Page 103
Story: Web of Dreams (Casteel 5)
"And don't think it all won't be done in a very professional manner," Tony added. "Just because I am president of my company now doesn't mean I didn't begin as an artist myself. All of the Tattertons do. I was working as a Tatterton artist when my father died and then I had to take over the administrative aspects of the business.
"But this is too important and too delicate to assign to just another artisan at my factory, and, as Tinian says, we wouldn't want any stranger copying your image."
When I didn't reply and there was a long moment of silence, Tony continued.
"Let rue explain the process so you can understand what has to be done. First, I'll draw a picture of you. Then I'll paint it in, trying to capture skin tones. After that, work in clay, sculpting a model to get all the dimensions, and once that is done I'll have it cast and duplicated.
"Well," he said, filling the silence again, "talk it over with Jillian. I have to make some phone calls and see what's been going on in my absence and then look in on Troy. Don't worry about anything," he added. "You'll do fine and become quite famous in the process." He got up, kissed Momma and then left us alone.
The moment he left, Momma sat back in her chair, looking more matriarchal than ever.
"Really Leigh, I'm surprised and disappointed in you. You saw how excited, how electrified Tony is with this new idea and how big and important it will be to the Tatterton Toys empire, and he wants to make you the center of it all, yet you sat there looking ungrateful, indifferent, whining, 'What do I have to do?' like some immature child."
" But Momma, pose naked?"
"What of it? You heard him--this is art. Look in any museum. Did the man who modeled for Michelangelo's David wear clothes, or the women who posed to be Venus?
"When he came in here all excited and proposed the idea to me, I thought you would be thrilled and flattered. I thought you had matured enough not to be giggly and silly about serious art. Believe me," she said, "if I were only young enough, your age, and a man like Tony came along and offered me such an opportunity, do you think I would hesitate one moment as you did? Absolutely not."
"But why can't you be the model, Momma? You're so beautiful and young looking."
Like lightning Momma's face changed, growing hard arid cold. "Tony explained that he wants this to be for girls your age," she snapped. "Can you imagine my photograph next to a Tatterton portrait doll in the window, a doll made for teenagers? I'm young looking, Leigh, but I don't look like a teenager, do I? Well . . . do I?" I shook my head, weakly, unsure whether to agree or disagree.
"Maybe you can paint me and do the sculpture," I said quickly. "You're an artist."
"I don't have that kind of time, Leigh. I have social obligations, very important ones. Plus, I do fantasy artwork.
"You won't even have to go anywhere to have it done," she continued. "It's all going to be done here at Farthy, and it will give you something else to do this summer. Tony has decided to set up a small studio in the cottage so you and he won't be disturb
ed."
"The cottage?"
"Isn't that a good idea?"
I nodded.
"All right then. I'll tell him you want to do it," she said standing. "Isn't it exciting? I can't wait for it to be finished," she said and left me.
I ran to my rooms to take off my bathing suit, shower, and dress for dinner I felt dazed and confused, my mind filled with contradictions and tugged this way and that by different emotions. I couldn't help but be excited about the idea of my portrait in Tatterton store windows beside a precious doll that was created in my likeness, making me seem like some goddess. My guess was that most of my friends, especially members of the "special club," would have jumped at this opportunity.
But Tony was Momma's new husband, young and handsome, and to stand for hours before him stark naked!
I stripped off my bathing suit and preened before my full-length mirror gazing at myself, studying my every curve. The veins around my emerging breasts were close to the surface, stretching and growing every day. Would Tony concentrate on such detail? There was a tiny birthmark just under my right breast, would that be on the doll as well? I was sure the doll would be dressed in the store windows, but anyone could strip it and gaze upon its torso. Wasn't it like undressing in the storefront window or on a stage for everyone to see?
How did women become professional artists' models? Did they just sit there or stand there thinking of other things and pretending it wasn't going on?
I put on my robe and went back to the mirror to imagine I was about to pose for Tony. I conjured him before me, paint brush in hand. He had his palette set up, the canvas prepared. Now he turned his intense blue eyes on me and smiled. He gestured with the brush and I began to untie my robe. My heart pounded, raced, even with this fantasy. I began to pull the material away from my body and then, .
"LEIGH!" I heard Troy shout from my sitting room and I pulled my robe closed. He came running in, more exuberant than I had seen him in weeks. "Tony told me; Tony told me! He's making a doll of you, a Tatterton doll, and someday I might even have one on my shelf?"
"Oh Troy," I said, "you don't want to have a little girl's doll, do you?"
"It's not a little girl's doll," he said firmly. "It's a Tatterton toy doll and that's special, isn't it?" He nodded, expecting my agreement.
"I suppose it is," 1 said and he smiled.
"But Tony says I can't come see him make the doll with you. He can't be disturbed," he said sadly. "But I can be one of the first to see it when it's made.
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