Chapter 17. Jenny #2
When they were finished eating, they took turns washing up.
Jenny wished she could have a shower—her hair felt lank and dirty—but they were conserving water.
She brushed it back into a high ponytail.
When she stared in the mirror, she looked familiar.
Like the girl who used to wear her hair slicked into a bun so tight she would get headaches.
Jenny didn’t want to see that girl ever again.
She tugged her hair free of the ponytail and shook it out.
They reached Kimberley a short while later.
Jenny looked around in confusion. The town looked like photos she’d seen of Europe in National Geographic magazines.
The mountains that surrounded the town were so crisp against the clear blue sky they didn’t look real.
The streets were lined with white, cream, or green stucco buildings, decorated with dark wood trim, and painted shutters like on gingerbread houses.
Most of them had balconies with overflowing flower boxes.
The store signs had fancy lettering, some offering pretzels, schnitzel, or beer.
“What the hell is schnitzel?” Simon said.
“Meat pounded flat, then breaded and fried,” Alice said. “It’s German.”
“This town is weird,” Simon said.
The downtown center was closed to traffic, so they had to drive around until they found a grocery store. That building was low and wide, modern, with an orange metal roof and an all-glass front that reflected the RV as they drove past. They parked under a tree behind the store.
Alice made a list of groceries, then Jenny changed into one of her sun dresses that wasn’t too wrinkled, picked up her purse, and walked to the store’s front entrance.
She found a shopping cart and wrapped her palms around the metal handle, grateful for something to lean on.
She was even more grateful for the store’s air-conditioning after crossing the hot pavement in her sandals.
She heard male voices and glanced at the corner of the store, where there was a small coffee shop with a glass display of pastries.
A few men sat around a table, talking and drinking coffee. One of them was reading a newspaper.
Jenny immediately looked away and pushed the cart down an aisle. What if her photo was in that paper? Maybe she should walk out. She reached up to touch her hair. No. She looked different. She was just a girl out shopping. Those men would never think she was a criminal.
She unfolded the shopping list. Barbecue sauce. She was already in the condiment section. She studied the array of sauces, relishes, ketchups, and marinades. Alice hadn’t said anything about flavors. Jenny picked out a bottle of Kraft.
She rolled around the corner and stopped so fast the bottle toppled over in her cart. She made no move to fix it. She was frozen, staring at the couple in an embrace halfway down the aisle. Her mother. Her mother was in the store and kissing a dark-haired man. Robert.
Jenny blinked. Blinked again. They were still there. Ghosts. She was seeing ghosts. Had she lost her mind? She had to get out of there, but her feet had turned to concrete blocks.
The woman’s hands were in the man’s hair. His hands were on her buttocks. Roving. The woman giggled and pulled away. Now Jenny could see her face. Not her mother after all. Similar in blond hair and shape, but this woman was shorter, with a longer nose and thinner lips.
The man was in a suit. Not as stylish as Robert, not as tidy. His hair was floppy, his face shiny, and his chin round—not square. The woman straightened his tie and smoothed his lapel.
Unwanted memories. All the men her mom would bring home, kissing at the doorway or on the couch.
Her mother fussing over Robert when he was leaving the house, when he was going to a reading.
When another woman was around. Or even if Jenny was in the room.
Her mother would lean into him, pressing her breasts against his arm, and open-mouth kiss him, laughing when Jen fled the room.
Like it was all a funny game. Worst of all, the noises they’d make in their room down the hall so that Jenny needed a pillow over her ears.
The woman turned. Her eyes widened when she first saw Jenny in the aisle, but then the corner of her lip curled. As if Jenny was the gross one. The woman said something to the man.
Now he was staring at her too.
Jenny wheeled away. The store that had seemed so refreshing before now seemed ice cold. The hair on her arms stood up. She swallowed hard.
She made it through the list, grabbing the items Alice had written down, and whatever else caught her attention. She had no idea how much it would cost. She felt woozy, her stomach turning like she might be sick. Was the baby moving? Was it supposed to feel like that?
Jenny fanned her face as she went through the checkout. The cashier was young, maybe the same age as Jenny, but with long reddish hair and freckles that ran across her nose and down her arms, and a cheerful singsong voice as she chatted about the heat.
“Are you visiting?”
Jenny stared at her, wondering what the question meant.
“You’re not from here. I know everyone who lives in town.”
“Oh, yeah. We’re driving through.”
“Have you seen our cuckoo clock yet? It’s the tallest in the world.”
Jenny shook her head.
“If you put a coin in the clock, Happy Hans comes out and yodels.” She laughed and glanced up from bagging the groceries like Jenny was supposed to say something.
“Why do you have a cuckoo clock?”
The girl gave her a confused look, which made Jenny worry that she was supposed to have already known the answer. Her head was spinning. She rested her hand on the counter.
“We’re the Bavarian City of the Rockies,” the girl said. “When the mine shut down, they wanted to do something to get tourists.” She shrugged. “It’s fun.”
“Fun.”
She was just repeating what the girl said. Like she couldn’t find her own words. She was so stupid. Jenny’s stomach cramped along the side. She flinched and dropped her hand to her belly. What was that pain? The cashier looked down at her stomach with a confused expression.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just an upset stomach.”
The girl gave Jenny the total, and she gave the girl a handful of money and let her count it. She hurried with the cart out to the parking lot and realized that she’d made another mistake. She had too much food to carry. The pavement was so hot.
She pushed the cart around the edge of the building, moving so fast she nearly tripped on her sandals, and smacking her chest into the handle of the cart. She righted herself.
The RV was in sight. She looked over her shoulder again. No one was watching. But other shoppers were getting out of their cars. Did they see the silly girl running with her cart?
She stopped the cart behind the building and lifted as many bags as she could.
The RV door was opening. Alice was walking toward her, helping with the rest of the bags.
She was looking at her strangely. Her eyebrows pulled together.
Jenny didn’t give her a chance to ask anything.
She climbed into the RV, set her bags on the table without speaking to Simon, who’d gotten to his feet.
His hand grazed her arm as she rushed past him to the bathroom.
She closed the door and pulled down her underwear.
Blood.