Chapter 15. Jenny #2
But Alice would never have a conversation with Jenny’s mother.
She and Robert weren’t at their cliffside house, drinking cocktails and listening to Sinatra records.
They were probably at the morgue. Would they have funerals?
Who would be there? The town would be talking about Simon and Jenny.
We knew they were no good. As soon as she got with that boy …
Jenny’s heart was racing too fast, memories swallowing her up.
She rolled onto her side. The baby was moving.
Soft flutters. She ran her hand over her belly, wondering if it could feel her.
Simon was convinced it was a boy, but she felt like it was a girl.
Her daughter. What would she call her? Nicole?
Amy? Heather? She thought of baby names until her eyelids grew heavy.
In the morning, she and Simon took turns in the bathroom, then Jenny changed into a lavender sundress that had puffed sleeves and floated loose around her belly.
Most of her clothes needed to be washed now.
She and Simon had run away in such a hurry she’d barely had time to grab anything.
She needed a shower. Alice probably wanted one too.
“We have to let Alice and Tom shower,” she said to Simon.
“If we all shower in the RV, it will fill the tanks.”
“You and I can use the public washroom.” Simon opened his mouth as though he was going to argue, so she quickly added, “We can go at separate times.”
He rubbed at his forehead, looking toward the front windows. “Okay.”
Jenny sat at the dinette, nervously smoothing her fingers over the wrinkles in her dress, while Simon untied Alice, who gathered up clothes, and moved toward the RV shower.
“Don’t take too long,” Simon said. Alice didn’t look at him or Jenny, and just closed the door with, what felt like to Jenny, an angry click.
When Alice came out, she looked better, with pink cheeks, and a sunflower-patterned halter top and green pleated shorts.
Her eyes were still shadowed, though, and her damp hair was drying into curls that sprung in all different directions.
“I can braid your hair,” Jenny said, and then felt her own cheeks grow hot when Alice stared at her.
Jenny knew what she was thinking. They weren’t sisters or friends.
Still, she couldn’t help wanting the older woman to like her, to understand that she wasn’t a bad person.
She missed how it was before. Alice helping with the Band-Aids, bringing them water and blankets, smiling when Jenny had dug into her pancakes. Like it made her happy.
Simon moved to the back and helped Tom get off the bed.
“I have to help him undress,” Alice said. “He could fall.”
“Keep the door open.”
Simon searched through the cupboards and fridge while the couple were in the bathroom.
Jenny felt awkward, listening to Alice and Tom.
Their murmurs. Clothes dropping. The shuffling steps and the random thumps as one of them hit against a wall or the counter.
Jenny gazed out the window as if that would give them more privacy. Soap-scented steam filled the RV.
The shower shut off. More movement, a gasp of pain, an apology.
Alice came out with Tom, who was still using his tank top as a sling but was now wearing a pair of red nylon shorts.
The bruises on his legs had turned blue and purple.
They must hurt a lot. Alice kept her arm around his waist as she guided him to the bed and eased him down.
His face was strained and pale. Jenny grimaced.
She couldn’t imagine what it felt like to have a broken collarbone.
The area from his neck to his shoulder was horribly swollen and such a dark purple it looked painted.
Alice took two pills from the bottle of Tylenol on the counter, helped Tom drink some water, and replaced his frozen bag of vegetables.
“Alice, get over here and make some breakfast.”
“One second.” Alice’s voice was tight, as though she was biting back all the things she wanted to say. Jenny didn’t like how Simon was ordering Alice around. The mean tone. He sprawled across from her on the other side of the dinette and caught her worried look.
“What?”
“Do you have to be rude?” she whispered.
He leaned across the table. “They have to be scared of us, remember?”
She did remember, but it still made her uncomfortable. He’d been abrupt with her a few times too. She told herself that it was just because he was stressed.
“I’ll make breakfast.” She got to her feet. Simon looked like he wanted to say something else, but this time he stayed silent. She wondered what might be easy to cook. Fried eggs?
“I can do it.” Alice had come to stand beside her.
“No. I want to.” Jenny set a frying pan onto the stove and got the carton of eggs out of the fridge.
She cracked one into the pan. Parts of the shell landed on top of the yolk.
She picked the pieces out. She tried another.
It broke too. She got a third egg but stood frozen.
What were they going to eat if she wrecked them all?
She hadn’t turned the stove on. Was she supposed to do that first to heat the frying pan?
She couldn’t remember. She stared at the knobs.
Not long after Robert and her mother had gotten married, Jenny had tried to make them breakfast in bed. Robert had been cooler toward Jenny now that they were living in the same house, and she’d worried he was having regrets. Maybe he didn’t want a kid around after all.
She’d found a cookbook, decided on an omelet, but the omelet had broken apart, the oil spit all over the stove, and she’d caught the tea towel on fire.
She’d panicked and tossed it on the floor, where it continued to burn and filled the kitchen with smoke.
The alarm’s shrill beeping had woken Robert and her mother, and they had come running.
Robert stomped on the towel, while her mother picked up the pan and scraped the charred omelet into the garbage.
That night her mother served two perfect omelets. Light yellow, dusted with thinly sliced chives, a salad on the side. One for herself, and one for Robert. Jenny was only allowed salad. Punishment for the mess. The scent of smoke. For ruining their morning.
Jenny couldn’t seem to make herself move. Now Alice was beside her, taking the egg from her hand, moving the pan to the side, and flicking on the stove. Blue flames whooshed up.
“Like this.” Alice tapped the egg on the side of the pan and showed her how to separate the two halves.
Jenny tried to focus, but she wanted to cry.
She had no life skills. How was she going to take care of a baby?
