Jenny's Story Ch. 02

By sbrooks103x, inspired by Jenny Maitland in "Faithful" by Todd172, with permission.

Thanks to Todd172 for his permission to tell Jenny's story and his advice, Crkcppr for Beta reading, and, as always, blackrandl1958 for her sweet inspiration and editing.

As I stepped of the bus clutching my bag holding all my worldly possessions, such as they were, I looked forlornly around. In one way, it had hardly changed at all; in other ways it was completely different, or maybe that was me.

I was too embarrassed to go home or to look up my old friends. I had left with such high hopes; dreaming of one day returning home proudly, the big success, maybe even a star!

Instead, I was damaged goods, ashamed of what I had done, who I was. I was sure that anyone who looked at me would know that my very face screamed, "Slut!"

I didn't want to go anywhere where they might ask too many questions or that I might be recognized, or run into anyone that I might know. As I wandered down Main Street, I passed Mrs. Strickland's boarding house and saw the hand-lettered sign in the window: "Help Wanted, Apply Within, Room and Board Included!" That sounded perfect! Living and working at the same place meant that I wouldn't be out in public much, and most pf the clientele were transients, unlikely to know me or anyone that I knew.

Gathering my courage, I walked in and asked for Mrs. Strickland, praying that she wouldn't recognize me. Mrs. Strickland came into the front room, eyed me up and down warily, but didn't say anything.

"I'll expect you to help me out in the kitchen," she said, "serve the boarders, clear the table and do the dishes. You may need to help the maids out on occasion. You'll get a room, three meals a day along with a small stipend. It's not much, but it's good, honest work. Do you still want the job?"

"Yes, yes I do," I said, "To be honest I don't have much choice."

"All right," she said, "You're hired as long as you do your job. Now what do we call you?"

I hadn't given that any thought. I certainly didn't want to use my real name! "It's Jane," I blurted out, "Jane Connelly."

"All right 'Jane Connelly,' let's get you situated.

With that, I began my new life, certainly not the glamorous life I had imagined when I had left town, but it was good decent work that allowed me to keep my self-respect.

One problem I did have was that my experiences in Chicago had left me very wary of men, and the vast majority of Mrs. Strickland's boarders were men. I kept to myself as much as I could, never giving off the little flirtatious looks that used to come so naturally to me. I never wore make up, dressed very plainly and just let my hair fall straight down with no effort to do it up at all.

I rarely spoke to anyone, especially the men, beyond what was required for my job, and I cringed if anyone so much as touched me.

After I had been working for Mrs. Strickland for about a year, my whole world nearly came crashing down around me, when who should come walking in the front door but Mark Simpson. Mark and I had gone to school together. We never dated, we weren't even really friends, but we did know each other, and I was scared to death that he would recognize me as he looked at me curiously. When Mrs. Strickland introduced me as Jane, he just stared for a moment, then shook his head as if to clear it and went about his business.

Over the next few months, I would still catch him giving me funny looks, but he never let on that he knew me. He still made me so nervous that when he was reaching for a roll one day and brushed my hand, I ran from the room in tears.

Things settled down for a few months until Mark came in with another young man who I recognized from high school, John Lee. John, like Mark, had never been any sort of a boyfriend, though we did chat occasionally.

I saw Mark and John whispering while looking at me and I thought, "Oh, my God, they know who I am," and nearly panicked!

I decided that I had to do my job, but when I was serving John a piece of cake he said, "Jenny?" and I almost dropped the cake on his lap!

I jumped back, staring at him, and didn't answer him at all.

He pretended as if he hadn't noticed my reaction and said, "It's nice to see you Jenny. Been a long time since school."

I couldn't stop shaking, I felt like someone had stepped on my grave and watched John carefully. "J-John? It... it's been a while. Are... are you back?"

"Just got back from the Navy," he said. "I'll be looking for a farm to buy. I miss planting."

"That's... nice," I said and ran from the room.

From that day on, John would talk quietly to me, telling me tales of the wonders he had seen. I was thrilled by his stories, except when he would talk about the crowded Asian cities. This always brought back memories of Chicago.

He was always gentle with me, never pushing too hard, as you would with a stray cat or dog you were trying to help. He was gradually chipping away at my protective shell and occasionally I would start talking to him before he spoke to me.

John seemed to be getting a little frustrated with how withdrawn I was, and one day when it was just the two of us, he pulled a pretty ribbon from his pocket, it looked like something that he would have gotten in Japan or China.

"Jenny?" he said.

I was still wary of men, but I was beginning to trust him and said, "John?"

He held the ribbon up and said, "It's not much, but I can't help thinking this would go better in your hair than in the bottom of my sea bag."

