Jenny woke up slowly, surprisingly comfortable. Her tongue felt like a piece of dried leather in her mouth, and she reached out for her water bottle. She flipped up the straw and took a long drink.
"Dry mouth" didn't cover it, she thought slowly. At least she hadn't woken up with a migraine, like...
Charlie.
She could hear him snoring behind her in bed, and recalled her dream. She hadn't had The Dream in years. Jenny sighed as she concluded the stress of Charlie had flipped the switch again.
Please God she thought quietly not for another couple years, huh? She slowly crawled out of bed. The sofabed was pretty comfortable, but the "mattress" rested on the floor. She had a cheap foam topper, which kept her pretty comfortable, but it was always hard, literally, "getting up" off the floor!
Charlie lay on his back, snoring, dressed in cotton boxers. He looked good, she admitted, he must have been working out. Jenny remembered how shocked a much-younger Charlie had been, to find her deadlifting in the high school gym.
"You'll hurt your... parts!" he'd stammered. She had carefully placed the barbell on the floor before replying.
"Charlie, I can't have kids anyway. How is lifting something going to hurt me? What about the woman in other countries? They carry huge weights all the time and do tons of manual labor - and they have tons of kids." He'd blushed, but gone off and done his chest presses as she finished her deadlifts.
Jenny had actually saved up and bought herself a basic set of free weights, after leaving Charlie and buying the house. She loved to get out there and crank out some reps, the Gospel Metal blasting. Jenny began humming a tune as she changed out of her cotton knit shorts and t-shirt, into a sport bra, baggy t-shirt, and knit shorts.
She sighed quietly as she opened the back door to the house, the porch light illuminating the metal storage container. It had come cheap, she thought. She'd actually bartered some yard work and caregiving and paid the rest in cash.
A lot of caregiving, she thought. And Mr Jones had been rather difficult. A head injury patient, he'd hurt himself driving drunk, paralyzing himself from the chest down. He needed help with bathing and housework, screaming at her if things weren't done to his satisfaction. She'd actually found an online support group, learning quite a bit. He hadn't trusted the Medicaid care providers, instead claiming a "Bible thumping good girl like you won't rob me". No, she hadn't, but she'd sure earned the storage container.
Jenny also, quietly, suspected her race had played a factor. They were both white.
At the time, she'd just wanted to get out the house, but in the long run she was glad she'd done it. She walked up to the door and unlocked the padlock, swinging open the door. A lone light bulb hung from an exension cord. Jenny reached for her MP3 player.
Half an hour later, exhausted and dripping with sweat, she locked the door. Mr Jones had taught her to appreciate the use of her body, like nothing else. She wanted to keep it healthy and working for a long time.
Would Charlie change my diapers? Would he check my blood sugar? Charlie had always hated needles. Would he at least make sure I had a decent caregiver? She wiped a tear away at the thought, opening the back door, to ...
Charlie, in the kitchen, making a pot of coffee. "Hi"
Charlie looked at his wife, sweaty and dishevelled. "You look hot" he replied. She raised an eyebrow, and he leered at her with a grin. "Very hot".
"Get out of here" she muttered, slapping him on the shoulder. "All that medication has gone to your head."
Jenny headed off to take her shower, as Charlie gritted his teeth, at the thought of his wife in that awful shower enclosure.
He had to do something to help.
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
Chapter 13
Jenny curled in bed, under her covers, mindless of the sweltering temperatures outside. She always felt safe under at least a sheet and bedspread... and she could sleep however she wanted. She turned over and drifted deeper.
She was in the pink room. Jenny gasped in horror. She stood by the bed in her princess dress, hearing him come down the hall. She looked around frantically, trying to hide. The drawers under the bed kept her from crawling underneath, and the closet was too small to hide. She got the closet when she was bad.
Jenny had no idea how loudly she cried during the dream - she only knew she wanted it to end. The door opened and Carl walked in, grinning widely. She whimpered as he reached for his zipper, and she closed her eyes. She heard his pants hit the floor, and then she was thrown on the bed.
"We're gonna make a mess, little one!"
"No!" she cried
Suddenly, familar arms enveloped her and Charlie spoke soothingly in her ear.
