Chapter 23

Charlie pulled over in an office/warehouse complex and turned to look at Jenny. "I hope you don't mind" he murmured "If I run by the office for a minute. I'd like to show it to you, anyway." Jenny nodded. "It's not the best area..." Jenny began to snicker as she surveyed the area. Streetlights lit a semi-industrial area that reminded her of home. A used car dealership squatted next to an oil changer. One of Houston's ubiquitous taco stands shared a corner with the oil change facility. It was a lot better than her Bible handout location and a hell of a lot better than their first apartment. She rolled her eyes at him.

"Charlie" she began somberly. "I think your misunderstanding has been a huge source of problems in our marriage. I'm not fancy. In fact fancy places have brought me a lot of pain. I was happiest with you in our first apartment. Remember that? I told the landlady about the drug dealer and she asked which one I'd seen?"

"'Which one," Charlie murmured. "And then she gave you the lecture about 'snitchin'."

"Yeah" Jenny nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I was happiest with my mom in a 2 bedroom trailer. I was happy with you in a crime-ridden dump. I don't need a fancy place to be happy; they make me nervous. Like I said, bad things happen in fancy places." She fought back the memories of her aunt's apartment. The hardwood floors, gloriously decorated bedrooms, and stone countertops had concealed a lot of evil. The nicely furnished home Charlie had rented had hidden his devotion to the cult and criminal misunderstanding of her needs.

Charlie nodded sadly, reading between the lines as he often did. "I didn't help." Jenny gave him a one shoulder shrug.

"I know my home isn't much, Charlie, but it's mine. It's a safe place I've made for myself and my cat. It meets my needs; access to a bus line, very quiet evenings, and a garden. If things get better," When they got better, Charlie vowed. "I can expand a little. I know my house has some issues; so I've been looking at used mobile homes."

Charlie started. He hadn't known that. At least he wouldn't have to tell her - what - she couldn't live there? Oh, yeah, that would go over great.

But her house was a dump.

"So," Jenny brightened her tone of voice. "Show me your office. Or do you call it 'The shop'?"