Poor Jenny, Bright As A Penny
- Автор: Мерфи Ширли Руссо
- Язык: английский
- Год: Ad Stellae Books
- Жанр: Фэнтези
Электронная книга - «Poor Jenny, Bright As A Penny». Краткое содержание книги:
Finally the tears subsided. “I don’t know what I was crying about. It’s stupid to cry.”
Bingo just looked at her, and nodded.
When they were off the freeway and winding through slow town traffic, a siren blared behind them and a red light flashed. Mrs. Dermody looked startled, then pulled to the curb.
The patrol car parked behind them. A tall, tough-looking policeman got out and came toward them. Mrs. Dermody turned to look back at him, then she laughed. “What did I do?”
He frowned. “Lady, you just volunteered.”
“What for?”
“To take a cop to lunch.”
“Well, follow me, Officer. But don’t get lost in the traffic.”
“Smarty,” he growled, and went back to his patrol car.
“Who was that?” Bingo said, unable to contain himself.
“That was Sergeant Dermody.” She laughed. “He is my husband.”
Jenny laughed, trying to wipe the tear streaks from her face at the same time. She blew her nose and combed her hair. There’s no point in crying, she told herself. You did the right thing. Now shut up about it.
The restaurant was decorated like the gay nineties. It had red velvet walls with groups of old-fashioned photographs, and ornate gaslights. The boys who waited tables all wore boater hats, and garters over their white shirt sleeves.
As soon as they had squeezed into the booth, Jenny and Bingo were possessed by a fit of bashful discomfort. Perhaps it was Sergeant Dermody’s uniform that made them shy. Bingo wiggled in his seat and studied the menu, but he had already decided on a hamburger. Jenny smiled hesitatingly at Sergeant Dermody, but when he winked at her she felt more tongue-tied than before. Maybe it was the way he looked at a person.
After the waiter took their orders, Sergeant Dermody said quietly, “Your mother all right?”
They nodded.
“How long did she get?”
“Three months,” Jenny said. “She looked—she said it was awful in jail. Is that true?”
“It’s not bad. The inmates are treated fairly, if they behave themselves. The food’s good, I eat lunch there a couple of times a week.”
Then the hamburgers came and they were occupied with spreading mustard and layering on pickles and onions. When Sergeant Dermody had his fixed to his satisfaction he shoved the onions away and said, “Georgie, have you asked them?”
She shook her head briefly. Her eyes held Jenny and Bingo. “Now, please take time to consider this, and be honest about it. Would you two like to live at our house until your mother gets out? We have a big house. There were five children growing up, but they’re all gone now, married or in college, except Ben. We have lots of room. You’d have rooms of your own, some chores to do around the house. The schools are close. You could help us fill up the house. We’d like having you, and you’d be a help with the housework, Jenny, now that I’m starting a new book.” She was talking easily and quietly, to give them time to think.
Jenny wanted to shout, Yes! But she couldn’t. She stared absently at the four french fries on the plate.
Sergeant Dermody said, “Georgie can pack you up and have you home by dinnertime, if you’re willing. Or you can wait a few days if you want time to consider.”
“I’m willing!” Bingo shouted, before they could change their minds.
“I’d love it,” Jenny said slowly, “only—”
“Only what?” Georgie asked.
“Only—” Her face was hot with embarrassment, and when she spoke her voice was small, “Only—is it like charity?”
Sergeant Dermody picked up the check and put on his cap. He came around to Jenny’s side of the table and put a hand on her shoulder. “No,” he said. “It isn’t. The county pays for you whether you’re in J.D.H. or with us. I’ll expect to see you at dinner.”
Chapter 10
Georgie Dermody kept her spare rooms ready for company, clean sheets on the beds, aired and dusted. She enjoyed having kids in the house, and missed her own. They came home when they could, filling up the house with noise and strewing clothes around. Then when they were gone it was peaceful and lonely. They always cluttered up the kitchen, lounging around the big table where she was working now, so she had to step over their feet.
She lit the stove and took a container of lasagna sauce from the refrigerator. Look how motherly I’ve gotten, she thought idly, I’m even dragging home strays. I wasn’t so domestic when I was Jenny’s age. She grinned at the thought of her younger self in black stockings and a short black satin skirt.
Georgie had left home when she was seventeen, rented a cheap hotel room and gone to work as a cocktail waitress at the Red Cricket. There was nothing to keep her as her father had disappeared and her stepmother was glad to see the last of Georgie.
Georgie had been a natural blonde then. When her hair started to go dark later, she bleached it because Jack liked it better. She hated the bother of it, but she spent the time in the beauty parlor listening to the incredible chatter of other women; she got some good character studies that way.
Georgie sliced some cheese and put the lasagna on to boil, musing over the Red Cricket and the girl she had been then. When she thought of that bar she could still smell the sour liquor smell. She used to keep the change from her tips in her pocket beneath the frilly white apron, and the bills in her bra. No one knew she was under age. The Red Cricket was a rough place; she had to learn fast to take care of herself. Until she met Jack Dermody, there had not been a lot of joy in her life.
Georgie met Jack Dermody when he came in the bar one night, off duty. After that he came back regularly. He was tough and clean. She didn’t know he was a cop, and he didn’t know how old she was. She found out he was a cop when he asked her to act as an informant. She was very angry, she’d thought he was coming in because he liked her. But she got the information for him, then she made him take her to dinner.
After that she picked up whatever information she could, which was considerable; it was a rough part of town. And Jack Dermody got to be a habit. She was head over heels for him. In the process of informing for Jack, she found she liked the police department better than the bar. She liked it so much, she wanted to work for it. She went back to school in the daytime, but kept her job until the manager of the bar found out she was only seventeen, then fired her.
When Jack learned how old she was he didn’t see her for three weeks. Then he asked her to marry him.
Georgie drained the lasagna and began to layer it into a casserole with the sauce. She had told Jenny and Bingo to explore the house as they liked, but there hadn’t been a sound out of them since she had shown them their rooms and left them to get settled.
The late afternoon sun slanted through the kitchen window and she pulled the shade up to let more of it in. The black cat, who had been sleeping on a kitchen chair, rolled over so the sun was on his belly. The kitchen was yellow, with a braided rug under the big table. A police radio muttered softly on the drain-board. The kitchen faced the street and opened directly to the front hall. Across from it, the living room ran from the front of the house to the back, where its tall old windows looked down across the roofs of other houses to the city. Facing the city, too, was Georgie’s study. It was behind the kitchen, and intended for a dining room, but they ate in the kitchen, and she liked the view when she was working. Because the house sat on a hill, the back of the basement was above ground. Ben’s room was down there, a sprawling bachelor’s room that the three boys once shared.
Bingo’s and Jenny’s rooms were upstairs next to each other. Bingo’s was not large, but full of books and big enough for a desk, a day bed, and an old blue chair Georgie had bought at the Salvation Army when they were first married. Georgie never threw away a piece of furniture. She recovered it or painted it yellow or red or blue. The Dermody household was a hodgepodge of comfortable, mismatched pieces that suited her perfectly. Yellow was Georgie’s favorite color, it washed through the house like butter and sunshine.