08/30/2023
A page from "Her Name Is Lillian:"
We’ve not made much progress, the four of us. None of the others want to be here. I look at Lillian, who is, I know by the form in front of me, 15 years and 6 months old and 5 feet and 5 inches tall. She weighs, Madeline’s scale tells me, 98 pounds. With her shoes on. She has high cheekbones and beautiful gray eyes that seem way too big for her face, like an anime drawing. A waif. She is behind in school, even though I suspect she is brilliantly intelligent. She is lovely and fragile and tough as nails, I think.
I say her name, “Lillian.”
She turns from the window and looks at me full on for the first time. Her head tilts back, her chin points straight at me and her lids fall half-way across her eyes. It is apparent to me that she is, above all else, extraordinarily angry. Enraged, in fact.
“Would you like to come see me for a while? On a professional basis?”
For an instant, she looks startled, as if she is surprised that I would be asking her what she wants to do. Then the curtain comes down again.
“Not really,” she says, as if the idea is revolting.
Marion starts to say something, and I hold up my hand. “This is between Lillian and me, please.” The mother’s jaw muscles stand out, but she holds her tongue.
“But will you?”
“I don’t have a choice, do I?”
“Yes. You do.”
“They say I have to.” She doesn’t look at her parents, but the implication is clear.
“Your mom and dad,” I begin, and I might have poked them all with the same red-hot iron. Interesting, I think.“Your mother and father,” I say, and everyone twitches again, “want you to enter therapy for your eating problem . . . ”
“I don’t have an eating problem,” she interrupts. “I just don’t eat.”
"Her Name Is Lillian." will be released October 1, in conjunction with National Book Month. Join us at Vanderford's Books in Sandpoint on October 7 for a reading and signing.
