The art teacher regarded the boxers with a sort of astonished surmise, and gestured for Tex to drop that final garment as well. But Tex, stubbornly refusing, draped himself across the divan that had been set up, and struck a pose.
Chanda, shaking his head at this lack of artistic finesse, decided to leave the doctor be, and said,“Ladies and gentleman. Pick up your pencils and… go!”
Vesta locked eyes with the good doctor for a moment, and the man’s color deepened even more, if that was possible. Then he looked away, the blush of shame that had mantled his cheeks quickly spreading along his neck and chest, until he looked the victim of some dangerous disease.
Good thing they were obliged to draw in black and white, Vesta thought, or the result of today’s class would have been a study in scarlet.
CHAPTER 12
[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]
Art class had finished by the time we got home from our trip into town, and something very disturbing must have happened, for Marge and Tex weren’t on speaking terms. Marge had stormed into the house, followed by a disconsolate-looking Tex, though judging from Gran’s smiling face whatever drama had befallen our family, it couldn’t be all bad, for she was grinning from ear to ear.
“What’s going on?” asked Odelia when Gran breezed in for a little chat.
“You’ll never guess,” said the old lady.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” asked Odelia. “I just saw Mom’s face and it spelled storm.”
“She should be proud. Your dad has launched himself in a new and promising career.”
“What career?” asked Odelia, clearly as puzzled as the rest of us.
“He’s a male model now.”
And as she spoke these words, she burst into a torrent of laughter.
Odelia wasn’t laughing, and neither was Chase. “A male what?” he asked.
“A male model. The regular model was a no-show, and so the teacher introduced a replacement. Imagine our surprise when it turned out to be Tex!”
“But why?”
“How should I know what goes on in that man’s head?” She shook her own head. “I’ve always said that these medical men have too much brain in those heads of theirs, and sooner or later something has to give. Looks like your dad has finally gone over the edge and is now in cloud cuckoo land.”
And with these words, she abruptly left, clearly eager to have a first-row seat to the drama that was unfolding next door.
“My dad, a model,” said Odelia, still shocked.
“I don’t believe it,” said Chase. “Your gran must have misunderstood.”
“Yeah, obviously. Why would my dad suddenly want to be a model?”
But since no more explanations seemed forthcoming, we decided it was time to leave for cat choir. After all, the affairs of humans are all very fascinating, but at some point they have to take a back seat to the affairs of cats, our first priority.
And so the four of us headed out, traipsing along the sidewalk, wondering what had induced Odelia’s dad to change careers all of a sudden.
“He probably needs the extra money,” said Harriet. “Life is getting more and more expensive, as we all know, and Tex must have decided to take a second job.”
“I don’t think being a male model pays the big bucks,” I said.
“No, but it does,” said Harriet. “Everyone knows that a model has to start somewhere, and probably Tex is trying to break into the big leagues by taking it one step at a time.” A sort of dreamy look had stolen over her face. “Soon he’ll be walking the catwalk in Paris, London, Milan andNew York for Fashion Week. I’m sure he’ll be one of the most-sought after male models of our time, and then, who knows, maybe he could even break into the movie business and become an actor.”
“Tex is too old to be a model or an actor,” said Brutus.
“No, he’s not. The industry needs models of all ages,” said Harriet. “And besides, I think Tex still looks pretty good for his age, don’t you?”
Brutus chose to wisely keep his tongue.
I didn’t think Tex had the right look or the right age to launch himself as a top model either, but then I wasn’t really interested in that side of the man’s career.
At least, I wasn’t until Dooley made a remark that set me thinking.
“If Tex drops his job as a doctor, who’s going to pay the bills?” he asked. “And if no one is paying the bills, who’s going to buy us food and litter?”
“Oh, dear,” I said. Dooley was right, of course. Since it’s very hard for cats to hold down a job, we depend on our humans to keep us in the style to which we’ve become accustomed. “I hope Tex isn’t foolish enough to drop his job as a doctor.”
“Haven’t you listened to a word I said?” said Harriet. “Tex is going to hit the big time, I’m sure of it. Before you know it he’ll be on the cover ofVogue.And let me tell you, those models make more money than a measly small-town doctor.”
Somehow I didn’t think this was so, and even if it was, the chances of Tex becoming a top model and being on the cover ofVoguewere slim to none.
“Isn’tVogue for women only?” Brutus ventured.
“I’m sure they’ll make an exception for an exceptional talent,” Harriet said.
And as the discussion raged on, suddenly I thought I heard something behind us. When I glanced back, I distinctly saw movement. Someone or something furtively ducking into the bushes lining the sidewalk, moving out of sight.
Odd, I thought. But when I tried to bring this to the attention of my friends, they were too busy discussing Tex’s future prospects—or lack thereof—to bother.
And as we finally reached the park, I had this strong sense of foreboding, and when I glanced back once more, I clearly saw a flash. And this time I was more certain than ever: it was the light of a streetlamp reflecting on a smartphone.
Someone was filming us!
CHAPTER 13
[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]
“Honey, what were you thinking!”
“I was thinking about you, with that naked model artist guy,” said Tex miserably as he carefully folded his pants and draped them over the back of a chair.
They were in their bedroom, where no prying eyes or inquisitive voices could interrupt them. Marge was washing her face with a special lotion preparatory to applying the even more special—and costly—cream she’d recently bought on Scarlett Canyon’s instigation. A cream designed to keep her looking young forever, if the commercials were to be believed. And even though by all rights she should be mad at her husband, thinking back to the moment he’d been lying there, in thoseridiculous pink boxers, once again brought a smile to her face.
“At least you could have worn a decent pair of boxers,” she now said.
“I had no idea I was actually going to have to be a model!” Tex cried, sitting down on the bed, bouncing down once, then bouncing up again, too wired to sit still for even one second. “All I wanted was to talk to your teacher. Tell him to switch from live model drawing to still lifes. But themoment I arrived he seemed to think I was volunteering as a model, and before I knew what was going on, he had me in a dressing gown and mounting that stage!”
“I thought you’d managed for the other guy not to show up.”
“I had nothing to do with that. And Chekhov didn’t seem to know either.”
Marge laughed her tinkling laugh.“You should have told Chanda you’re a doctor, not a model.”
“I did tell him. More than once. But I don’t think he heard.”
“He was probably glad to have someone—anyone to model for us.”
“I can’t believe he actually made me go through with that,” Tex grumbled.
“And I can’t believe you agreed to go through with it,” said Marge. She smiled at her hubby of twenty-five years. “Though I have to say you still have what it takes, honey. You were a big hit.”
“I don’t care. This was the first and last time I’m doing something like this.”
“Are you sure? You could turn this into a career. Quit medicine and go into modeling full-time.”