Authors: Elise Whyles
Gillian’s eyes flew open at the slow glide of her fingers down her body, the first hint of the dark curls between her legs. She clamped her legs together and lay panting in the water.
No, I won’t. I can’t. Sure you can. It’ll feel good, just like before.
Gillian shook her head at the nagging voice. Nothing good would come of her touching herself. The memory of her mother’s irate face when she’d caught her as a girl flashed before her mind’s eye before the memory of Jack’s touch washed over it.
Confused, she pulled the plug, rose, and wrapped a thick towel around herself. The soft slap of bare feet against tile filled the air as she danced to the bedroom. She pulled on the heavy nightgown she wore most nights, along with a pair of simple white briefs, and curled under the sheets. Ignoring the blinking alarm clock, she closed her eyes, her mind a tangled, racing mess of thoughts and emotions with no grounding point.
Chapter 9
“Gillian Rebecca, are you up yet?” Barbara’s furious tone pulled Gillian from a sound sleep. Bolting upright in bed, she spat a curse at her mother’s intrusion. “Gillian Rebecca!”
“What do you want, Mother?” Gillian stormed into the living room. “I told you I have—”
“And I told you to cancel them.” Barbara sniffed, her eyes sweeping over Gillian with utter disdain. “Don’t you have any decent nightwear? That thing looks like a burlap sack, hardly befitting a woman of your age. Or rather it suits you. Sexless as a rug. Come along, shower and dress. I’ll do your hair for you. The Ladies Club will be at the house in about half an hour and I despise being late.”
“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 might be able to use your help at the museum. It’s five dollars an hour and I’ll feed you.”
“Like what?”
Gillian sighed at the doubt and hope in his voice. “Cleaning up and stuff. Here’s my office number. I want you to call me on Monday, okay? As long as your mom and dad don’t mind.” She picked up her purse and dug through for one of her business cards. Pulling a blank one out, she made a mental note to get more. After jotting down her office number, she handed him the card with a smile.
“Oh, Mom won’t mind.” Todd shrugged. “She works lots. Thanks.”
Gillian leaned on the doorjamb and watched him dart off with a half-smile on his face. Straightening, she closed the door and appraised the apartment. She needed to get some boxes, packing tape, and start looking for a new place to live.
* * * *
The impatient buzzing of his phone drew a strangled curse from Jack as he pulled to a halt beneath a couple of trees. He glanced at the picnic basket sitting on the seat beside him and smiled. Gillian would be surprised, but he wasn’t going to give her a chance to get cold feet over their relationship.
“Hello.”
“Jack, where are you?”
“Busy, Lenny. What’s up?” Jack checked his mirrors, impatiently tapping the steering wheel. For some reason, the man had decided he needed to be a more active participant in his life. It bothered him; after all, his interest seemed to be only since his interest in Gillian had become known. In spite of their longtime friendship, Lenny was driving him crazy harping on something he had no right to.
“Barbara’s tied up with some function and I was hoping to get together for a coffee if you’re up to it.”
“I’m picking up a date to go on a picnic. Why not check with the guys at the station? They’d love to have coffee with you.”
“You’re too funny. Look, man, I need to talk to you. It’s kinda important.”
“Well I’m busy, I’m going on a date. Can’t it wait?”
“No.”
Jack groaned. “Whatever it is will just have to. I’m not going to back out of a date because you suddenly want to turn into a chatterbox.”
“Damn it, Jack, I told you before, Gillian isn’t the kind to get tangled up with. Rick told me he saw you and a girl out last night—from what he told me of her I’d have to guess it was Gillian. Rick figured you were at a work-related dinner, but your work isn’t a wine and dine type job.”
“What, now you’ve got Rick spying on me? That’s low even for you, Lenny. And just to answer your question, yes, it was Gillian.” Jack heaved a breath.
Great, what’s Lenny thinking, getting a cop to watch out for my ass?
“And she’s nothing like her mother says she is. Trust me on this.”