"It's OK, Jen" he coaxed her, tears in his eyes. "It's OK Baby Girl. It's alright, I'm here. Remember? Carl's dead. He can't hurt you anymore". He pulled her close. Jenny was curled into a ball and sweating profusely.
"It's OK". He pulled her as close as he could.
"Go to sleep".
She was in the pink room. Jenny gasped in horror. She stood by the bed in her princess dress, hearing him come down the hall. She looked around frantically, trying to hide. The drawers under the bed kept her from crawling underneath, and the closet was too small to hide. She got the closet when she was bad.
Jenny had no idea how loudly she cried during the dream - she only knew she wanted it to end. The door opened and Carl walked in, grinning widely. She whimpered as he reached for his zipper, and she closed her eyes. She heard his pants hit the floor, and then she was thrown on the bed.
"We're gonna make a mess, little one!"
"No!" she cried
Suddenly, familar arms enveloped her and Charlie spoke soothingly in her ear.
"It's OK, Jen" he coaxed her, tears in his eyes. "It's OK Baby Girl. It's alright, I'm here. Remember? Carl's dead. He can't hurt you anymore". He pulled her close. Jenny was curled into a ball and sweating profusely.
"It's OK". He pulled her as close as he could.
"Go to sleep".
Chapter 12
Charlie woke up and watched Jenny sleep for a while, cuddling both cats. She looked so beautiful, he thought, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, curled on her side, her hand protectively resting on his kitten. The large cat curled at her back.
As he watched them, the big cat opened an eye and stared at him, then began grooming herself. He smiled at her and headed for the kitchen.
The kitchen wasn't too bad, he thought, as these things went. The appliances, a mixture of black and white, a black gas stove across from a white fridge, a sink forming a counterpoint to them both. The cabinets were made of some kind of cheap stuff but they looked alright. The floor tiles extended into the kitchen, a nice touch.
He found Jenny's note and read it, his brow furrowed.
Does she want to get rid of me? He wondered. We haven't even talked, and at this rate we never will. He paced the kitchen. At this rate, we'll never talk. He stopped by the sink, turned, and opened the fridge.
I've finally got an appetite. He thought for a moment as his stomach lurched. But I don't, because I'm so worried about Jenny. Will she tell me to go to hell? She's made a decent life for herself without me. He snorted, thinking about the "experts" who'd told Jenny she'd never live on her own. She's shown them.
Charlie pulled out some chicken broth, and warmed it in the microwave on the counter. Start low, go slow, he mused. He felt something against his leg, and looked down to see both cats eyeing him.
"It's mine" he said. They kept staring, their big green eyes boring into him. The microwave dinged as the big one began to meow and rub her head against his calf. "You'll never let me eat in peace, will you?" He began looking around for cat food.
Charlie noted, with approval, Jenny's "endless" dry feeder - she probably only had to fill it once a week, if that. The food was fresh, the cat always had something to eat... but they wanted his chicken broth. He rummaged around in a cabinet, finding a generic brand can of cat food.
"Suitiable for kittens" he read out loud. "Let's hit it". He couldn't find a bowl, and didn't know what Jenny used. The big cat began meowing loudly for her dinner. "Shush! You'll wake her up!"
Charlie grabbed a foam plate and dumped the food in the center. He paused, then used the can lid to divide it into two portions, one on each side of the plate. He gagged as he set the plate on the floor, out of way, near the pantry. "Oh, that reeks". He found the trash can.
He sat at the tiny table, sadly wondering if he'd ever eat another meal with Jenny. He remembered their last meal.
Charlie had woken up to the smell of cooking bacon as Jenny bustled in the kitchen. The house was spotless since he'd hired the service to come in twice a week. Jenny had been furious but he had an image to protect.
After he'd gotten out of the shower, he'd eaten and read the paper. Jenny had tried to talk to him but he'd held up a hand (Charlie cringed as he remembered it) to silence her. She'd taken his dishes the minute he finished and poured coffee into his travel mug, fixing it the way he liked. Light tan with a spoonful of real sugar, stirred well. Ah.
He'd picked up his laptop briefcase and walked out of her life forever. Charlie sighed. She had tried, so hard, to talk to him. She'd tried to warn him about the cult. Even when he treated her horribly, she'd stayed, until he'd put her life at risk by tossing her pills.
