Nude Men by Amanda Filipacchi

adults also.”
    “I don’t know,” I say. “I think it’s a little strange.”
    “What’s strange?”
    “I mean, I’m not her father after all. Is this an acceptable thing to do?”
    “She doesn’t have a father,” says Lady Henrietta coldly. “If you don’t want to do it, it’s fine. I’ll have her stay with one of my other male models, whom she hates, but she’ll have no choice.”
    I have a feeling she’s inventing this little threat to make me feel bad.
    “I don’t know,” I say. “It’s not that I don’t want to do it. It’s that—” I can’t finish the sentence. What am I going to say: “It’s that don’t you think she’s acting a little too affectionate”? Or: “I don’t know what I might do”? No, I can’t say these things, or she’ll think I’m a dangerous maniac and will never want to see me again.
    Finally, I say, “It’s that people might think it a little strange.”
    “Nonsense. You’ll just say you’re her father.”
    I don’t say no. I just sort of slide into it, not knowing how to refuse. I don’t want her to be upset with me and to dislike me. After all, I still have hope that she’ll break up with Damon. Just because she’s going to spend one weekend with him doesn’t necessarily mean that she’ll spend the rest of her life with him. And in a way, it’s sort of good that she trusts me with her daughter. Maybe it means that unconsciously she wants me to be the father and she’s getting me ready for that role. This possibility may seem farfetched, but I always like to fantasize about the best possible thing that a seemingly negative situation might bring.
     
    T he next day I get a good idea that makes up a tiny bit for having to take Sara to Disney World alone. It’s to bring my mother to Disney World with Sara. This would kill three birds with one stone: (1) I would be doing the favor for Lady Henrietta. (2) I would be pleasing my mother, who wants to spend time with me. (3) I wouldn’t be alone with Sara.
    When I mention the idea to Lady Henrietta, she does not seem thrilled, and I can’t figure out why. I thought she would feel even better about the whole thing. Instead she says, “Oh. Why do you want to bring your mother? You think you’d be bored just with Sara?”
    I am annoyed at her, and I feel like replying, “No, you idiot, that’s the problem: I’m afraid I wouldn’t be bored at all.”
    But I say, “My mother has been wanting to see me for a long time, so I thought this would be a good opportunity. I’m sure she’d love Disney World. On top of it, I’m surprised you’re not glad that an older woman will be there to help me look after Sara.”
    She does not say anything more, but she doesn’t seem very pleased about the idea. Nevertheless, the next day she gives me another plane ticket. I offer to pay for it, even though I can’t really afford it, but Lady Henrietta says she won’t hear of it. I try not to feel guilty, reminding myself that she’s rich.
    “At least you won’t have to pay for an extra room,” I say. “Sara can share a room with my mother.”
    “No,” replies Lady Henrietta. “You will all three have your own rooms.”
     
    London Bridge is falling down Off to Disney World we go
    Falling down                                             World we go
    Falling down                                             World we go
    London Bridge is falling down Off to Disney World we go
    My fair lady.                                              Shit fuck shit-fuck.
     
    My girlfriend, Charlotte, thinks the whole thing is a little strange, but she doesn’t pay as much attention to it as I was afraid she might, because she happens to be very busy right now. She says she’s even sort of glad she’ll have the whole weekend to work, with no distractions.
     

chapter six
     
     
     
    M y mother