Chapter 36

Jenny walked home from the bus stop, thinking.  She sidestepped a broken beer bottle thrown out by someone the night before, musing at least she didn't have to dodge the broken crack pipes and used condoms like she had at her last place. 

She sighed deeply, passing the gas station and coming up on the corner with her favorite oak tree.  The weather was oppressively hot, humid, and overcast.  She imagined she'd see rain soon, a welcome change. 

Her house might be a dump, but the roof was OK.  She hoped.  She ran her hand over her hair, and pulled on her ponytail, thinking about Steve. 

She knew Lavon was right.  She was too attached.  She remembered the first time she'd met Steve.  He'd been the quiet guy across the street, the one she'd wave at as she checked her mail.  She'd secretly coveted his lovely rose collection.  He had so many healthy bushes lined up along his fence line, blooming almost every month of the year. 

He'd gotten her new ATM card, and brought it over in person.  He was an average looking guy with a receding hairline, brown hair he kept in a short buzz cut.  His face was tanned from his time outside, with a few middle aged lines that didn't seem to matter.  He liked to wear cargo shorts, even in the winter. They'd gotten to talking and hit it off.  In so many ways, he was the man she'd always hoped Charlie would become; strong, mature, quiet.  Level; not prone to Charlie's jealousy.  Even better, he was a man of faith.  They talked often in one yard or the other, and had gradually moved into kitchens, talking with their shoes kicked off and the windows open. 

She'd moved in the winter, so Jenny, manic, her first summer in her new home, had decided to dig up some garden beds.  She'd come straight home after work, changed into her grubbies and workboots, and preceeded to dig up a 20 foot stretch of grass, edging it and mixing in some amendments she'd had delivered. 

She had woken up on her back, under a tree, looking up at the sky, Steve's brown eyes looking down into hers, a mixture of fury and concern.  "What have you had to drink?" he'd demanded. 

"Nothing," she'd mumbled.  "I don't -"
"WATER?  Have you had ANY WATER?  Electrolytes?"  Steve was fuming.  "If your temperature doesn't go down I'll have to call an ambulance." 

Oh, no.  Jenny'd tried to stand, and Steve had pushed her down.  She whimpered, "Please don't send me to the hospital."  She was terrified of hospitals.  Steve, taking her pulse, had moved to hold her hand and peered down at her. 

"Jenny," he murmured "I don't want you on my table." For autopsy.  She swallowed.  His eyes burned a hole in her soul and she knew he was telling her he loved her.  She nodded, and he'd started plying her with drinks, putting ice packs on her chest, and she'd recovered. 

She had never gone out into the yard, in the heat, without drinking a quart of hydration drink and setting alarms for more drinks.  She didn't want to scare Steve like that again.  Not to mention, she'd been queasy for days afterward. 

She'd finally thought Charlie might let her go - and he'd come back.  What did that mean for Jenny and Steve? 

Steve was thinking the same thing as he watched a strange man climb on Jenny's roof.  The guy, wearing cutoffs and a t-shirt, appeared to be doing some sort of inspection. 

Steve doubted Jenny knew anything about it; she was intensely private and would never consent to someone wandering around her property unsupervised.  He debated going over to talk to the man, but decided that wasn't his business now. 

He would have, a month ago, but now the husband was back in the picture.  When he'd passed the guy, slumped over Jenny's fence as he went to work, he'd wondered if he'd get the guy on his table.  However, "just" a migraine, he'd recovered, and was working his way back towards Jenny. 

It was clear Paul/Charlie wanted her back.  No man spent that kind of money on Bibles because they wanted a divorce.  Or, maybe they did... to salve their guilt. 

Steve sighed and got a cold bottle of iced tea from the fridge, sitting on the porch and cracking it open.  He'd at least watch the place and make sure Jenny wasn't robbed.