Springtime had taken some flowers from the new greenhouses and decorated the small altar they had made out of the stainless steel table at the far side of the wall. Movita had a few extra yards of fabric to lay out on the floor as a ‘red carpet’ for Suki to walk down.
As for the guests, Gwen thought it best to make the attendees only the immediate crew, and it was understood by Suki that it had to be done this way. But in her innocence and happiness she was pleased to be allowed even to have the marriage take place.
After the justice of the peace concluded the vows, Roger gave Suki a quick peck on the lips – most certainly he wanted to be more passionate, but due to the stipulations Gwen had put in place, he was more than understanding about it.
Everyone went around the cafeteria and hugged and kissed Suki, and Gwen handed little Christina off to Roger to hold. ‘Here’s your daddy, little girl.’ The baby cooed at him as if she knew who he was.
Then it came time for everyone to approach Jennifer Spencer, the newly paroled inmate at Jennings. All the women had such great admiration for her, the work she had done to get Jennings to be a more humane place to have to stay in.
Movita, Maggie, Theresa, and Suki were sitting at the table waiting for Jennifer to finish talking with Roger and playing with Christina. As she came to join them, they greeted her with strangely subdued enthusiasm. They had mixed feelings about Jennifer leaving. They were jealous, they were envious, they would miss her terribly, and they were unselfishly happy for her. All of them had all the feelings.
‘Oh God, girlfriend,’ Movita said, giving her a hug. ‘I’m gonna miss you!’
‘Let’s not say good-bye yet,’ Suki cried, tears filling her eyes. ‘Not until we have to.’
‘Okay,’ Movita said, ‘let’s eat. You won’t believe what we made for the bride and groom and the parolee!’
‘Come and sit down,’ Maggie said. ‘Theresa and I will bring it out.’
The table was set with paper place mats decorated with crayon drawings.
‘Movita, these are adorable,’ Jennifer said. ‘I see another business here.’
‘If you’re not careful,’ Warden Harding warned, ‘Movita’s going to buy this prison out from under you.’
Movita laughed. ‘Then I’ll throw myself out!’
They all laughed; Jen slapped the table in her hilarity. Gwen could see the happiness bubbling up inside her eyes like an eruption beginning deep in a volcano. The woman was intoxicated with the thought of freedom so close.
Maggie and Theresa came out of the kitchen carrying trays of covered dishes, which they set down with a flourish. ‘Macaroni and gravy!’ Maggie cried. ‘What do you think of that!’
‘It’s our favorite,’ Suki and Jennifer said simultaneously.
Their raptures were interrupted by the noise of the cafeteria door opening. For a second they all feared an unpleasant interruption. Then they saw that it was Warden Harding carrying out a tray full of flavored crushed-ice drinks. ‘To help the cake go easier,’ Frances said as she popped her head out from behind the Warden. ‘I figured you’d want one last ice delivery.’
The small group laughed and Warden Harding set the tray down in the middle of the table. ‘Drink up!’ she said.
Everyone grabbed at the drinks. There was no argument over who got what color, since they were all green. There was silence for a moment as they sporked up the ice pellets. ‘It’s really too bad you can’t find Cher when you leave and let her know how we all are doing,’ Movita said.
There wasn’t a dry eye at the table after that, and Theresa was the only one who could speak. ‘The food’s getting cold,’ she said softly.
‘Wait, I have something else,’ Movita said, and disappeared into the kitchen. She returned with a two-tiered cake. It was signed by the entire crew in colored frosting.
‘It’s got a bride and groom on it,’ Suki said.
‘And look at this, they put “Good Luck Jen” on the back side of it.’
Gwen cleared her throat and lifted up what was left of her ice drink. ‘To the future!’ she declared, and everyone raised their cups in unison.
47
Jennifer Spencer
He hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound.
Isa. 61:1
After serving almost a year of a three-to-five-year sentence for investment fraud, Jennifer Spencer was finally leaving the Jennings Correctional Facility for Women. In many ways she was as terrified to leave the place as she had once been to come to it.