I looked at the ribbon. It was so pretty; it reminded me of my days before I went to Chicago when I had always had pretty things.

Just as I started reaching out my hand for it John said, "It's from Hong Kong..."

I don't know why, maybe the mention of Hong Kong reminded me of my time in the city, but I panicked and ran for the kitchen.

All the other times that I had run off, John left me alone, but for some reason this time he followed me.

I was trying to hide in a far corner of the kitchen, trying to hold in sobs that fought their way out in shuddering gasps, forcing their way through clenched teeth. My eyes were closed and leaking tears.

He knelt a few feet away from me, and said, "Jenny," so softly that I could hardly hear him.

I looked all around like a scared rabbit, then locked eyes with him.

"Whatever it is," John said, "whatever happened... Jenny, I'm not it."

He held the ribbon up and said, "It's just a ribbon, and I can't use it, but you can."

I still eyed the ribbon with suspicion, I don't know why, it was just a piece of silk.

"It's yours, Jenny," he said. "All you have to do is take it. From a friend to a friend."

I swear it took all my strength of will to reach over and just touch the end of the ribbon; then John got up and went back to the dining room, leaving me sobbing in the kitchen with the ribbon in my hands.

It took me three days before I could go back out there, but with a little lighter heart and a ribbon in my hair.

John said, "That ribbon looks perfect on you, Jenny."

I gave him a small smile; it wasn't much, but it was probably my first real smile since I had arrived in Chicago.

After that, each day got a little bit better. I found myself smiling more, and not just at John, but at Mark and even some strangers. I started touching John's hand, sometimes letting my touch linger.

As Christmas approached, I asked John what he would like for Christmas and he told me that all he wanted was a kiss on the cheek. I almost panicked, but instead of running off, I pulled out a chair and sat next to him at the table.

"John," I said, holding up a hand to keep him from interrupting, trying as hard as I could to keep my voice from shaking.

"I appreciate everything you've done. But you know I'm a Maitland girl and..." I drew in a breath and looked away, "...and everyone knows Maitland girls aren't good for anyone, just trouble waiting to happen."

John took my hand and I let him, even holding tight for a minute. "I'm not everyone Jenny, and I don't think that you're trouble."

I looked down, not daring to look at him. When I could finally speak, my voice even frightened me. I said, "I'm ruined John. You wouldn't be my first or even my tenth. Not even my hundredth."

I expected him to be shocked. I learned later what it was like for a sailor away from home for months or years in exotic foreign ports, with bar girls all looking to get together with a Yankee sailor.

He tightened his grip on my hand. "I could be your last, Jenny. That's all I'd care about."

He pulled me over, hugging me. I started crying and couldn't stop for a long while. I told him my story, and he seemed to understand.

I tried to push him away, to give him a chance to walk away, to find a "decent" girl, but I had to admit that I didn't try all that hard!

John spent the next few months courting me as if I was someone special, and I guess I was in his eyes, even if I still didn't think so!

John had a Sears House catalog, and he made me sit beside him, asking me what kind of house I wanted, what features I would like.

John found his land and we were married in the Spring, and living in a Sears Model 113 Modern House on 25 acres just outside of town.

I wore ribbons in my hair for John every day, even pretending not to notice when he had new ones made up after he ran out of the ones that he had brought back from Asia.

I had made up my mind to be the most devoted wife that I could be, watching John work the fields when I wasn't doing my own job keeping our house.

I made it my mission to be worthy of his love and devotion and my greatest joy, besides John's unfailing love, was to present him with our son, Tommy.

I thought my life was perfect for four years, until the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, and we were at war!

John was out working in the fields when the telegram came, recalling him to active service.

I was frantic, I was sure that after all that I had been through, that after finally finding some happiness, that it was all going to be snatched away from me.

"Jenny," John said, "you've heard the radio. I'll be teaching somewhere and I'll make it home as much as I can."

"You'd better. I can't do this..." I gestured around us, "without you."

John said, "This won't last long, a year or so, and we'll be done with it."

I was still in a panic. "I really can't do this without you," I cried.

He seemed to finally understand what I was really talking about. He took me into the house and sat on a kitchen chair, pulling me onto his lap.

"Jenny," he said, "I will come back. I promise to God, I will."

I hugged him tightly, my tears running down his neck.

We talked and talked and he tried to get me to promise to be strong.

All I could say was, "As strong as I can."

John had to leave almost immediately, but he made Mark promise to watch out for Tommy and me, and he did all that he could.

I tried; I really, really tried, but then, the telegram came:

THE SECRETARY OF THE NAVY REGRETS TO INFORM YOU...

John was dead.

End Chapter Two