Page 83 of The Hitchhikers
“Rocks. Shells.”
“Why?”
“I make jewelry.”
“Cool. Have you ever found sea glass?”
“What’s that?”
“Broken bottles and glass that’ve been on the shore a long time. They get tumbled in the waves and turn smooth. Want to go for a ride? I’ve found pieces on my island before.”
“I’m not supposed to spend time with boys.”
“Do youwantto spend time with me?” He held her gaze, waiting for her answer, but her mouth was dry, and her thoughts had scattered. She’d never actually asked her mom if she could go on a date before—no one had ever asked Jenny out. But her mom’s plans for Jenny to audition again in the summer for the Winnipeg Ballet were firmly cemented. Jenny’s destiny had been laid down the first time her mom told her to point her toes.
“Sure,” she finally managed. “But my mom… she’d freak out.”
“Does she know you’re on the dock?” Simon said.
“She’s gone into the city for the day. She’s shopping.”
“With your stepdad?”
“No. He was working late. He’ll probably sleep most the day.”
“So no one will notice if you’re gone.”
No onewouldnotice. It shouldn’t hurt. Not still, but it did. Because her mother would come home late and be preoccupied with her purchases. And when Robert did wake up, he’d go to his office again and stay there into the night. Drinking bourbon. Typing and ripping up pages.
She wasn’t supposed to disturb him, and she never did.
Jenny had made a terrible mistake before her mother married Robert, when her mother had been dating two men at the same time, waiting to see who she liked better. Her mother didn’t lack for attention. It wasn’t just her beauty but how she could make them feel as though they were completely fascinating. That time it was a lawyer and a stockbroker. One phoned their apartment, and Jenny had used the other man’s name. When they found out about each other, they broke up with Isabelle, who then ignored Jenny for days.
When her mother finally spoke to her, it was only to announce Jenny’s penance. She’d have to eat a bowl of tomatoes. She knew Jenny hated the texture. The squishing between her teeth. How the taste made her gag and her throat itchy. Jenny steeled herself and choked down the bowl and went to bed relieved it was over. Then her breakfast was fried tomatoes. She opened her lunch box at school and found more tomatoes. Dinner was cream of tomato soup.
It went on for days. Jenny didn’t want anyone to notice she wasn’t eating at lunch, so she hid in the library. She didn’t have any of her own money to go to a store. No friends to ask for help. She nearly fainted while dancing, but her mom didn’t let up. She came home to more tomatoes. Blanched tomatoes. Salsa. Steamed. Boiled. Stewed. Jenny’s throat was constantly burning, an itch she couldn’t scratch. She tasted blood. She drank water, milk. Nothing helped.
She thought she might die. She sat at night with the stones she’d collected with her father. She held them in her hands, rolled them like dice, and looked up at the ceiling.
Please, Dad, I miss you so much. Please save me.
Then one night, her mother came into her room and perched on the side of her mattress. She leaned over, enveloping Jenny in her flowery perfume. Jenny thought her mom was going to kiss her cheek and tell her she was finally forgiven. Instead, she’d whispered into her ear. “You willneverruin one of my relationships again. Understand?”
Jenny did indeed understand.
Her mother changed her mind about businessmen and stopped going downtown for cocktail hour. Instead, she haunted the theater, literary events, and the opera. Anywhere she might find an academic, someonecultured.When she began dating Robert, Jenny was careful not to do anything that might make him not want their family. She was polite. She kept her room clean anddidn’t leave any belongings around the house. She was quiet. She’d stayed that way even after they were married. Because now it would be even worse if she ruined it all.
But this wild boy, with his messy hair and crooked smile, was holding out an opportunity. For what exactly, she wasn’t sure, but it was something. Something different.
She got to her feet, but still, she hesitated. Their eyes met, and now she saw the sadness he’d been trying to hide. The shame. Underneath the smile, the confident words. His dad beat him, and he’d had to make up a story so that people didn’t know. But he’d toldherthe truth.
She carefully climbed into the boat, gripping the slippery metal sides, and sat across from him. The seat was cold under her bottom. They were so close their knees were nearly touching.
As they moved away from the dock, he looked back toward the marina, his eyebrows pulled together as he scanned the water, like he was scared that his dad might be following.
Maybe that was when it truly started. When everything was set in motion. She’d thought that Simon was the same as her, so when he turned around again, she told him a secret too.
“I wish my mother was dead.”
