while we sort things out at home.”
“Where?”
“The Avon Porter Academy,” her father replied.
“It’s in Cheshire, Connecticut,” her mother reassured her as if she’d come visit on the weekends. Could Irma make the trip? Lately, the woman couldn’t wash the previous day’s makeup off her face, let alone navigate herself down one city’s block.
“Why?” Tabitha searched her mother’s eyes for cause. “I didn’t do anything wrong…” She observed the frown, which had set onto her dad’s face weeks before, deepen.
Lost in a trance, Countess Irma stared at the silk fringes on the rug. Her mother held the tumbler she’d sipped booze in up to her thin lips and emptied the remains down her throat.
“Daddy?” Fear twisted inside her and demanded a reason. “I’m your girl. You promised you’d never send me away to school.”
“You’ll leave in a week.”
“For how long?” Her world felt destroyed.
Her parents ignored the question, and she realized they meant for good . “The Easton’s are sending Lex this fall. You two will attend school together.” His voice became a gnat in her ear. “Go into the kitchen and help Mr. Constance with dinner.”
Barely able to stand, she bit the inside of her cheek to still her lips from a scream. She ran from the room and slammed the heavy door behind her. Tabitha put her ear against the entrance and listened as she always did.
“You could still act as if she’s your daughter,” her mother cried.
“She’s not.” His voice sounded weird. Tabitha never heard these words come from him.
What are they talking about?
“You can still love her, Joseph.”
“Our daughter is from your affair. I always knew you and Birdie Easton shared a lot in common—pill-popping and booze. Who knew you both fucked the same—”
“I don’t want you listening.” Mr. Constance came up behind Tabitha and pulled her away from the doorway. “Come, help me with supper.”
Tabitha caught on quick to toughen up to what life threw her way. When her parents never came to visit her at boarding school, she didn’t get upset. No, she knew she wasn’t wanted. She’d gone through her entire childhood and never heard “I love you.”
Nor did Tabitha become shocked when she spent Christmas and Easter with Mrs. Pringle, her gym teacher. And she wasn’t discouraged at eighteen when her Aunt Muffie came to her graduation and told her the college trust fund she’d counted on for Columbia University was empty.
Birdie gave her centerfold contacts for Playboy . At eighteen, Tabitha became Playmate of the Year. She secured a spokemodel gig for a push-up bra and soon realized two things. One, women should never push up anything. And two, bunny ears didn’t look good on her. Tabitha preferred to be behind the scenes, where she could retain more control over what the press would write instead of being just another pretty-faced model. This insight motivated her during her junior year in college to create Brill, Inc., her own public relations firm, and specialize in all things glamorous. She did whatever was required to make it in New York City. With no shame, driven by determination, she wouldn’t be defeated by her parents’ wrongdoings.
Her walls remained up.
Tabitha grew tough and was deemed unscrupulous by her actions to get ahead. Some identified her as a bitch. Those who worked at her media company called her Miss Taddy Brill.
Good Morning, Warner Truman
Present Day, December 20th
Tribeca, New York City
If Paris was called the ‘City of Romance’ and Shanghai was coined the ‘Pearl of the Orient’ then Manhattan was the ‘Metropolis for Singles’. Twenty-eight percent, to be exact, of the Big Apple was indeed unhitched. In the metro area, men had over thirty-five thousand restaurants to take their woman to on a date. And if they hadn’t met her yet, they could at any of the city’s thirty-eight thousand bars. Warner Truman knew this already.
“Where?”
“The Avon Porter Academy,” her father replied.
“It’s in Cheshire, Connecticut,” her mother reassured her as if she’d come visit on the weekends. Could Irma make the trip? Lately, the woman couldn’t wash the previous day’s makeup off her face, let alone navigate herself down one city’s block.
“Why?” Tabitha searched her mother’s eyes for cause. “I didn’t do anything wrong…” She observed the frown, which had set onto her dad’s face weeks before, deepen.
Lost in a trance, Countess Irma stared at the silk fringes on the rug. Her mother held the tumbler she’d sipped booze in up to her thin lips and emptied the remains down her throat.
“Daddy?” Fear twisted inside her and demanded a reason. “I’m your girl. You promised you’d never send me away to school.”
“You’ll leave in a week.”
“For how long?” Her world felt destroyed.
Her parents ignored the question, and she realized they meant for good . “The Easton’s are sending Lex this fall. You two will attend school together.” His voice became a gnat in her ear. “Go into the kitchen and help Mr. Constance with dinner.”
Barely able to stand, she bit the inside of her cheek to still her lips from a scream. She ran from the room and slammed the heavy door behind her. Tabitha put her ear against the entrance and listened as she always did.
“You could still act as if she’s your daughter,” her mother cried.
“She’s not.” His voice sounded weird. Tabitha never heard these words come from him.
What are they talking about?
“You can still love her, Joseph.”
“Our daughter is from your affair. I always knew you and Birdie Easton shared a lot in common—pill-popping and booze. Who knew you both fucked the same—”
“I don’t want you listening.” Mr. Constance came up behind Tabitha and pulled her away from the doorway. “Come, help me with supper.”
Tabitha caught on quick to toughen up to what life threw her way. When her parents never came to visit her at boarding school, she didn’t get upset. No, she knew she wasn’t wanted. She’d gone through her entire childhood and never heard “I love you.”
Nor did Tabitha become shocked when she spent Christmas and Easter with Mrs. Pringle, her gym teacher. And she wasn’t discouraged at eighteen when her Aunt Muffie came to her graduation and told her the college trust fund she’d counted on for Columbia University was empty.
Birdie gave her centerfold contacts for Playboy . At eighteen, Tabitha became Playmate of the Year. She secured a spokemodel gig for a push-up bra and soon realized two things. One, women should never push up anything. And two, bunny ears didn’t look good on her. Tabitha preferred to be behind the scenes, where she could retain more control over what the press would write instead of being just another pretty-faced model. This insight motivated her during her junior year in college to create Brill, Inc., her own public relations firm, and specialize in all things glamorous. She did whatever was required to make it in New York City. With no shame, driven by determination, she wouldn’t be defeated by her parents’ wrongdoings.
Her walls remained up.
Tabitha grew tough and was deemed unscrupulous by her actions to get ahead. Some identified her as a bitch. Those who worked at her media company called her Miss Taddy Brill.
Good Morning, Warner Truman
Present Day, December 20th
Tribeca, New York City
If Paris was called the ‘City of Romance’ and Shanghai was coined the ‘Pearl of the Orient’ then Manhattan was the ‘Metropolis for Singles’. Twenty-eight percent, to be exact, of the Big Apple was indeed unhitched. In the metro area, men had over thirty-five thousand restaurants to take their woman to on a date. And if they hadn’t met her yet, they could at any of the city’s thirty-eight thousand bars. Warner Truman knew this already.
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