“Well, then why don’t you go meet them and quit harping at me about meeting them? I can’t go. I have plans.”
“Change them.”
“No.” Gillian clenched her fists, her back straight. Butterflies danced in her stomach at the very idea of defying her mother.
“What did you say?”
“I said no.” Feeling like she was six years old again, Gillian stared at the furious glower on her mother’s face. Gone was any trace of the beauty Barbara strove to show the world. Instead, a dark, cruel, hate-filled mask had twisted her features. Fidgeting in place, she chewed on the inside of her lip, the need to look away strong.
“Get dressed. I will not be late.”
“Get out.” Gillian stood her ground, her heart racing, her mouth dry. “I’m not going. I have plans.”
“Gillian Rebecca, you ungrateful—”
“No, I’m not ungrateful. I’ve had enough. I’m not going to your tea. I’ve got plans of my own today. I’ve got appointments and I’m not going to be steamrolled into parading around like a dutiful daughter.”
Barbara glanced at her watch, her lips curling into a sneer. “I don’t have time to argue the point with you. Do as you are damned well told, Gillian. I have—”
“Get out.” Gillian stormed past her mother and jerked open the door. “In case you’ve forgotten or not noticed, I’m not six. You don’t control me. Now, you have a choice. You can leave or I will throw you out.”
“I’ll deal with you later.” Barbara stalked toward her and met her cold stare head on. “I should have taken you in hand when you were younger. Or shipped you off to a boarding school. Ungrateful, disrespectful little brat is what you are.”
Her head flew back with the force of Barbara’s slap, her jaw stinging. Tears burned, but she refused to back down. “Please leave, Mother.”
With an indignant sniff and a low curse, Barbara vanished out onto the porch and down the steps. The door slammed shut with the force of her ire. Gillian leaned against it, her shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs. She brushed at the tears on her face and headed for the kitchen and the freezer. She pulled out an ice pack and held it to her cheek as she reached for the phone.
Gillian ignored the tremble in her fingers as she dialed a familiar number. “You have reached Doctor Reimer’s office. The office is now closed. In case of an emergency please contact her at…” Gillian hung up and dialed the cell number. After leaving a message, she shuffled to the bedroom to dress. She pulled drab gray sweats, a long, holey T-shirt, and woolen socks from the bottom dresser drawer.
Duster in hand, she set to work cleaning the bedroom. Clothes were pulled from the drawers unfolded, refolded, and put back in. Under the bed was vacuumed and washed and the bedding changed.
The angry peel of the phone gave her a start. She scrambled across the bed to grab it. “Hello?”
“Gillian, you called?” Doctor Reimer’s voice filled the receiver.
“Yes.” Her breath exploding on a fresh bout of sobs, she sank onto the bed, her knees pulled up to her chest. “I stood up to her!”
“Calm down, Gillian. I’m proud of you for being firm. Now, take a few deep breaths … that’s right.” Doctor Reimer’s voice soothed her frayed nerves. “Good for you. What was she harping about now?”
“A ladies tea: basically a bunch of her friends get together to drink and tell horrible stories about their other friends. She wanted me to go and I refused. I threw her out.”
“Bravo. Excellent.” She laughed softly. “I’m proud of you. I take it she didn’t like your defiance.”
“No.” Gillian palmed her jaw. Barbara had definitely not liked it. “She was rather impressively angry. After she left I cried. I was so shocked and happy at the same time. I needed to tell someone.”
“You know my number, call at any time. You did a good job.”
“Thank you. I just don’t understand.”
“Understand what? Your ability to stand—”
“No, my mother. Why is she so vicious? I don’t think I’ve ever done anything to warrant such an attack, but she seems to be constantly at me.”
“I don’t know, Gillian, there are many reasons why she’d be so adverse to you. I can’t really explain it, Gillian. I wish I could. However, I would have to say she exhibits signs of a narcissistic personality. Just be careful, and don’t be afraid to stand up to her. You’re stronger than you think.”
“I guess.” Gillian tensed at the ringing of the doorbell. “Uh-oh, I have to go. Someone’s here.”
“Your mother?”
“She just lets herself in; there’s someone at the door.” Gillian wiped at her eyes and inhaled shakily. “I’ll let you go. See you on Tuesday.”
“See you Tuesday.”
Gillian hung up, wiped at the tears drying on her cheeks, and hurried to the door. A glance at the clock revealed it was close to ten. Her mother would be too busy to harangue her for at least another three hours. She swung the door open and stared at a tall, sandy-haired boy dressed in threadbare jeans and a ragged T-shirt smiling at her.
“Uh, hello?” Sticking her head out the door, Gillian glanced down the steps.
“Yeah, hi.”
“Hi, is there something I can do for you?”
“Hi, my name’s Todd. I’m wondering if you have anything you’d like help with? I’m trying to earn enough to buy a new bike.”
“Um, well, not really. I mean, I don’t—”
“I can wash windows or your car, and I’m a hard worker.”
“I’m sure you are.” Gillian raked a hand through her hair. From his lanky frame, she figured he needed a few meals in his belly rather than a new bike. Where was his mother? With a faint sigh, she offered a smile, her resolve strengthening. “I don’t have anything at the moment, but if you’re interested I
