Forever After (21 page)

W
hat do you mean it’s expired?” The woman hitched the slobbering baby up on her hip and glared at Jenna. “You’re new here, aren’t you? They’ve never checked coupons here before. They just run them through.”

Jenna frowned. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I was told not to accept expired coupons.”

“That’s ridiculous. I’ll just take my business over to the IGA if that’s the way you’re going to treat your customers.”

“I’m sorry ma’am. I’m just following—”

“I want to speak to the manager.”

A cheery Christmas carol played over the store’s intercom system, contradicting the mood of the moment. Jenna sighed and offered an apologetic smile to the two people in line behind the coupon queen. She glanced down the row of checkout stands, hoping Mr. Iverson wasn’t on the floor. This was the second customer complaint she’d gotten today,
and the manager had been none too happy to have to handle the first one—a man on his lunch hour who griped because she was too slow.

“Just one moment,” she told the woman, biting her tongue to keep her voice even. She picked up the intercom and depressed the Call key. “Assistance on register five, please, assistance on—”

“What do you need, Jenna?” Sydney Baer, a part-time worker with the high school’s work-study program, came to her rescue, and within a few minutes the coupon lady was happily on her way.

“I thought we weren’t supposed to allow expired coupons?”

Sydney shrugged. “Technically we’re not, but I usually go ahead and take them. It saves a lot of grief.”

“You don’t get in trouble?”

“Not unless they’re like five years old or something. The customer’s always right, you know.”

“Okay.” She shifted to her other foot. Under the guise of retying her apron smock, she tried to rub the kinks out of her spine. Her back was killing her, but turning to the next customer in line, she pasted on a smile. “Welcome to Hanson’s. Did you find everything you need?”

Two weeks—and as of yesterday, three Thursdays—had gone by, and Jenna hadn’t heard a word from Lucas.

She was disappointed, but she might have been more so if she hadn’t been so crazy busy trying to learn this job. The first two days of training had been a killer, leaving her frustrated and exhausted, and thinking she was the stupidest woman on the planet. But on the third day some cog or sprocket or
something
had clicked into place, and after that, running the cash register had become second nature. She hoped interacting with Hanson’s customers would soon come as easily.

Even with the occasional cranky customer, she was actually rather enjoying the job. It felt nice to be earning her own way, to be independent for the first time in her life. Okay, so she hadn’t seen her first paycheck yet, but checks were due out today.

She helped out three more customers before the store cleared out a
little. A few minutes later Mr. Iverson came down from the office with a stack of envelopes. As if they’d been summoned, the bag boys appeared from the back of the store, and the other checkers lined up, waiting for Iverson to call their names.

As soon as she had a minute to herself, Jenna ripped open the flap and peered inside, holding the envelope to the light so she could make out the amount of the check.

She looked again. Surely there was some mistake. Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, she slipped the check out of its envelope, unfolded it, and studied the numbers on the pay stub. After the various taxes, Social Security, and some deductions she’d never heard of were subtracted, her check was barely half what she’d expected.

It didn’t take a math whiz to figure out that it would be months before she’d saved enough for an apartment, never mind the credit cards and the other bills she’d be responsible for. Thank goodness her car was paid for. When she got home tonight, she needed to take a good look at her finances and figure out where she could cut back. Again.

Sydney and Elma Johnson, who served as a greeter at the front of the store, whispered about something at Sydney’s checkstand. Mr. Iverson walked by, clearing his throat loudly, and Elma scurried back to her station. Sydney grabbed a spray bottle and started wiping down her conveyer, and Jenna took her cue to get busy.

A minute later a grocery cart appeared in her lane, and Jenna started her spiel. “Welcome to Hanson’s. Did you find—”

“Jenna?”

Her breath caught as she met Clarissa’s eyes. “Clarissa … Hi.” She forced a steadiness into her voice. “How are you?”

“You work here?”

No, I’m just standing behind the cash register wearing this smock as a fashion statement.
She bit her tongue. “Yes. For a couple of weeks now.”

“Oh, honey.” Clarissa delivered the words as if Jenna had just told her her dog died.

Jenna chose to ignore them and shifted back into business mode. “Did you find everything you need?”

“Jenna. Please. Don’t do this.”

Jenna pressed her lips together. Was this woman for real? Feeling a slow burn, she picked up a cellophane bag of yellow peppers from the cart and placed them on the scale. She scanned the other items from the cart—expensive food from the store’s deli and gourmet departments. Of course those departments were why most people shopped at Hanson’s instead of the IGA.

“Jenna, listen to me.” Clarissa leaned close and lowered her voice. “You’re better than this. If you must work, surely you can find something more suitable than—” She stopped.

Jenna wondered how she’d intended to finish the sentence.

“Look at you,” Clarissa said, sounding just short of horrified. “Your hair … your clothes … a
smock
? Oh, Jenna.”

She thought Clarissa might burst into tears of sympathy any moment. Taking a step back from the register, Jenna dropped the polite checker persona. “You didn’t leave me much choice. And for your information, I happen to like this job.”

“Come back.” Clarissa spoke the words as if the idea had just come to her. “I mean it. Come home with me now. We can work things out.”

Jenna shook her head. She knew Zach’s mother too well. Knew how she could manipulate things and people. Jenna had always watched others cave to Clarissa Morgan’s wiles. Why had it taken her so long to see that she was just as susceptible?

Well, not anymore. She knew what “work things out” meant. It meant that Jenna would toe the line and Clarissa would continue to control her.

She couldn’t resist goading the woman. “Then you’re okay with Bryn and me being friends?”

Clarissa opened her mouth to speak, then closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if composing herself. “I said … we’d work something
out. And we can. I’m sure of it. You don’t want to do this, Jenna. I know—”

“Don’t tell me what I want to do.”

