Half In Love With Death Read Online Free

her head. “I don’t think so.”
    â€œThen who is?”
    She shrugged. “Beats me.”
    I stood there, letting the possibility that Jess was miles away sink in. This was why she’d insisted that I not tell anyone about her sneaking out. She needed time, lots of it, so she could get away from all of us.
    â€œI doubt she’ll get very far,” I finally said. “She’s probably on her way home right now.”
    â€œSure she is,” Debbie said with a funny half smile. I stood there, unable to move, as she went on, “Gotta go, ’cause I’m going out with Tony tonight.” She eyed me just to make sure I’d heard that last part and then left, her hips swaying as she walked across the green lawn through sun and shadow. I watched as she gave me one last backward glance. She didn’t wave or anything. All she did was stare. Trash, I thought.
    â€¢ • •
    I went up to my room to figure out what to do. I had to tell Mom that Jess was on her way to California, but if I told her she’d know I’d lied, and I never lied. Maybe Jess would get bored like she always did, and make the guy turn around and drive her home. She could still walk in at any minute. Or maybe she really was going to see Arnie, or couldn’t wait to start her movie career.
    When we went to California to visit my aunt Lila, my parents shamelessly encouraged Jess’s Hollywood dreams, probably because they hadn’t realized their own. They made sure she saw everything—Madam Tussauds wax museum, Sunset Boulevard, Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, and Schwab’s Pharmacy where Lana Turner supposedly was discovered. Jess was obsessed with Lana Turner. She was under the delusion that they looked alike. Beverly Hills was my favorite. I loved the mansions with red-purple bougainvillea dripping over their high white walls, and the hint of movie stars in the air.
    I pulled out the blue glass stopper from the bottle of Shalimar on her bureau and sniffed. It had a thick, sweet smell, like velvet flowers. I repeated to myself, “She’s on her way to California.”

CHAPTER 4
    Slanting sunlight made every detail in the kitchen stand out—the ceramic rooster hanging on the wall with its creamy wings and blood-red comb, the shiny teapot on the stove, the wallpaper printed with clocks with vines slithering around them. Mom and Dicky were back from shopping and he was having an early dinner.
    She pointed toward a bolt of yellow cloth on the counter and asked if I liked it. As I nodded, I had the weird sensation that something big and wide was watching through my eyes. It wasn’t me, but was me at the same time. God? It didn’t feel like God. It was more as if I was spying on this world that I used to be part of, but was part of no longer.
    Mom smiled. “Jess will be happy to know we’re having her favorite, tuna casserole.”
    Without meeting her gaze I said, “She’s not home.”
    â€œShe sure doesn’t like to spend much time with us,” she said.
    Dicky plucked a pea from his plate. “I saw her hiding in the tree last night.”
    Nervousness crept through me, like wind rippling water. He must have seen her climb out the window. I turned to him slowly. “No, you didn’t.”
    â€œWhat’s he talking about?” Mom fiddled with her gold watch.
    I shrugged. “You know how Dicky makes stuff up.” It felt like the room was getting smaller and smaller. Soon the walls would close in on me.
    Mom’s expression softened. “Would you like an early dinner, too?” Before I could answer, she went on, “You don’t have to wait. Dad’s always late from golf, and Jess, well you know how she is. I wouldn’t wait for your dad if I didn’t have to. I get so hungry, but he’d have a fit if I ate before him. He does like his little rituals, and supper is one of them.” Her words were like