mom?
”

“
Yeah?
”
she says, smiling back at me.

“
What do you think your first baby would have been like? The one you were going to have with Nate.
”

She stands in the doorway for a few seconds before coming back in. She leaves the door cracked this time, but sits on the bed next to me.
“
I think it would have been a girl.
”

“
But you didn
’
t know?
”

“
No, it was too soon to have known the sex. But I just had a feeling it was a girl. Nate thought that, too,
”
she says.
“
He said God wouldn
’
t have sent him a boy to raise. He didn
’
t feel like a great role model.
”
She laughs to herself lightly.

“
Was he?
”

She wrestles with an answer.
“
His heart was always in the right place,
”
she tells me.
“
In the end, yeah. I think he would have been a fine father, to a son or daughter.
”

“
Do you think she would have turned out like me?
”
I ask her.

“
It
’
s funny you should ask that,
”
she tells me.
“
I believe that children are a reflection of the way they were brought up, and I feel like I
’
ve done a lot to influence who you are. I think you
’
re a lot like me, but Nate and I were a lot alike, so yeah, I think she
’
d probably be a little like you. Definitely creative like you. Maybe not as smart, though. You get all that from Dad.
”

“
I get all that from
school
,
”
I correct her.

“
Hey,
”
she cuts me off.
“
You
’
re giving him no credit, Livvy, and he has done so much to make you into the person you
’
ve become today. He
’
s the one who got you through all your hard Spanish and Latin tests. He
’
s the one who
’
s helped you with math, and biology. And if it
weren
’
t
for him, you wouldn
’
t have the opportunities you have. You go to the best school in the city, Livvy, and it
’
s his stature in the community that got you in. Without him, you
’
d be in public school right now, and I don
’
t know who
’
d help you with all of your homework. I
’
m not good at any of it.
”

“
You
’
re good at art, which is the only thing I really care about.
”

“
Well, you should care about it all. It makes you a well-rounded young woman, and that
’
s going to allow you to do anything you want when you graduate from college–
”

“
If I go,
”
I challenge her.
“
You don
’
t need a degree to paint. I bet Nate didn
’
t have a degree–
”

“
He most certainly did.
”

“
Where did he go?
”

“
He went to Parsons. He got a Bachelor
’
s degree in Fine Arts.
”

“
Well, that sounds cool.
”

“
It
’
s a great school. And to get in, you
’
ve got to be the best at what you do.
”

“
Do you think I could get in?
”

“
I think you have the talent, and training, but I think you need to open your eyes to the world around you, Livvy, and I think you need to try to see things from a different perspective. You need to find your own aesthetic.
”

“
What
’
s that mean?
”

“
Your own style. Your own artistic point of view. Something that makes you unique–that makes you stand out from all the other talented people out there.
”

“
How do I do that?
”

“
You soak in as much information as you can, Livvy. Look at our culture, and then look at other cultures. Learn about other people–historical people, influential people, interesting people–and keep your mind open to letting in new ideas and new possibilities. This is why all your other
schoolwork
is so important, Liv. Being an artist is more than just painting pretty things. You can make a statement in the world, be an instrument of change. You have the power to be truly important. But you won
’
t get there from inhaling paint fumes alone,
”
she says with a laugh.
“
Does that make sense?
”