Fire and Ice - Anne Stuart [84]
“I’m almost six feet tall, Lianne. I’d look like a scarecrow.” Though, come to think of it, that wasn’t a bad idea. Apart from her nightly quart of Ben and Jerry’s, she hadn’t had much appetite. Maybe she ought to just stop eating entirely, so that she could waste away—and then he’d be very very sorry.
Not that she was thinking of him. She didn’t even know who “him” was. She was just tired, and her mother was being even more annoying than usual.
“But clothes hang so much better when you’re a little bit underweight,” Lianne said.
“How would you know—you never wear any clothes,” Jilly grumbled.
Lianne’s hurt silence was evocative enough. Jilly should have known she wouldn’t let it go at that. “You’ve been spending much too much time with your half sister. Summer was always un-sympathetic, and now that you’ve come back from Japan you’ve been almost as bad. God knows why you wanted to go there, anyway—it’s filled with foreigners. Your sister may have been crazy enough to move there, but you’re my brilliant daughter. You should know better.”
“Summer’s got a Ph.D. in art history, Lianne.”
“Yes, but it took her the normal amount of time to earn it. And she didn’t even get into Harvard—she had to make do with Stanford.”
Jilly opened her mouth to protest, then shut it again. She just didn’t have the energy.
“I’ll make an appointment with Dr. Medellin,” Lianne said. “And with my nutritionist, and my astrologer and my aesthetician.”
Jilly stayed silent. Lianne was like a wave washing over her—all she had to do was keep her footing and she’d ebb away soon enough.
But Lianne hadn’t moved. She was looking at Jilly more closely than she usually did. “Your sister tells me you fell in love.”
“Summer’s crazy. It’s pregnancy hormones.”
Lianne shuddered. “Don’t remind me. I refuse to be a grandmother. I’m much too young.”
At another time Jilly would have easily distracted her—Lianne was always much more interested in discussing her own issues than anyone else’s, but even in the interest of self-preservation she couldn’t rouse herself. All she could do was run.
“I’m going out,” she said, pushing off the chaise.
Lianne brightened. “Well, that’s a good thing. Maybe you’ll stop moping. Are you going shopping?”
“Yes.”
“Where? I could come with you.”
“Little Tokyo.”
Lianne made a face. “I swear to God the Japanese have been nothing but trouble in my life. First there was Summer’s nanny, who turned her against me, then there was that crazy cult leader, then your sister marries someone who has all the warmth of Dracula, and now you come back from Tokyo looking like someone ate your dog. They eat dogs over there, you know.”
“No, they don’t, Lianne.”
“I think we should go to Paris. We could get you some new clothes.”
“No, Lianne.”
“Then why are you going to Little Tokyo? Why drive into the heart of downtown L.A. when you’re depressed? It’s not going to cheer you up. What’s there that you can’t find just as easily in Beverly Hills?”
There must be some way to shut her mother up. “A Hello Kitty vibrator?” she suggested.
Lianne shrieked—Jilly wouldn’t be surprised if she put her hands over her ears and began singing loudly to drown out the sound of her voice. Typical Lianne—for all her lack of modesty with her own knockout body, she was ridiculously prudish then it came to her daughter’s sexuality. Then again, it might have been something as simple as not wanting to be old enough to have daughters who were sexually active. Or inactive, as Jilly intended to be for the rest of her life.
“I’m kidding, Lianne. I’m just going to the grocery store.”
“For heaven’s sake, why? We have a cook.”
“I want octopus.”
It was enough to silence her. Jilly could feel her mother’s eyes on her as she headed for the ten-car garage, but she didn’t look back. Despite the bright Southern California sun she felt like ice, and she wasn’t going to let anything break through her cool, unearthly calm.
Driving in L.A. traffic was enough to keep her mind off other problems, but the moment she parked she realized she’d made a huge mistake. No one had flame-red