As she waited nervously for her release to be officially processed, she remembered so clearly the day of her incarceration. She was so sure of herself back then – so arrogant, so certain that she had everything under control. She knew – or thought that she knew – exactly who Jennifer Spencer was. But what she didn’t know was what prison was, and she didn’t know what prison could do to her. Now, ironically, she knew prison life all too well, but she wasn’t so sure that she knew herself. Who was Jennifer Spencer now? And what would life outside prison hold for her? The only thing she knew for certain was that neither she nor Jennings was the same. Jennings was a far better place – and Jennifer wanted to believe that she was a far better woman. A better woman with the permanent record that the nuns always said she would have.
Jennifer smiled as she remembered how they had meted out detentions and demerits for each and every minor infraction of their Byzantine rules. Then, even after you served your time and suffered your punishment the nuns always threatened, This is going on your permanent record! Jennifer had never once believed that such a record actually existed – until now. Now, the complete account of her arrest, trial, conviction, and prison sentence – along with her fingerprints and mugshots – were part of a nationwide law enforcement database. Jennifer Spencer was an official ex-con. She left Jennings with a permanent record – but little else.
It came as no real surprise that the bag bearing Jennifer’s name held no trace of the clothing or personal belongings that Cher had bagged and tagged on the infamous day of Jennifer’s incarceration. Jennifer was neither surprised nor outraged; she didn’t really want to leave Jennings in an Armani suit anyway. Probably whoever took over Cher’s job in Intake managed to confiscate her clothing. What the hell, Jennifer thought, they wouldn’t fit me right anyway – she’d lost weight during her stay in Jennings. Jennifer was going to be on the Outside – and she didn’t have a damn thing to wear.
‘Oh, Jennifer,’ Gwen sighed when they discovered the thievery, ‘there’s nothing in your bag except someone’s old torn blue jeans and a T-shirt.’
Jennifer just laughed. ‘Give ‘em to me,’ she said. ‘If they fit, I’ll wear ‘em. It doesn’t matter.’
‘But you can’t wear these,’ Gwen protested. ‘Do we have time to call Lenny and ask him to bring you something from your apartment?’
‘It’s fine,’ Jennifer said as she changed into the clothes. ‘And besides, these match my record, don’t you think?’ The sneakers in the bag were far too large for Jennifer, and it was decided that she could wear the shoes issued from the prison. ‘I’ll return them,’ Jennifer assured the Warden, ‘I promise.’
Gwen just shook her head ruefully, then offered her hand for a handshake. The handshake turned into a clumsy embrace, but Gwen insisted that Jennifer should not get all maudlin and sentimental. ‘I would like to believe that we both learned a great deal from each other,’ she said warmly.
Jennifer nodded, wiped her eyes, and watched as Gwen Harding hit the final ‘enter’ button that sent Jennifer’s record to every computer in every prison, police station, and precinct house in America. The theme song from Cheers popped into Jennifer’s head, and even though she didn’t have anything she’d come in with – or a purse to put it in – she walked out of Jennings with a smile. She hummed the theme song. Perhaps everyone would know her name, but she would be free, and that was all that mattered.
She didn’t want the things she had thought she wanted. Clothes and furniture and Sub-Zero refrigerators were not important. What was important was her freedom and though most people took it for granted, she would never forget that.
Roger Camry was there to unlock the gate for her, and Lenny was waiting next to his car. ‘What are you singing?’ he asked Jennifer as she approached him.
‘It’s too warped to explain,’ Jennifer told him. ‘C’mon, let’s get out of here.’
‘Are you wearing that?’ Lenny asked in surprise.
‘It’s all I have,’ Jennifer said with a shrug. ‘Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?’
Lenny blushed. ‘No,’ he said softly. ‘It’s just that I brought you a gift.’
Jennifer shyly accepted the gift and eagerly opened it right on the spot. Inside was a beautiful silk scarf that she lovingly lifted out of the distinctive gift box from Gucci. ‘Oh Lenny,’ she cried, ‘it’s lovely.’ And she brought the scarf to her face and caressed her cheek with the luxurious silk. ‘It’s lovely, Lenny,’ she said again, ‘really so lovely.’ Then, with a flourish, she expertly tied the scarf about her neck and said very haughtily, ‘Jennifer Spencer has always been a trendsetter. I predict that in less than a month every woman on Wall Street will be wearing silk with denim.’