Charlie cringed as he remembered his dad's reaction when he'd come home to tell them about Jenny. Dad had roared in rage, grabbed Charlie by the collar of his shirt, and beaten him with a belt. "Knock some sense into you... you could have killed her! You moron! You never deserved her!" The words had hurt worse than the actual beating - although he'd had the welts for days.
Jenny, had sent his Dad a postcard. Dad - don't worry. I never missed a dose. I need to find what God wants for me. Please pray for Paul and I both. Love, Jenny
It hurt more, he thought, that she called me Paul, than anything else. I was always her Charlie.
Would he ever be, again?
Charlie looked over at the cats, licking the plate. He wished he'd gotten the name of that awful stuff before he'd thrown out the can. If Baby Girl liked it that much, he'd need to get some more.
As he watched them, the big cat opened an eye and stared at him, then began grooming herself. He smiled at her and headed for the kitchen.
The kitchen wasn't too bad, he thought, as these things went. The appliances, a mixture of black and white, a black gas stove across from a white fridge, a sink forming a counterpoint to them both. The cabinets were made of some kind of cheap stuff but they looked alright. The floor tiles extended into the kitchen, a nice touch.
He found Jenny's note and read it, his brow furrowed.
Does she want to get rid of me? He wondered. We haven't even talked, and at this rate we never will. He paced the kitchen. At this rate, we'll never talk. He stopped by the sink, turned, and opened the fridge.
I've finally got an appetite. He thought for a moment as his stomach lurched. But I don't, because I'm so worried about Jenny. Will she tell me to go to hell? She's made a decent life for herself without me. He snorted, thinking about the "experts" who'd told Jenny she'd never live on her own. She's shown them.
Charlie pulled out some chicken broth, and warmed it in the microwave on the counter. Start low, go slow, he mused. He felt something against his leg, and looked down to see both cats eyeing him.
"It's mine" he said. They kept staring, their big green eyes boring into him. The microwave dinged as the big one began to meow and rub her head against his calf. "You'll never let me eat in peace, will you?" He began looking around for cat food.
Charlie noted, with approval, Jenny's "endless" dry feeder - she probably only had to fill it once a week, if that. The food was fresh, the cat always had something to eat... but they wanted his chicken broth. He rummaged around in a cabinet, finding a generic brand can of cat food.
"Suitiable for kittens" he read out loud. "Let's hit it". He couldn't find a bowl, and didn't know what Jenny used. The big cat began meowing loudly for her dinner. "Shush! You'll wake her up!"
Charlie grabbed a foam plate and dumped the food in the center. He paused, then used the can lid to divide it into two portions, one on each side of the plate. He gagged as he set the plate on the floor, out of way, near the pantry. "Oh, that reeks". He found the trash can.
He sat at the tiny table, sadly wondering if he'd ever eat another meal with Jenny. He remembered their last meal.
Charlie had woken up to the smell of cooking bacon as Jenny bustled in the kitchen. The house was spotless since he'd hired the service to come in twice a week. Jenny had been furious but he had an image to protect.
After he'd gotten out of the shower, he'd eaten and read the paper. Jenny had tried to talk to him but he'd held up a hand (Charlie cringed as he remembered it) to silence her. She'd taken his dishes the minute he finished and poured coffee into his travel mug, fixing it the way he liked. Light tan with a spoonful of real sugar, stirred well. Ah.
He'd picked up his laptop briefcase and walked out of her life forever. Charlie sighed. She had tried, so hard, to talk to him. She'd tried to warn him about the cult. Even when he treated her horribly, she'd stayed, until he'd put her life at risk by tossing her pills.
Charlie cringed as he remembered his dad's reaction when he'd come home to tell them about Jenny. Dad had roared in rage, grabbed Charlie by the collar of his shirt, and beaten him with a belt. "Knock some sense into you... you could have killed her! You moron! You never deserved her!" The words had hurt worse than the actual beating - although he'd had the welts for days.
