knew that Julia and her mother ran the show, made the recital and concert schedules, handled everything from the time she got up until the time s he went to bed, they might not be so envious. Or would they? Sh e supposed she didn't know or care anymore .
What Shona did k now was, she was tired of her life. Other girls her age , including Kitty, were all in their second year of college while she was still under her mother's and Julia's educational thumbs . Other girls went to parties. Shona was stuck at home watching Masterpiece Theater or studying some sort of cultural etiquette that Julia insisted she learn. Other girls dated. Shona, not really interested in the opposite sex at the moment anyway, was still jealous of th e freedom of choice normal girls had. More than once Kitty had made the comment, "Geez Shona, are your parents planning on sending you to a convent or what?"
Or what indeed , she mused feeling as if she was to be sent somewhere. She could speak four languages for crying out loud and was working on a fifth. She spoke proper English. Something others teased her about. And she was well tutore d by Julia as to what was acceptable for a young lady to do or say in not only the twentieth century, but the fifteen th through nineteenth centuries as well . On the other hand, she could also fence and land a man smack on his back in the wink of an eye. "Martial arts and fencing are excellent workou ts." Julia would exclaim along with, "A girl can't be too careful now a days! It's best to know how to defend one's self."
Careful? If she counted, Shona could come up with at least a dozen ways she'd been taught how to land a man in the dirt ! A lot of good all tha t training had done her though when she really needed it …
Shona shuddered and pushed the incident she was about to think of aside as her mother pulled up in front of their first stop. She looked longingly at all the normal people inside eating and chatting away. She continued to watch the m as she got out of the car, choked back the cold emptiness she'd learn to battle over the last few months, and told herself she'd just have to accept the facts. It was , after all , the logical thing to do.
There were no if and s or buts. She wasn't some astounding musical sensation to be envied. She was a freak.
* * *
The W hittard women ate breakfast then headed to the town’s northeast side to pick up Kitty. Maggie chatted pleasantly while Shona contemplated where she might need to throw up. The strange a ll-consuming emptiness which often encompassed her , tight ened its hold every now and then , threatening to suck the life from her. Just when she thought she could stand it no longer, it would be gone. Or was it? Logic, logic, there has to be an explanation ! She kept telling herself as they drove the last few blocks before finally arriving at their second destination of the morning.
Both women sighed as they pulled up in front of Kitty’s house. Shona from relief; she could always count on Kitty to make her feel better. Maggie out of dread; Kitty annoyed her the same way she annoyed everyone else except Shona.
“What are you doing?” Shona asked as Maggie began to dig through the glove compartment of the car.
Maggie pulled a small green bottle out and clutched it as if her life depended on its conte nts. She shook it and relief fl ooded her face. “We’re here to get Kitty-kat, aren’t we?”
“Yes.” Shona said, puzzled, then comprehension dawned. “Oh, mother! She’s not that bad.”
Maggie fought desperately with the lid on the aspirin bottle. “Easy for you to say. She doesn’t aff ect you as quickly as the rest of us. Face it, kid. I’m not made of steel like you. I’ve got to prepare myself.” She popped the lid and let two pills fall into her hand. “You get Kitty-kat. I’ll be putting my armor on.” She tossed the aspirin into her mouth and swallowed hard, grimacing as she
Legs McNeil, Jennifer Osborne, Peter Pavia