‘Every woman on Wall Street will probably be here,’ Lenny joked.
‘Oh,’ Jennifer sighed sadly, ‘haven’t the people here suffered enough already?’ As she opened the door to step into Lenny’s car, she saw Springtime in her flower bed. ‘It’s looking real good, Springtime,’ she shouted and waved. Springtime’s smile was no different than it had been the day it first sent shivers down Jennifer’s spine, but now Jennifer knew her; now the smile had a name, and that made all the difference in the world.
‘What’s a little old lady like that doing in prison?’ Lenny asked.
‘She had fields and fields of pot growing north of Albany,’ Jennifer laughed. ‘She sold it to her friends with glaucoma.’ Jennifer took a final long look at Springtime, her flower bed, and the prison walls, then she turned to Lenny and said, ‘Take me home now. I’m ready to go home.’
Jennifer and Lenny’s eyes met for just a moment, and as always, Lenny nervously looked away. But he didn’t move from where he stood next to her. ‘It’s going to be okay, Jennifer,’ he said, looking at his feet. ‘Everything will be back to normal before you know it.’
‘I don’t even remember what normal is,’ Jennifer told him.
Lenny lifted his head and stared into her eyes. This time, neither of them looked away – nor did they say anything. Jennifer smiled at Lenny. ‘Let’s go,’ she said, and she opened the door and sank into the front seat of his car. It was the softest thing that she had sat on in almost a year. She closed her eyes, heard Lenny start the engine, and never looked back as they turned out of the prison drive.
As they neared the city, Jennifer kept her nose almost pressed to the window to take in every sight along the way. It was almost too much. After a year of dusty rose, dirty green, and battleship gray, the rich and wonderful hues of New York were almost dizzying. It wasn’t long before she felt right back at home. All the stores, all the people, all the traffic. It was all wonderful. ‘Hey,’ Jennifer shouted, craning her neck as they drove through the street, ‘I think that woman back there used to be at Jennings.’
‘Lock your doors,’ Lenny said reflexively. ‘This is a rather rough neighborhood.’
‘Bigot,’ Jennifer reprimanded him. ‘I bet a person isn’t any more likely to be robbed on this street than she is on Wall Street.’
‘Touché!’ Lenny conceded.
It wasn’t long before Jennifer realized that they were headed for her loft in Tribeca. She felt her stomach knot in nervous anticipation of her return. How many times had she dreamed of being home? How many times had she returned to this place in her imagination? Now again, she closed her eyes and envisioned her loft. She could see the living room, the kitchen, the bedroom. Nothing was changed – everything was there. But now, in the living room she saw Movita, in the kitchen stood Theresa, and in the bedroom she saw another bed, and on it lay Suki. She opened her eyes and smiled sadly. She was going home – and yet, she feared that she was still going to be homesick.
‘You’re home,’ Lenny said as they rounded a corner and pulled up in front of Jennifer’s building. He cut the engine, jumped out of the car, and came around to open her door. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked when Jennifer made no move to get out.
‘I’m afraid,’ she replied with a whisper.
Lenny held out his hand. ‘Come on,’ he said softly, ‘there’s nothing to be afraid of.’ Then he added shyly but with genuine valor, ‘I’m right here with you.’ He helped her from the car, then took her arm and walked her to the door. ‘I don’t have my keys,’ Jennifer said suddenly as they neared the building. ‘When they went looking for the clothes and things I checked in with, all of my stuff was gone,’ she said.
‘Don’t worry,’ Lenny assured her. ‘I have keys and I made another pair, just in case.’
