direction, and once she got the lay of the land, she thought she would investigate them further.
After walking for miles and sometimes hours, she would return to the house and log onto the computer. Sheâd ditch the clompy shoes and baggy pants and sit at the computer in her oversize shirt and panties, total comfort, total privacy, totally at home in Louiseâs cozy little house. This house with the dark, warm colors, the woods and wools, florals and plaids, was so completely different from the sterile condo in Fort Lauderdale. From the beach to the desert. She thought she would grieve for the sound of crashing waves, but each morning when she woke she hugged herself. It was so calm here. So quiet. So uncomplicated.
Her life here was so blissfully ordinary. She never would have guessed this kind of simplicity could be so comforting. She felt lucky to wait tables, walk Alice, explore Boulder City and email back and forth with Louise, and it was no longer just because it kept her safe from Nick.
Most of their emails were just daily newsâLouise would report on the bookstores she visited, historic sights she never tired of, and the weather. Jennifer would mention who came into the diner, pass along hellos from Buzz and the gang and tell her where sheâd been walking that day. She lived for those emailsâit brought her out of herself in a way she couldnât have predicted.
Dear Doris,
I was thinking about you this morning as a whole group of little schoolgirls passed me on the street and I couldnât help but wonder, where is your mother? What kind of childhood did you have? Youâre so wonderful with Heddaâdo you have siblings?
Love,
Louise
Childhood. Being raised by Cherie Chaise was like growing up in a three-ring circus. Manic episodes followed by deep depressions; unstable romantic interests that had them moving all over the country interspersed with running home to Grandma and Grandpa in Ohio. Cherie was whimsical and full of big dreams and the most loving and vulnerable person alive. When that great energy would come upon her, she could take a job and do the work of ten women. Cherie had even been a waitress more than once, and unsurprisingly her tips were huge. But then sometimes it was not a job that soaked up all that manic energy, but perhaps a lover, and she would throw herself into a relationship that Jennifer knew, even when she was very, very young, wouldnât last very long. Or, a great idea would seize her and she would launch into music and acting lessons to become a star, a shopping spree through an office-supply warehouse to start a business. Once they got on a bus with the intention of riding nonstop across the United States from ocean to ocean.
And then she would crash, unable to lift her head, to eat, to wash. And then she would rise! And again they would fly! And laugh and sing and dance! And crash. Time and again Grandma and Grandpa would come to them, fetch them home and beg Cherie not to take Jennifer away again. Jennifer needed stability, they pleaded.
But Cherie needed Jennifer and Jennifer needed to protect her mother.
It was while growing up that Jennifer learned how to take care of herself, how to entertain herself and how to be safe in the most unsafe conditions. She counted seventeen different schools, even though she counted only one school the eight different times she stayed in Ohio. Of course she was a loner; how could she be otherwise? She couldnât have friendsâCherie needed her full attention. And she dared not bring friends from school home, there was no telling what might be going on. The shift in moods could be rapid fire. Cherie might be talking to the walls, hallucinating after days of sleeplessness. Or she could be ensconced in darkness.
Something dawned on her. Perhaps, as an adult, she hadnât eschewed friendship out of necessity because she was always committed to a rich older gentleman. Possibly it had just become a way
After walking for miles and sometimes hours, she would return to the house and log onto the computer. Sheâd ditch the clompy shoes and baggy pants and sit at the computer in her oversize shirt and panties, total comfort, total privacy, totally at home in Louiseâs cozy little house. This house with the dark, warm colors, the woods and wools, florals and plaids, was so completely different from the sterile condo in Fort Lauderdale. From the beach to the desert. She thought she would grieve for the sound of crashing waves, but each morning when she woke she hugged herself. It was so calm here. So quiet. So uncomplicated.
Her life here was so blissfully ordinary. She never would have guessed this kind of simplicity could be so comforting. She felt lucky to wait tables, walk Alice, explore Boulder City and email back and forth with Louise, and it was no longer just because it kept her safe from Nick.
Most of their emails were just daily newsâLouise would report on the bookstores she visited, historic sights she never tired of, and the weather. Jennifer would mention who came into the diner, pass along hellos from Buzz and the gang and tell her where sheâd been walking that day. She lived for those emailsâit brought her out of herself in a way she couldnât have predicted.
Dear Doris,
I was thinking about you this morning as a whole group of little schoolgirls passed me on the street and I couldnât help but wonder, where is your mother? What kind of childhood did you have? Youâre so wonderful with Heddaâdo you have siblings?
Love,
Louise
Childhood. Being raised by Cherie Chaise was like growing up in a three-ring circus. Manic episodes followed by deep depressions; unstable romantic interests that had them moving all over the country interspersed with running home to Grandma and Grandpa in Ohio. Cherie was whimsical and full of big dreams and the most loving and vulnerable person alive. When that great energy would come upon her, she could take a job and do the work of ten women. Cherie had even been a waitress more than once, and unsurprisingly her tips were huge. But then sometimes it was not a job that soaked up all that manic energy, but perhaps a lover, and she would throw herself into a relationship that Jennifer knew, even when she was very, very young, wouldnât last very long. Or, a great idea would seize her and she would launch into music and acting lessons to become a star, a shopping spree through an office-supply warehouse to start a business. Once they got on a bus with the intention of riding nonstop across the United States from ocean to ocean.
And then she would crash, unable to lift her head, to eat, to wash. And then she would rise! And again they would fly! And laugh and sing and dance! And crash. Time and again Grandma and Grandpa would come to them, fetch them home and beg Cherie not to take Jennifer away again. Jennifer needed stability, they pleaded.
But Cherie needed Jennifer and Jennifer needed to protect her mother.
It was while growing up that Jennifer learned how to take care of herself, how to entertain herself and how to be safe in the most unsafe conditions. She counted seventeen different schools, even though she counted only one school the eight different times she stayed in Ohio. Of course she was a loner; how could she be otherwise? She couldnât have friendsâCherie needed her full attention. And she dared not bring friends from school home, there was no telling what might be going on. The shift in moods could be rapid fire. Cherie might be talking to the walls, hallucinating after days of sleeplessness. Or she could be ensconced in darkness.
Something dawned on her. Perhaps, as an adult, she hadnât eschewed friendship out of necessity because she was always committed to a rich older gentleman. Possibly it had just become a way
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