She had to learn. She’d learn everything she could.
She’d buy books. She’d become the best cook.
The best mom. She took a breath and stood straighter.
“Can you show me how to fry them? My dad used to like them sunny-side up.”
Alice looked at the mess in the pan, then back at Jenny.
“How about we start with scrambled.”
“Oh, yeah. Okay.”
Jenny went first to the washrooms, keeping her head down and avoiding eye contact with any other campers. It was early, but the air already smelled of campfire, coffee, and bacon. People moved around their sites, setting up for breakfast or taking down their tents.
When Jenny was finished with her shower, which had been mostly cold because she didn’t want to wait for the water to warm up, she dressed quickly and hurried back.
While Simon took his turn, she huddled in one of the lawn chairs outside the RV, a towel wrapped around her head in a turban.
Even though Alice and Tom were tied up, Jenny couldn’t stand the feeling that they hated her, that in the silence they were probably thinking of ways they could escape.
It was already hot when the four of them left the campground, the sun glaring through the windshield. Alice flipped down her sunshade and tried to grab her sunglasses on the dash, but she was taking a corner and the sunglasses slid away, nearly falling out the passenger window.
Simon caught them and held them out to her.
From where Jenny sat behind them at the dinette, she could see Alice’s profile as she glanced at Simon, hesitating, before taking the sunglasses and putting them on.
Simon directed Alice to drive through the downtown area.
He hunkered low in his seat, and put his elbow on the seat’s armrest, bending so that his hand blocked his face.
Jenny followed his lead and slid the dinette window curtain halfway across the glass, so she could see out a bit, but people couldn’t see in.
“What are you looking for?” Alice said.
“A thrift store,” Simon said. Jenny couldn’t see Alice’s expression, so she didn’t know if she thought it was strange, but Alice didn’t ask any more questions.
Simon’s orders to Alice became more abrupt as she struggled to drive the big RV down the narrow streets, taking the corners too wide, and nearly missing a stop sign. Jenny gripped the edge of the table and Simon slapped the dash, making Alice and Jenny jump.
“Watch it!” he said.
Jenny felt bad for Alice. Maybe she could help navigate. She slid to the end of the bench seat so she could see through the windshield. A blue sign up ahead caught her attention.
“Is that a thrift store at the end of the block?”
Simon leaned forward, waiting until they got closer, then said, “Sure is. Good catch, babe.” He smiled at her over his shoulder, and she felt a surge of pride. She could do this.
They parked in a nearby lot. Alice turned off the engine and in the sudden silence, Jenny heard her deep exhale and noticed the way Alice rubbed her palms on her shorts.
Simon handed money to Jenny. She slipped it into her pocket.
“Get some clothes that are too big, glasses, hats—and gloves. We’ll need those.”
Jenny folded her arms over her chest and rounded her shoulders as she walked down the street.
She hoped she picked out the right things.
She had to be smart about it and think. If she made a mistake, Simon could be recognized.
Jenny wondered what it would be like to go shopping for herself one day.
To see something in a window or on a hanger that she liked and buy it.
Her mom had chosen all of Jenny’s clothes.
She’d have Jenny try on outfit after outfit, making little disappointed sounds, a huff or sigh, a wrinkle of her nose, until she found something tolerable.
Jenny pushed open the door and jerked to a stop as a bell chimed.
She caught her breath and held her hand to her heart.
It was only a doorbell. She had to calm down.
An older woman with silver hair teased into a beehive gave her a friendly smile from behind the counter.
Jenny tried to return the smile without eye contact.
While she browsed, she kept her head down.
She flipped through men’s shirts and suit jackets.
The hangers sounded so loud on the metal rods.
Swish, swish, scrape. She pulled out a men’s blue silk button-down, then put it back.
Too fancy. Simon wasn’t going to the disco.
But what if he wanted clothes that would be distracting?
She wished he had given her more instructions.
Jenny stopped by a shelf of baby items and picked up a butter-yellow outfit with a tiny duck pattern and snaps down the legs.
She glanced over her shoulder. The woman was busy unloading a box.
Jenny cradled the baby outfit in her arms, shifting her hips and imagining rocking her baby like the mother she had seen at the rest stop.
Feeling foolish, she put the outfit back.
She examined the small shoes, hats, blankets.
She ran her fingers over a knit pair of baby socks, so impossibly small.
At the far end of the store, she found cribs and highchairs.
She studied them while rubbing her belly.
When were babies big enough for highchairs?
She needed to learn so much. She looked for a baby book but there weren’t any on the shelves.
She returned to hunting for clothes and found two pairs of stained and patched denim farmer overalls and two plaid shirts, which she draped over her arm.
Next, she found two checkered bandanas, a baseball cap, knit gloves, and a black cowboy hat.
In a box of Halloween decorations, Jenny dug out some costume glasses.
One with rhinestone rims and yellow lenses, the other a bulbous nose and mustache.
She tucked the smaller items inside the cowboy hat.
She moved over to the toy section and discovered two cap guns. Did they look realistic? Simon had a real handgun, but maybe Alice would need one too. Even if it was fake.
Jenny added the cap guns to her collection and brought everything up to the counter.
She paid for the items, carefully counting the wrinkled bills out on the counter.
The woman kept smiling at Jenny as she folded the clothing and chatted about the weather.
Jenny answered with murmurs and pretended to be busy searching for something in her purse.
Finally, the woman handed her the large brown paper bag.
“Do you need help carrying anything to your car?”
“No thank you.”
She forced herself to exit the store slowly, but once she was outside, she walked briskly, with her arms around the heavy bag, the bottom of it resting against her belly.
When she was in sight of the RV, the door swung open.
Simon was waiting.