Jenny, had sent his Dad a postcard. Dad - don't worry. I never missed a dose. I need to find what God wants for me. Please pray for Paul and I both. Love, Jenny
It hurt more, he thought, that she called me Paul, than anything else. I was always her Charlie.
Would he ever be, again?
Charlie looked over at the cats, licking the plate. He wished he'd gotten the name of that awful stuff before he'd thrown out the can. If Baby Girl liked it that much, he'd need to get some more.
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Chapter 11
Jenny climbed out of Lavon's PT Cruiser, wondering how he'd talked her into "letting" him give a ride home. He'd made it very clear he was taking her home.
She wondered if he would have put her in the trunk if she'd kept protesting! Now, Jenny didn't mind a ride home if the weather was bad, and she was on the way, but she knew Lavon lived across town. He had to get back home before his youngest came home from preschool. His wife worked nights, and she needed her sleep.
Jenny sighed as she opened the gate. Charlie's car still sat in the driveway, like he paid the mortgage. Well, in a sense, he did, and who could beat 2.5 acres at $680 a month? She glanced next door at the junkyard. Looked like a quiet day. She'd planted climbing vines on the solid metal fence, and it had seemed to work. They looked far more cheerful, covered by morning glories, ivy, and jasmine.
On the other side, right by the fence line, she had Mr Johnson and his dying pine tree. She prayed and prayed, everytime it rained. Please don't fall on my house. She'd asked him to cut it, but he had a lot of money troubles. Now he was in the hospital, again, after yet another dialysis related infection.
She glanced back at the house. The sagging porch glared at her accusingly. "I know, I know" she murmured at her poor tired house. The light blue paint was beginning to peel off the eaves. "Hang on a little longer."
Jenny was no fool. Her house was a wreck. She snorted. So was her life!
She opened the front door, glancing back. Lavon waved.
"Don't worry," he'd told her. "I won't leave unless you come out and wave. If you don't wave, in 5 minutes, I'm going in." She'd protested. "Look, I don't trust that man. You won't say what he did but it's clear he hurt you. I won't let him do it again."
Lavon was quite the big brother, she mused. All God's family. She stepped inside.
She was greeted by the smell of chicken broth from the crock pot, two cats, and the sound of snoring. She stepped back out and waved. Lavon drove off.
She'd had a lot of traffic, Jenny mused. First Charlie, then Jeff, now Lavon. She had to get out there and mow the yard! She glanced at the goats browsing out back, fenced away from her gardens. "Too bad I can't use you up here" she mused. She'd love to try, but they'd probably eat her passionflower.
Passion. She snorted. That had been a while. She sighed. Had Charlie come for some kind of booty call? She scratched her head. It's possible, she guessed. After all it had been 5 years. For all she knew he was into really wierd stuff now... or maybe he'd decided she wasn't worth the bother.
Jenny held her head in her hands, convinced she was getting a migraine now. AGH. She looked around the living room. Everything seemed fine, a navy blue loveseat and floral recliner recliner placed at right angles, facing the small television.
She snickered as she remembered the robbery - they'd broken in and left her television behind. Not even a crackhead wanted it! She wondered, again, why they'd chosen her house. Out of the houses available, hers was the smallest and poorest. She shrugged and checked on the laundry. The spin cycle had failed again, so she patiently reset the knob and coaxed it into performance. She wasn't above praying over it, either.
The dryer was almost done. She could run it for half an hour when she woke up. For now, though, she was beat.
Jenny wrote a note: C. I got home from work at 11 AM, please don't make any noise until after 8 PM. My other job starts at 9:30 and I need my sleep. Thanks! When was he leaving? Please lock the door on your way out. - J.
Thank God for the breakfast tacos. She'd already taken her pills, so she could go right to sleep. She checked her reusable water bottle - still full. Good.
She fell asleep quickly, a purring, one-eyed kitten on her chest.
She wondered if he would have put her in the trunk if she'd kept protesting! Now, Jenny didn't mind a ride home if the weather was bad, and she was on the way, but she knew Lavon lived across town. He had to get back home before his youngest came home from preschool. His wife worked nights, and she needed her sleep.
