Jilly-Bean (Jilly-Bean Series # 1) by Celia Vogel Read Free Book Online Page A

shivering. Have a seat here away from the draughty windows, Jilly-Bean,” cried her Aunt Jean. “And what's all this nonsense I hear from your father about you living in a house in the fall? Why aren't you moving into residence, like all the other students?” Aunt Jean looked over her shoulder to give Ruth Crossland a mischievous wink. “Your poor mother must be a wreck.”
    “Oh, she'll be fine.”
    “But, Ruth, how can you let her live all by herself in a strange city?”
    “Jilly is a responsible girl, she can take care of herself. She's quite mature for her age.”
    Jillian was distracted and looked anxiously around the room at the guests assembled. There was her brother, Adam and Olivia in a far corner talking to city councillor Peter Paradis and his wife Jennifer. She could make out bits and pieces of conversation: Adam was talking loudly about the Canadian penal system, exuding confidence and looking quite the expert, while Olivia, who stood a good five inches shorter than Adam's six-foot-three frame, was nodding enthusiastically and smiling. Mrs. Sparks, an old friend of the family, was sitting next to her husband, a man who said very little and refused to make eye contact with guests, preferring instead to focus on some object or other, maintaining a fixed smile as everyone else talked. Mrs. Sparks was a heavy-breasted Texan in her late forties who imagined herself to be twenty years younger. She looked bored as she reached for a drink and took a few sips; then her eyes darted quickly around the room and abruptly locked with Jillian's as she realized that Jillian had been watching her all along. Jillian's grandfather was sitting in the corner to one side, away from the guests. Growing up, she had never really thought much about him. She had found him mysterious, even then always sitting alone in gloomy silence. Now he looked even more yellowed than she ever remembered him to be; but then she realized that the chair he was sitting on was of crushed yellow velvet and would make anyone who sat there look like he had jaundice. His head was drooped forward on his chest; his breathing was laboured and came through his mouth. She wondered whether he was asleep. But then, as if sensing the weight of Jillian's stare, he raised his head and regarded her in silence— a movement that she found quite startling. She smiled back at him, although she knew full well that he was nearly blind and couldn't see her. There had been plenty of talk about his developing cataracts in both eyes.
    Tea was ceremoniously brought in, accompanied by a large tray of tiny crackers with a soft pink paste.
    “Ginseng is supposed to be a great memory-booster, especially as one gets older,” announced a small woman who bore a strong resemblance to a Chihuahua with her pointy chin and very thin face. Jillian had been introduced to her, but the name had slipped her mind. The woman was sitting next to a man who was obviously her husband, a large overweight man with a pot belly. He was leaning back, trying to make himself comfortable in the best and most comfortable armchair in the whole room. There were extra cushions supporting his back as he sipped a cocktail and studied Olivia.
    The woman with the Chihuahua face continued, “I drink ginseng tea three times a day and I've noticed a significant improvement in my memory and attention span.”
    “It's a Chinese medicinal, is it not?” added Aunt Jean firmly, as she helped herself to a second cup of tea.
    “Yes, apparently in rural China, they drink eight cups a day. This probably explains their long lifespans.”
    Granddad Crossland's head shot up and he looked absently about with a somewhat blank expression. Jillian saw that the whites of his eyes were stained with a yellow film, giving them a cloudy, unfocused appearance. Although he seemed to be following the discussion, if the truth were told, he was almost completely deaf. “Sponge?” he blurted out suddenly: “What's this about a