crisp cleanliness of the room.
“You make yourself at home and I’ll be right downstairs.” Maudene turned to leave but hesitated. “We’ll have to talk, you know, when you’re ready.” Jenny remained silent. “I know someone we can call and talk to about your situation. A social worker.”
Jenny froze. An icy claw of fear scraped against the back of her neck.
“But not until you’re ready,” Maudene said and quietly closed the bedroom door behind her.
Jenny untied her father’s t-shirt that was wrapped around her waist, neatly folded it and set it on the bedside table. Wearily, Jenny sat down on the very edge of the bed, being careful to not let her grubby fingers touch the petal-pink blanket. Her eyes scanned the beautiful room and exhaustion and disappointment pricked at the tender spot behind her eyes causing tears to puddle. Social workers meant trouble and she knew that it was already time to move on, to try and find her grandmother on her own, but fatigue pinned her to her spot and she closed her eyes. Just for a minute, Jenny thought. Then I’ll go.
When Jenny awoke, she felt a warm, moist breeze on her neck and pulled the sheet up to her nose. She wondered if someone had come into the room and opened the window. Jenny did not like to sleep with the windows open. Images of rabid dogs and free-floating vampires climbing through her window made her heart hammer in terror. She blamed her father. One weekend he insisted on watching a marathon of horror movies based on the novels of some writer who he said made a bazillion dollars scaring the shit out of people. Jenny tried not to watch. Turned her back to the television and busied herself with painting her toenails with the bright pink polish that she picked from the prize box in her classroom. It didn’t matter, though; cemeteries for pets and men with axes kept crowding into her brain.
She looked toward the windows and found the curtains lying still against the panes. Then her bleary eyes fell to the side of the bed, where Dolly, breathing heavily, stood looking hopefully up at her. She sat up with a start, realizing where she was and a renewed sense of urgency to leave pawed at her chest and she swept her legs over the side of the bed. At least there wasn’t any white foam dripping from the corners of the dog’s mouth, Jenny thought to herself. “Go away,” she whispered at the dog, whose mournful eyes regarded her solemnly. Despite herself, she reached out and patted Dolly’s head, so dark brown it was nearly black. She ran her fingers beneath Dolly’s chin where a crop of white whiskers framed the old dog’s muzzle, and the dog raised her chin and closed her eyes in bliss.
“Ah,” came Maudene’s voice from the open doorway. “I see that Dolly found you. You’ve been asleep for a few hours. You must have been tired.” Jenny wiggled her toes and closed her eyes, suddenly shy in the older woman’s presence. “When you’re ready to get up, come on downstairs and I’ll fix you something to eat. A sandwich, or I have some leftover meat loaf in the refrigerator.”
Jenny, not used to being given any options for meals, except when they went to the Happy Pancake, where she swore she would never, ever eat again, usually could only find cereal or peanut butter and crackers, the meager provisions her father scraped together. Maudene, to Jenny’s surprise, was not wearing her blue-and-yellow waitress uniform, but was dressed in a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved t-shirt. “Thanks,” she said shyly.
Maudene smiled. “You’re welcome. I’ll see you downstairs.”
Jenny rummaged through her backpack hoping to find, by some miracle, a brand-new outfit inside. She didn’t want to go and meet her grandmother for the first time wearing her denim shorts with the hole in the pocket, and her favorite pink polo and skirt now looked faded and frayed. She thought of the envelope filled with money—maybe Maudene would take her to Walmart for
“You make yourself at home and I’ll be right downstairs.” Maudene turned to leave but hesitated. “We’ll have to talk, you know, when you’re ready.” Jenny remained silent. “I know someone we can call and talk to about your situation. A social worker.”
Jenny froze. An icy claw of fear scraped against the back of her neck.
“But not until you’re ready,” Maudene said and quietly closed the bedroom door behind her.
Jenny untied her father’s t-shirt that was wrapped around her waist, neatly folded it and set it on the bedside table. Wearily, Jenny sat down on the very edge of the bed, being careful to not let her grubby fingers touch the petal-pink blanket. Her eyes scanned the beautiful room and exhaustion and disappointment pricked at the tender spot behind her eyes causing tears to puddle. Social workers meant trouble and she knew that it was already time to move on, to try and find her grandmother on her own, but fatigue pinned her to her spot and she closed her eyes. Just for a minute, Jenny thought. Then I’ll go.
When Jenny awoke, she felt a warm, moist breeze on her neck and pulled the sheet up to her nose. She wondered if someone had come into the room and opened the window. Jenny did not like to sleep with the windows open. Images of rabid dogs and free-floating vampires climbing through her window made her heart hammer in terror. She blamed her father. One weekend he insisted on watching a marathon of horror movies based on the novels of some writer who he said made a bazillion dollars scaring the shit out of people. Jenny tried not to watch. Turned her back to the television and busied herself with painting her toenails with the bright pink polish that she picked from the prize box in her classroom. It didn’t matter, though; cemeteries for pets and men with axes kept crowding into her brain.
She looked toward the windows and found the curtains lying still against the panes. Then her bleary eyes fell to the side of the bed, where Dolly, breathing heavily, stood looking hopefully up at her. She sat up with a start, realizing where she was and a renewed sense of urgency to leave pawed at her chest and she swept her legs over the side of the bed. At least there wasn’t any white foam dripping from the corners of the dog’s mouth, Jenny thought to herself. “Go away,” she whispered at the dog, whose mournful eyes regarded her solemnly. Despite herself, she reached out and patted Dolly’s head, so dark brown it was nearly black. She ran her fingers beneath Dolly’s chin where a crop of white whiskers framed the old dog’s muzzle, and the dog raised her chin and closed her eyes in bliss.
“Ah,” came Maudene’s voice from the open doorway. “I see that Dolly found you. You’ve been asleep for a few hours. You must have been tired.” Jenny wiggled her toes and closed her eyes, suddenly shy in the older woman’s presence. “When you’re ready to get up, come on downstairs and I’ll fix you something to eat. A sandwich, or I have some leftover meat loaf in the refrigerator.”
Jenny, not used to being given any options for meals, except when they went to the Happy Pancake, where she swore she would never, ever eat again, usually could only find cereal or peanut butter and crackers, the meager provisions her father scraped together. Maudene, to Jenny’s surprise, was not wearing her blue-and-yellow waitress uniform, but was dressed in a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved t-shirt. “Thanks,” she said shyly.
Maudene smiled. “You’re welcome. I’ll see you downstairs.”
Jenny rummaged through her backpack hoping to find, by some miracle, a brand-new outfit inside. She didn’t want to go and meet her grandmother for the first time wearing her denim shorts with the hole in the pocket, and her favorite pink polo and skirt now looked faded and frayed. She thought of the envelope filled with money—maybe Maudene would take her to Walmart for
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