Jenny sighed as she opened the gate. Charlie's car still sat in the driveway, like he paid the mortgage. Well, in a sense, he did, and who could beat 2.5 acres at $680 a month? She glanced next door at the junkyard. Looked like a quiet day. She'd planted climbing vines on the solid metal fence, and it had seemed to work. They looked far more cheerful, covered by morning glories, ivy, and jasmine.
On the other side, right by the fence line, she had Mr Johnson and his dying pine tree. She prayed and prayed, everytime it rained. Please don't fall on my house. She'd asked him to cut it, but he had a lot of money troubles. Now he was in the hospital, again, after yet another dialysis related infection.
She glanced back at the house. The sagging porch glared at her accusingly. "I know, I know" she murmured at her poor tired house. The light blue paint was beginning to peel off the eaves. "Hang on a little longer."
Jenny was no fool. Her house was a wreck. She snorted. So was her life!
She opened the front door, glancing back. Lavon waved.
"Don't worry," he'd told her. "I won't leave unless you come out and wave. If you don't wave, in 5 minutes, I'm going in." She'd protested. "Look, I don't trust that man. You won't say what he did but it's clear he hurt you. I won't let him do it again."
Lavon was quite the big brother, she mused. All God's family. She stepped inside.
She was greeted by the smell of chicken broth from the crock pot, two cats, and the sound of snoring. She stepped back out and waved. Lavon drove off.
She'd had a lot of traffic, Jenny mused. First Charlie, then Jeff, now Lavon. She had to get out there and mow the yard! She glanced at the goats browsing out back, fenced away from her gardens. "Too bad I can't use you up here" she mused. She'd love to try, but they'd probably eat her passionflower.
Passion. She snorted. That had been a while. She sighed. Had Charlie come for some kind of booty call? She scratched her head. It's possible, she guessed. After all it had been 5 years. For all she knew he was into really wierd stuff now... or maybe he'd decided she wasn't worth the bother.
Jenny held her head in her hands, convinced she was getting a migraine now. AGH. She looked around the living room. Everything seemed fine, a navy blue loveseat and floral recliner recliner placed at right angles, facing the small television.
She snickered as she remembered the robbery - they'd broken in and left her television behind. Not even a crackhead wanted it! She wondered, again, why they'd chosen her house. Out of the houses available, hers was the smallest and poorest. She shrugged and checked on the laundry. The spin cycle had failed again, so she patiently reset the knob and coaxed it into performance. She wasn't above praying over it, either.
The dryer was almost done. She could run it for half an hour when she woke up. For now, though, she was beat.
Jenny wrote a note: C. I got home from work at 11 AM, please don't make any noise until after 8 PM. My other job starts at 9:30 and I need my sleep. Thanks! When was he leaving? Please lock the door on your way out. - J.
Thank God for the breakfast tacos. She'd already taken her pills, so she could go right to sleep. She checked her reusable water bottle - still full. Good.
She fell asleep quickly, a purring, one-eyed kitten on her chest.
Monday, March 25, 2013
Chapter 10
Jenny laughed around a mouthful of breakfast taco. "No way!" She grinned at her coworker, showing baby pictures "He's walking already?"
Jenny sighed inside as she felt the familiar pang. Thanks to Carl Smith, she'd never have kids. She'd had massive trauma and a chronic infection. To top it all off, she'd caught another infection when they'd gone in to clear out some of the scar tissue. Dr Liber had almost cried as he told her she'd never have children.
She'd cried, she thought. She'd cried so much - so long. Charlie had tried to understand, but it was clear he couldn't. Equally clear was his disappointment they'd never have children. Then, the cult, and that jerk telling her he'd cure her... if she slept with him. Ugh.
Sometimes, Jenny thought, it was a miracle she was ever happy at all. She took a savage bite of her taco. The refrigerator hummed in the corner as someone took a meal out of the microwave.
Lavon carefully studied his coworker as he put his cell phone away. Miss Jenny was stressed, and hurting. It didn't look like her depressions, either. He ran a worried hand over his shaved black head.
"So, how was your day?"
A few minutes later, Jenny laughed uproariously as she told the story again, in Spanish. "Esposo... migrana...vomito... bebe chica.... gatita...." Lavon shook his head in shock.
"He came crawling back,, and puked on you?" Jenny nodded.
Some things could only happen in her life, she concluded.
