Anonymity Read Online Free Page A

and grow up. Life isn't easy. You've had every possible advantage. We bought you computers, took you on nice vacations, sent you to camp, paid for lessons. I should have had such an auspicious start in life.”
    “Been reading your word-a-day calendar again?”
    “Don't judge me for trying to improve myself. And don't change the subject.”
    “I'm well aware of your working-class background and how Grammy and Pops didn't help you much. Blah. Blah. Blah.”
    Her daughter's dismissive attitude stung. It wasn't that Barbara flaunted her childhood of diminished circumstance. It was only that she wanted Emily to understand how hard work was the only way to security in life.
    “That's disrespectful.”
    “I'm sorry. You're right. I don't want to fight.” Emily pushed away her plate. “Beth said our ten-year reunion is next summer.”
    “Will you go?”
    “Probably not. And I know what you're going to say before you say it. I'm ashamed to go back, but I'm not. That's just it, I'm not unhappy with my life. I'm content.”
    “You can't bartend indefinitely.”
    “Really? Why not? Maybe I'll open my own place.”
    “With what money? Investment money? Honestly Emily, I do wonder about you sometimes.”
    She crinkled her nose. “It's just that I don't know what I want to do. I've never had that big goal, that one thing that I just knew I was meant to do.”
    “Why don't you start by picking something you'd like to study? What about architecture? You had a real interest when you were younger.”
    “Too much math. I'd never pass now.”
    “What about photography? Commercial photography pays nicely. All your old equipment is still upstairs in your closet.”
    “I should take that stuff. Might be fun to pick it up again.”
    “Put together a portfolio, even those artsy weird shots you did, and see if you can find a part-time job at a photography studio. Then you could learn the business. See if it suits you. You could still keep your job at the bar at night.”
    Barbara had a laundry list of things she wanted Emily to consider, but she held back. The news about Beth seemed to have loosened some contemplative place inside, but Barbara wasn't going to push. This relationship with her daughter was a delicate thing.
    Gerald said to let go, that she would find herself, but he'd always been the calmer, less involved parent. Emily tried to hide that she preferred her father with his less challenging ways, but Barbara could tell. The hugs Gerald got were always a few seconds longer. Emily's smile was always brighter around him. Barbara suspected that there were times when Emily went to Gerald for money, times when they shared a secret and left her out.
    While it hurt, Barbara didn't really resent Gerald. Certainly a girl should love her daddy. But sometimes it was hard being the stronger parent. Instead of the hugs and kisses, she often got the confused Emily or the depressed Emily. When things got rough, Barbara was the one she turned to.
    Just like today. When Emily had called to say she was on her way home, Barbara had heard something in her voice. It was just a tiny quiver, a tone that a mother can sense.
    She would deny it, but Emily came home to be reassured that she was not alone. She came home to feel safe and insulated. She came home to be loved.
    And Barbara would always love her. Always help pick up the pieces. Always.

Emily
    UPSTAIRS, IN the back of her old closet, Emily found a black portfolio coated with dust along the top edge. She laid it on her bed and unzipped it. A jumble of photos fell out. She fanned them around and slid one from the bottom.
    It was a self-portrait, a Cindy Sherman-style shot with a constructed set and a costume, part of her experimental self-portrait phase. From the stack she pulled a simple, stark black-and-white. Dark waves of hair twisted around her skinny shoulders in the shot. Her lips were slack and her eyes, icy blue in life, looked eerily clear from the photograph, too round and lonely