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“Change your name?Run away? You’re out of your mind! You’re giving in already? Where is your backbone? Where is your pride?”
Her mother’s ringing tone made Liv’s head throb. Reasoning with Amelia Endicott was difficult under the best of circumstances, and these were far from the best. “Pride isn’t the issue,” she said. “I just—”
“An Endicott does not hide and cower and skulk! You should be proud! Grateful for the sacrifices your family has made so that you could have all these privileges! Go look at the statue of Augustus Endicott in front of the library, and reflect upon all that he did for you!”
Yeah, giving T-Rex a perfect opportunity to blow her head off with a sniper rifle, at his leisure. Liv squeezed her reddened eyes shut to block out her mother’s outraged countenance. Right now, cowering and skulking sounded very good to her. Very calm and restful.
“Sure I’m proud of being an Endicott, Mother,” she said wearily. “But this guy is trying to kill me. I don’t want to be dead. That’s all.”
“Stop being overdramatic,” Amelia Endicott snapped. “Are you insinuating that I don’t care about your safety? I’ve tried your whole life to help you make all the right choices, and have you ever listened?”
Liv forced herself to exhale, and slowly inhaled again. “This is not my fault.” The words fell one at a time from her lips, like little rocks.
“Saying ‘it’s not my fault’ will get you nowhere. Just look at yourself!” Her mother gestured at the mirror on the dining room wall.
Liv looked, and wished she hadn’t. She was wild-haired, hollow-eyed, white-lipped, grimy. A chimney sweep from a Dickens novel, but for her out-of-control bosom. Just one more of the many things that offended Amelia Endicott. She’d tried for years to convince her daughter to get those indecorously bouncy boobs surgically reduced. Ouch. Not.
Her father gave her an uneasy look. “Honey, maybe you should ease off,” he murmured, in a wheedling tone. “It’s been quite a day.”
“All I want is what’s best for her.” Amelia’s voice quivered on the edge of tears. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“I know that.” Liv fought off the weariness that rolled over her like a tank whenever she argued with her mother. “The policewoman told me that changing my name and starting over is an option to consider when you’re dealing with a dangerous—”
“Not an option,” Amelia said crisply. “Not for you. Other families prominent in politics or business make high security part of their lifestyle. They simply adjust their attitude and expectations!”
Liv sighed. “But I—”
“Your father and I are willing to invest in round-the-clock protection so that you can live your normal life as an Endicott!”
Liv tried again. “But I don’t—”
“I don’t want to hear that negative attitude,” her mother warned. “You’ll have to give up this whim of running a bookstore, of course. Far too much exposure. The same goes with library work. I can’t fathom why you ever wanted to do anything so dusty and fusty in the first place, but never mind. Let it go, and move on, honey!”
“But I’m not fit for anything else,” Liv protested. “All my training and education is in literature and library science.”
“You can do what I’ve been trying to persuade you to do since you were in college,” her mother announced triumphantly. “You can go into the advertising department of ECE! Any location you like, darling. Seattle, Olympia, San Francisco, Portland, Spokane. You could work from home if you preferred. You’re so creative and imaginative, Livvy. You were wasted as a librarian, or a shopkeeper, for God’s sake. In fact, this whole thing might just end up being a blessing in disguise.”
Hah. Liv gritted her teeth. “I wouldn’t be any good at—”
“Nonsense. You’d be brilliant. And the best thing about it is that anywhere you worked, you’d be guarded by ECE corporate security! Imagine what a load off our minds, honey! Knowing that every day, you’re as safe as if you’re locked in a bank vault!”
Liv winced. “I’d go bonkers if I worked for ECE.”
“Stop doubting yourself, Livvy! We’ve always believed in you!”
Believed in who? Whoever this person was that Amelia Endicott so ardently believed in was light years away from the daughter she actually had. But there was no point in trying to make her understand.
“We’ll find a high security condo, wherever you decide to settle,” her mother went on. “You’ll have to give up all that hiking and running, but you can work out indoors. There’s always grocery delivery…”
Her mother’s babble faded into a faraway hum in Liv’s ears, as if she were alone beneath a glass bell. She thought of her mother’s collection of antique dolls in the parlor of her Seattle town house. Each stood alone, stiffly poised, a perfect ceramic smile on each painted face.
Pretty. Content with their lot. Happy to please. Compliant.
It was so painful, disappointing her mother for the umpteenth time. Forever rowing against such a powerful current wore her out, but this current was pulling her towards a deadly waterfall.
She thought of the life in store for her. No more wandering on hiking trails, staring at the mountains. No more walking on fog-bound beaches, watching the surf wash away the tracks of the seagulls. No more cuddling at night in her armchair in the ramshackle house in the pines, reading fantasy and sci-fi and romance novels. No more morning jogs, watching the sunrise. No more poring over book catalogs as she decided what to stock. No more ripping opening boxes of shiny books, leafing through crisp pages, making notes of what to read later. No more reading to starry-eyed little kids at Story Hour.