Jenny sighed inside as she felt the familiar pang. Thanks to Carl Smith, she'd never have kids. She'd had massive trauma and a chronic infection. To top it all off, she'd caught another infection when they'd gone in to clear out some of the scar tissue. Dr Liber had almost cried as he told her she'd never have children.
She'd cried, she thought. She'd cried so much - so long. Charlie had tried to understand, but it was clear he couldn't. Equally clear was his disappointment they'd never have children. Then, the cult, and that jerk telling her he'd cure her... if she slept with him. Ugh.
Sometimes, Jenny thought, it was a miracle she was ever happy at all. She took a savage bite of her taco. The refrigerator hummed in the corner as someone took a meal out of the microwave.
Lavon carefully studied his coworker as he put his cell phone away. Miss Jenny was stressed, and hurting. It didn't look like her depressions, either. He ran a worried hand over his shaved black head.
"So, how was your day?"
A few minutes later, Jenny laughed uproariously as she told the story again, in Spanish. "Esposo... migrana...vomito... bebe chica.... gatita...." Lavon shook his head in shock.
"He came crawling back,, and puked on you?" Jenny nodded.
Some things could only happen in her life, she concluded.
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Chapter 9
While Jenny stocked the frozen foods section at work, Charlie carefully explored her house. Two bedrooms, he noted. As he stuck his head into the other room, he noted the pull-out couch.
Great. He'd kicked Jenny out of her own bed. A simple bookcase and a computer desk completed the room. He sighed as he noticed the Bible, lying on the bed. At least he hadn't driven her away from God, completely.
He knew, from reading her blog, that Jenny didn't attend a church. She had some very strong opinions on the subject. Charlie winced. God would have to work with her, on that. He sure wasn't up to it know.
Why? he wondered. Why had God allowed him to get a migraine? He'd had a plan, dinner out, an apology... Charlie sighed again and leaned against the wall in the hallway, his head pounding so hard he could barely think.
Maybe I needed to beg and crawl he thought. I couldn't have been more pathetic. He firmed his lips in a small smile and checked out the bathroom.
He expected the purple towels and orange bathrobe. Jenny loved bright color in the bathroom. "It wakes me up, Charlie." she'd drawled, leaning against him in bed. The loud colors seemed to throb in his eyes. He turned off the bathroom light and went off the hallway light.
The sink looked fine, with old-fashioned knobs. White porcelain, it was pretty unremarkable except for a small chip near the rim. The counter was some kind of cheap laminate, covered in hair care products and personal items.
Charlie gasped as he opened the shower curtain. The bathtub enclosure looked terrible. White ceramic tiles had fallen off the walls. Some, at the edge of the tub, had been carefully propped up with bottles of shampoo and shower gel. The tub itself looked alright, a fiberglass garden tub, but the faucet dripped into a 5-gallon bucket. Orange, again, he noted.
Charlie gritted his teeth at the thought of his wife bathing in there, every day. Horrendous.
A crushing wave erupted in his temple, warning Charlie he had to take his medication again. He sighed and headed for the kitchen.
Great. He'd kicked Jenny out of her own bed. A simple bookcase and a computer desk completed the room. He sighed as he noticed the Bible, lying on the bed. At least he hadn't driven her away from God, completely.
He knew, from reading her blog, that Jenny didn't attend a church. She had some very strong opinions on the subject. Charlie winced. God would have to work with her, on that. He sure wasn't up to it know.
Why? he wondered. Why had God allowed him to get a migraine? He'd had a plan, dinner out, an apology... Charlie sighed again and leaned against the wall in the hallway, his head pounding so hard he could barely think.
Maybe I needed to beg and crawl he thought. I couldn't have been more pathetic. He firmed his lips in a small smile and checked out the bathroom.
He expected the purple towels and orange bathrobe. Jenny loved bright color in the bathroom. "It wakes me up, Charlie." she'd drawled, leaning against him in bed. The loud colors seemed to throb in his eyes. He turned off the bathroom light and went off the hallway light.
The sink looked fine, with old-fashioned knobs. White porcelain, it was pretty unremarkable except for a small chip near the rim. The counter was some kind of cheap laminate, covered in hair care products and personal items.