They let themselves into the building and rode the rather cumbersome, but atmospheric, freight elevator up to Jennifer’s loft. Had she ever really lived in this place? Jennifer thought, as the ride brought back memories of a life she thought was gone forever. She tried to remember being here, living here. She tried to recall the nights of making love with Tom. Had he ever really loved her? Did she love him? She didn’t know. She supposed the answer was no – and yet, she had enjoyed his company and she did care deeply for his well-being. She could’ve probably made a marriage to Tom Branston work. Their kids would’ve been terrific, she thought ruefully. The elevator clanged to a halt and Lenny lifted the wooden gate and escorted her to the familiar door.
Lenny took his key, and without hesitation opened the door and gestured for Jennifer to walk in. The sight of all her beautiful furniture before her caused her to want to cry out in happiness. She reached for Lenny’s hand to help her calm herself and to keep from collapsing. She walked around the living room caressing the tabletops and the upholstery fabric. She picked up a throw pillow or two and hugged them to her chest. She walked into the kitchen and ran her fingers over the stove top. A real cooktop. No more hot plates. Then she went into the television room. When she opened the door she was taken aback. ‘What are you doing here?’ Jennifer asked more calmly than she expected. ‘Why are you in my apartment?’
Lenny came over and stood behind Jennifer.
‘A friend of yours said I could stay here until you got back,’ Cher said, mustering her familiar bravado.
‘You’re lying,’ Jennifer spat back at her.
‘No, I’m not,’ Cher answered calmly. ‘And besides, this isn’t what it looks like. I’ve been looking after your place for you until you got out.’
‘And by the looks of you you’re taking care of my clothes, too,’ Jennifer snapped. ‘You took my things from Intake didn’t you?’
‘Hey, you weren’t going to need them anytime soon,’ Cher said.
Then there was noise from the bedroom and a man’s voice – a familiar one – called out. ‘When are you coming back in here?’
‘Oh, and you decided to have houseguests too? How convenient,’ Jennifer said.
‘Well, it’s not like he’s unfamiliar with the …’
Just then the bedroom door swung open and Tom walked into the room wearing nothing but his expensive blue silk boxers. ‘Are you going to join me?’ he asked and then looked up.
Jennifer stared at him in dumbstruck amazement. She was almost glad that he was giving her yet another reason to despise him. She just looked at him.
‘Jennifer?’ Tom said in horror, ‘Jenny – is that you?’
‘Yeah, Tom,’ she said sadly, ‘it’s me.’
‘I’m uh – I’m sorry, I uh – didn’t think you’d –’ he fumbled.
‘What’s the matter? Aren’t you glad to see me?’ she said angrily.
<
br /> ‘You uh – you, well – you …’
Jennifer didn’t speak. She felt herself slipping into a rage, and she didn’t want to relinquish control of this moment just because she was angry. After taking a deep breath she said quietly, ‘I cannot believe that you have done this, Tom. Haven’t you hurt me enough already?’ There was no more rage left in her, no more hurt – only a deep and powerful sense of indifference. It was, perhaps, the most terrifying emotion she had ever known. She felt Lenny take hold of her hand, and once again she was grateful for this man who had seen her through the darkest days of her life.
‘This must be very uncomfortable for you, Jenny,’ Tom finally said, breaking the silence.
‘And are you comfortable, Tom?’ she asked.
He sighed heavily and hung his head. ‘No, Jenny, of course I’m not comfortable,’ he answered her.
‘Please don’t call me Jenny,’ she said coldly.
Tom only nodded in consent.
‘I want to explain what’s happening here,’ Cher said calmly from where she sat. ‘I know you ain’t gonna believe this,’ she continued, ‘but I really am very sorry for what I’ve done.’
Jennifer snorted in disbelief. ‘You’ve apparently stolen everything that I had,’ she said angrily, ‘and what you didn’t steal you ruined. What gave you the right to do that?’
‘What gave you the right to have it?’ Cher shot back, standing up to face Jennifer.
‘I earned it,’ Jennifer snarled at her. ‘I earned everything that I had and you took it.’ She willed herself not to give in to the sobs that were threatening to erupt from her clenched and aching throat.
‘I said I was sorry, Jennifer, and I meant it. I was just watching over everything for you. Trying to help you out.’
Insiders Page 36