“Look, you’re setting yourself up for a fall. Barbara knows her daughter.” Lenny paused. “Be careful, Jack. Something tells me you could break this girl if you don’t handle her with kid gloves.”
“Breaking her isn’t my plan, Lenny. Keeping her is. Look, I gotta go. I’m gonna be late. Don’t worry, I’ll behave myself.”
“You better.”
Jack tossed the cell onto the dash and pulled back into traffic. He turned into Gillian’s parking lot and slammed on the brakes as a lean boy of about twelve darted out in front of him. From the looks of the kid, he’d missed more than one meal. He watched until the boy vanished out onto the sidewalk and rolled over to where Gillian’s car sat.
He left the basket in the cab, slammed the truck door, and headed up the stairs to Gillian’s door. With a knock on the door, he turned to glance behind him. Manicured lawns, wrought iron gates, the complex looked upscale. The lock clicked a second before the door swung open and Jack turned, his jaw dropping along with the blood in his body at the disheveled look of Gillian.
Chapter 10
“You’ll have to call… Oh, Jack.” Gillian gaped at him, shock in her eyes. “I didn’t expect … that is, I thought you were leaving to see your mother.”
“I am. She’s at bridge until lunch so I told her I’d pop over tonight.” Jack gestured over his shoulder. “I came to see if you wanted to go on a picnic with me?”
“Um, well I was cleaning the house. I have to work tomorrow so I try to get all caught—”
“It’ll keep.” Jack grabbed her coat and keys from the stand before hustling her out the door. “Come on, all work and no play will turn you gray.”
“But my purse, my cell?”
“You won’t need them,” Jack promised, his hand on her back. He opened the truck door and helped her inside, pausing to admire the wool socks on her feet. “Shoes might have … naw, they’re optional.” The truck rocked when he slammed the door.
Gillian gaped at him as he cranked the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. “What on earth? Jack, I’m not sure this is such a great idea. I mean, I have a ton of work to do before tomorrow.”
Hearing the faint note of panic in her voice, he glanced at her. He reached over and took her hand, lacing their fingers together. “It’s a picnic, Gilli, and there’s no need to worry. You’ll be home in plenty of time to finish up whatever you need to do for tomorrow.”
The drive out to the picnic area was quiet, Gillian plucking at her socks, her T-shirt, a pensive, thoughtful look on her face. As they pulled in she gave a weak smile. “I know this place. I used to come here ages ago when I was in high school. We would come out here and park…” Her voice petered off, a flash of something akin to sadness in her eyes.
“You mean you and your dad?”
“No.” Gillian tensed, a haggard, drawn look on her face. “Me and Mike. What did I know? I was just a girl back then. As dumb as dishwater. If I’d known, maybe it would have made a difference.”
The mysterious note in her voice revealed a lot. It didn’t take but a moment for him to figure out Mike was someone who didn’t bring out the best memories. “Who’s Mike? He still around?”
“I used to date him. Before you ask, he’s someone I’d rather not talk about.” Gillian shivered, fear and shame darkening her eyes. “He’s not in my life anymore and I’m happy about that.”
Hoping to lighten her mood, he grinned a cocky grin. “You, dumb? Somehow I doubt you were ever dumb.” Jack parked beneath a pair of old spruce, their boughs spread out over the clearing, offering shade from the spring sunlight. “So, other than history and dinosaurs, what do you like to do?” He rifled through the basket, pulled out a thermos, and set it between them. A moment later, he reached in for two cups and handed one to Gillian.
“I like to have bubble baths.” Gillian’s cheeks darkened to a pale pink, a smile tugging at her lips. “And candles. I love to read as well. I just finished a great book on Canadian history. What can I say? I like the boring things in life.”
Jack paused, his stare rising to her face. Nervous energy filled her, and an uneasy look shadowed her eyes. Setting the thermos aside, he reached over and cupped her jaw. “Gilli, it’s me. Nothing to be worried about. I meant what I said the other night.”
“Oh, I know that.” Gillian waved aside his words. “It was nice of you to try and soothe my ego by telling me you’d like to have sex with me again, but I’m aware of my own shortcomings.”