Charlie gasped as he opened the shower curtain. The bathtub enclosure looked terrible. White ceramic tiles had fallen off the walls. Some, at the edge of the tub, had been carefully propped up with bottles of shampoo and shower gel. The tub itself looked alright, a fiberglass garden tub, but the faucet dripped into a 5-gallon bucket. Orange, again, he noted.
Charlie gritted his teeth at the thought of his wife bathing in there, every day. Horrendous.
A crushing wave erupted in his temple, warning Charlie he had to take his medication again. He sighed and headed for the kitchen.
Saturday, March 23, 2013
Chapter 8
Charlie awoke slowly, his head still throbbing. He sighed deeply and rolled over, encountering a strange cat in his bed.
He sat up quickly, flinching as the knives stabbed his left temple. Jenny. Oh, God. He'd gone to her house, and....
Charlie groaned as he realized he'd thrown up on her. It would be easier if she wouldn't forgive him for that, but she probably would. Jenny was an amazingly kind woman.
He remembered the whispers in daycare when they'd met. Abused they'd said. Sexual. Permanent damage.
All he'd seen was a bright and sweet little girl with beautiful green eyes. They'd had so much fun, playing tag, fingerpainting, and whispering during naptime.
They'd sent a wedding notice to the daycare manager at church, and ... the strange cat was back, purring and rubbing her head against his shoulder.
"Hi Kitty" he murmured, looking for Baby Girl. He thought he remembered Baby Girl licking his ear. He found her, sleeping in her "usual" spot by his left shoulder. Jenny had brought him his Baby Girl.
The big cat walked over to Baby Girl and began grooming her. Baby Girl mewed happily and tried to nurse. Charlie chuckled. The two black cats did look related.
Wait, he could see?
Dim light filtered in from the hallway, and Charlie looked around. He was in a small bedroom, dominated by a queen bed. The cat takes up a lot of room he recalled from her blog.
The bed faced a window, light-blocking curtains drawn over plain venetian blinds. He peeked out, seeing the dim outline of trees and some kind of garden in the moonlight. Something grew under the window, and up the side of the house.
Charlie slowly turned, his head throbbing. He now faced a dresser placed inside a closet with the doors removed. Shirts hung in a row above the dresser, a few slacks and dressers off to the side.
Jenny had lost weight he thought. She probably needed a whole new wardrobe. And he hadn't been there to help. Charlie cursed himself again. What else did Jenny need? How could he help her?
He sat up quickly, flinching as the knives stabbed his left temple. Jenny. Oh, God. He'd gone to her house, and....
Charlie groaned as he realized he'd thrown up on her. It would be easier if she wouldn't forgive him for that, but she probably would. Jenny was an amazingly kind woman.
He remembered the whispers in daycare when they'd met. Abused they'd said. Sexual. Permanent damage.
All he'd seen was a bright and sweet little girl with beautiful green eyes. They'd had so much fun, playing tag, fingerpainting, and whispering during naptime.
They'd sent a wedding notice to the daycare manager at church, and ... the strange cat was back, purring and rubbing her head against his shoulder.
"Hi Kitty" he murmured, looking for Baby Girl. He thought he remembered Baby Girl licking his ear. He found her, sleeping in her "usual" spot by his left shoulder. Jenny had brought him his Baby Girl.
The big cat walked over to Baby Girl and began grooming her. Baby Girl mewed happily and tried to nurse. Charlie chuckled. The two black cats did look related.
Wait, he could see?
Dim light filtered in from the hallway, and Charlie looked around. He was in a small bedroom, dominated by a queen bed. The cat takes up a lot of room he recalled from her blog.
The bed faced a window, light-blocking curtains drawn over plain venetian blinds. He peeked out, seeing the dim outline of trees and some kind of garden in the moonlight. Something grew under the window, and up the side of the house.
Charlie slowly turned, his head throbbing. He now faced a dresser placed inside a closet with the doors removed. Shirts hung in a row above the dresser, a few slacks and dressers off to the side.
Jenny had lost weight he thought. She probably needed a whole new wardrobe. And he hadn't been there to help. Charlie cursed himself again. What else did Jenny need? How could he help her?
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