by Carrie
Diary of A Rich Girl – Chapter 68
After we got to the beach and unpacked, I went next door to Marge’s beach house and told her about my little problem. I was concerned that she might not take my side, but after pouring my heart out she put her arm around me and said that I’d be a fool to let a certain someone’s rigid out of date ideas on life hurt me. You have no idea how good that made me feel.
But when we heard the door open, for a moment I feared it was you know who. It wasn’t. It was just Vance, Marge’s nephew. Her boys were in tow and when they saw me they ran and gave me a big hug. I was back to feeling normal and whole again.
Marge introduced us. Vance was on his way off to college and this was his send-off summer. He seemed very nice and was impressed when he heard my name; he also let on that he knew me, “Aunt Marge told me you were a model. I’ve always wanted to be a photographer.”
He sat down across from me with an eager but friendly manner. Marge was off to fix the boys a snack. I said, “What does being a fashion model have to do with that?” He said, “Well, you get photographed.” “But there are all kinds of photographers.”
He said, “It just seems like such a glamorous business, more than accounting.” He dropped his head slightly and said, “My dad is an accountant.” “And he’s pressuring you?” “Yeah, he says fashion photography is too hard to earn a living.”
Well, after having been tormented by mother on our way out, I certainly had no problems sympathizing with him. I said, “You have to follow your heart.” Then he looked up and said, “Yeah, but like, how? I mean I own a camera, and I’ve taken some pictures of girls in my class, but I can’t afford to hire real models.”
I said, “Well, you can start as an assistant.” He said, “Do you think you could help me? There’s a photography contest that if I win I could get a partial scholarship to an art school. With that my folks would probably allow me to go…at least, I think.”
“You mean you’d like me to model for you? That’s what you’re saying?” He sort of shrugged his shoulders, looked down at his feet and shuffled them for a second. “Yeah, I mean, like, if you could like give me a hand.”
Marge came in with the boys, and some cold beer. “Have I interrupted something?” I looked at the kid and thought about it. He patiently waited. I asked him, “Do you have a camera?” “Yeah, at my house.” Marge gave me a nudging smile. I realized she was the one behind all this. He seemed like a nice kid, so I said, “Sure. Let’s do it.”
His eyes lit up, “When?” Marge gave me that look again. I said, “Okay…How about tonight?”