Clarissa recoiled as if she’d been slapped. Tears welled in her eyes, and Jenna almost felt sorry for her. This woman wasn’t accustomed to being told no.

She forced a softer tone, speaking slowly, measuring her words. “I’m making my own way, Clarissa. I should have done that long ago. I—I appreciate everything you and Bill have done for me. I really do. But it’s time I figured out what I want to do with the rest of my life.”

“I understand that, Jenna. Truly I do. But we can still help you. There’s no reason for you to end up on the streets.”

“What? What are you talking about? I’m not living on the streets.” What brand of gossip had she been listening to? “I’m staying with Bryn right now, but I’m looking for an apartment.”

“But you
have
a place to live.” Clarissa’s voice rose an octave. “You can stay with us. It’s silly for you to pay good money for some dump when we are rattling around in that house.”

Jenna thought about the gorgeous house in Clairemont Hills, about how it made her feel to drive her Volvo through those imposing gates, knowing that she had a passkey, a right to be there. She thought about the paltry paycheck in the pocket of her smock, and about how she was imposing on Bryn.

It would be so easy to untie her smock, walk out that door, load up her car, and go back to a life of luxury. She could probably even talk Bill and Clarissa into letting her have the basement—as they’d originally agreed. For a split second she almost caved.

Then she thought about that day she’d looked in the mirror and seen Clarissa staring back at her.

She couldn’t go back. Somehow she knew that if she did, she’d never be free, never find her own way. If she gave in now, she would live in Clarissa’s shadow for the rest of her life.

“I’ll come and get my things as soon as I can. It may be a few weeks before I can … get everything worked out. …” She’d almost said “before I can afford the apartment,” but she didn’t want Clarissa to even consider that she might be hinting for help. She’d done that too often, and it shamed her now.

“Suit yourself,” Clarissa said, her tone instantly frosty. “At least I tried.” She was no doubt rehearsing what she’d tell her high-society friends.

Jenna scanned the rest of the groceries in silence, feeling every bit as inferior and unworthy as she knew Clarissa intended her to.

Not meeting Jenna’s gaze, Clarissa paid for her groceries and slung her purse strap across her shoulder. She started to follow the bag boy out the door, but as if she’d sensed Jenna’s temptation, Clarissa returned to the checkout counter and held out her hand, palm up. “I’d appreciate it if you’d return the pass card we gave you. To the gate.”

Jenna stared. “I … I don’t have it with me. I’ll bring it when I come to get my stuff.”

“You can mail it. You have our address.” She whirled and strode after the bag boy.

Jenna sighed and realized her hands were trembling. She would be okay. She had a paycheck in her pocket—money that belonged to her alone. It was her first step toward freedom and independence, toward discovering who she was—or who she could become.

She hoped that person would be worth the things she was sacrificing.

Christmas Eve. Who sat home alone on this night?

24

Wednesday, December 24

A
re you sure you won’t come, Jen? We’d love to have you.”

From her perch, cross-legged on the sofa, Jenna closed the lid on her laptop and gave Bryn the sincerest smile she could muster. “Thanks, B. It means the world to me that you’ve gone out of your way to make me feel welcome. And I do. But I’m exhausted. I really think I need to spend these few days off resting up.” She was only half kidding. Being on her feet all day at Hanson’s had taken its toll.

Bryn grimaced. “Yeah, I remember my Hanson’s days. It’s a killer on the feet, that’s for sure. Hey, I have one of those pedicure soaking tubs under the bathroom sink. Feel free to use it.”

“I just might do that. Merry Christmas … and tell your dad hi for me.”

“I will.” She beamed and Jenna heard the relief in her voice.

Bryn’s father was finally home from the hospital, and Bryn and Garrett were spending Christmas with him before traveling to visit
relatives of Garrett’s somewhere in Kansas. “If you change your mind about tomorrow, call me and I’ll give you directions out to my dad’s.”

“I will,” she assured Bryn. But she wouldn’t change her mind. It might be a lonely Christmas, but it would be worse spending the day with two lovebirds and watching Bryn with her dad. She brushed the thought off and found her smile again for Bryn’s sake.

“Well, okay. I’m outta here. Love you.”

“Love you, too. See you Saturday.” The door slammed and quiet descended over the apartment. Jenna swallowed the sudden rush of emotion that came as she thought about her friendship with Bryn.

They’d grown so much closer over the last few weeks she’d been staying here. Like sisters. It made Jenna think of her own sister and wonder where Becky was spending this Christmas Eve. What was wrong with her—with their family—that they didn’t even get together for the holidays? Guilt sliced through her. With their mom gone, she should have tried to get in touch with Becky. But it wasn’t as if Jenna had a place to host a big turkey dinner. She didn’t even know where Becky was living now. Wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

Bryn Hennesey was more of a sister to her than Becky had ever been. Bryn had been more generous and patient than Jenna deserved, refusing to take one penny for rent and chiding her if she so much as brought home a few groceries to help fill the cupboards. Jenna just hoped she could keep her promise to be out of here by next month. Not that she had any choice in the matter. Bryn’s lease would be up at the end of January, and she’d be giving the apartment up. Jenna looked out at the frosty night, remembering the night she’d slept in her car.

She’d been checking the
Courier
’s classifieds each week and had Maggie keeping an eye out for low-rent apartments, too. She could probably afford the monthly rent for a couple of the cheaper complexes, but one of them had no vacancies, and the other had a strict two-months-deposit-in-advance policy. And it was nowhere near as nice as Bryn’s
place. Housing was at a premium in the Falls, so almost everything was way over her budget.

She opened her laptop again and checked her e-mail. The no-mail gong reminded her that the whole world was out celebrating tonight. Christmas Eve. Who sat home alone on this night?