Hmm, Jennifer. That must be my name now, she thought. Jennifer smiled and then walked out of her bedroom and then downstairs. The person she met in the living room (which was much bigger and better furnished than her old one) was definitely still her mother. But this Jane Merlin was different. She seemed younger, more vital, and sexier. She was dressed in something that the old Jane Merlin would never even consider wearing: a red mini-dress that showed off way too much cleavage and way too much leg. Her shoes were 4-inch stilettos.
"Hey, sweetie," she said, smiling at Jennifer.
"Hey, Mom," Jennifer answered back. She looked around at the spacious house, admiring it. "Are you the only one here?"
"Yes. Unless you count the maid," she said, clearly amused by the idea of counting her as a person. She had changed, Jennifer realized. It oddly pleased the teen. Her mother hadn't exactly been someone Jennifer would look up to, regardless of what Jon would think.
It was easier to think of herself, and she had started using female pronouns, as a she and Jennifer, distancing herself from the loser she remembered being. "Where is everyone then?"
"Are you expecting company? Who else would be here?" Jane said, confused.
She looked around, and spotted a painting above the mantle. Her parents...the improved versions, and herself. It looked a few years old. It was the only picture of the family in the room, which was decorated with what could be called fine art...or at least expensive art. No freak sister or bratty brother. "No," she said.
"How about we go out to dinner, sweetie? Just the two of us. Unless you have plans with your friends?"
