Page 51 of Spoiling Lillian
“Words, Lillian. You are not a heathen. It’s rude to shake your head. Have I taught you nothing?”
I lift my brow but stay silent.
She gasps again, her eyes wide. “For God’s sake. What the hell are you wearing? This place looks like children live here. You’re dressed like you’re twelve. I assume your slutty sister had a baby. The child could be three by now. Or maybe she was pregnant when she ran away from home. Was she?”
I roll my eyes. My mother is a bitch. I know for a fact that the only man Simone has ever slept with is Camden. She’s not a fucking slut. “No, Mother. Simone does not have any children.”
“Then that means you’ve followed in her deviant footsteps. Why?” she shouts. “What did I do wrong that both my girls are so so so… I don’t even know what the hell you are.” Her high-pitched rant is grating on my nerves.
“Little, Mom. If you cared about Simone, you would have done your homework and accepted her for who she is. Instead, you treated her like she’d broken some cardinal sin. And yes, I find I’m enjoying the lifestyle, too. It’s refreshing.”
My mother rubs her forehead. “Do you know how embarrassing it is to have both my daughters run away from home like ungrateful sluts? Your father and I raised you to be upstanding members of society, and both of you have thrown it back in our faces. It’s appalling. Everyone at the country club is talking about me behind my back. I’m humiliated.”
Now we’re getting to the heart of the reason she’s here. I’ve embarrassed her. It’s hard to keep from laughing, which I kind of want to do just to see her face turn red. It’s hard to fluster my mother, but she sure is today. And how dare she pretend my father had anything to do with raising us. The man probably couldn’t identify me or Simone in a lineup from all the attention he never paid us. He certainly didn’t “raise” us as she implies.
“Enough is enough, Lillian. It’s time to come home. It’s not too late to save face. I’ve told our friends that you went to visit your sister for a few weeks. It’s been two months. Get your things. I already have us booked on the afternoon flight to Chicago.”
I smirk. She’s certifiable if she thinks I will drop my life and obey her. Though, now that I think about it, she really believes that’s what’s going to happen. She’s delusional.
“How did you find me?”
My mother rolls her eyes. “Don’t be so naïve, Lillian. I’ve known where Simone was for the last four years. It took my investigator less than a day to confirm you were staying at the same address.”
I purse my lips. It was naïve of me to think it would be hard for her to locate us. She’s right. She has money. She can easily buy information.
She marches toward me but then stops several yards away. “On second thought, you don’t need to bring anything. Grab your purse. Let’s go.” She glances at her watch. “We have time to stop at a boutique and get you some decent clothes.” She shifts her gaze down toward my feet. “Good grief, Lillian. Why the hell are you wearing sandals? You look ridiculous. And your dress is obscene. It’s far too short. Where’s your sense of modesty? Are you even wearing a bra?”
I nearly jump out of my skin when another knock at the door startles me.
Nerves eat at me as I turn to open it. This will definitely be Bryson, and I hate that he has to meet my damn mother. It wasn’t in my plans for this week…or ever.
I’m frazzled and barely holding it together as I open the door, but I’m not too unnerved that I don’t appreciate the man smiling at me. He looks so fine I want to grab his head and pull him down for a deep kiss.
“Hey, Baby,” he says, oblivious to what’s behind me. “How do you manage to look even more stunning every time I see you?” His face falls an instant later, probably because he has noticed mine.
I take a deep breath and open the door farther. I’m not looking forward to this, but it’s not something I can stop. Bryson, prepare to witness an indoor tornado.
His gaze lifts to look beyond me. “Oh, you have company,” he says politely. He has to realize who this is. For one thing, yesterday he verbalized his fear of her showing up. For another thing, I look just like her.
My mother steps closer. “Who’s at the door, Lillian? Oh, are you with maintenance?”
I turn sideways, unable to keep from rolling my eyes.
“It’s a Sunday. Whatever you’ve come to fix can wait until tomorrow. My daughter and I were just leaving.” My mother clutches her purse tightly as though Bryson might make a grab for it and take off running.
Bryson, being far more couth and polite than my mother, ignores her brash comments, leans toward me, cups my cheek, and kisses me on the lips. He holds my gaze for a moment before stepping inside.
He lifts a hand toward my mother. “You must be Lillian’s mother. I’m her boyfriend, Bryson Royce.”
My mother gasps and takes a step back. Her eyes are so wide they have to hurt. She doesn’t shake Bryson’s hand. She ignores it entirely. Her gaze jerks to me. “Surely you jest, Lillian. You can’t possibly be dating the maintenance man.”
I roll my eyes hard yet again. “Bryson doesn’t work for the apartment complex, Mother. But you know that. You’re being rude. And it shouldn’t matter. I can date whoever I want. All that matters is that he treats me like spun gold.” I’m not even going to bother to tell her what Bryson does. It’s not important and won’t make a difference.
“You shouldn’t be dating anyone, young lady,” she spits, her face beet red. “You’re engaged.”
“I am not engaged, and you know it. You should leave. Bryson and I have lunch plans. I don’t know what you’re doing in Seattle, but if you came here thinking you could talk me into returning to Chicago, you’re wrong. This is where I live. I’m never going back, nor am I ever marrying a man you chose for me. I doubt Herman knew you were planning an engagement party. You probably bulldozed him, too.”
My mother gasps yet again. “Lillian! I did not raise you to talk to me like that. What’s gotten into you? You’ve had two months to gallivant and sow your wild oats. It’s time to come home and take your place in the family. You have duties.”
