by Beth Neff
Finally, she says, “That is a great idea and I’m sure you would do just fine, but I have an even better idea. Stay here for a minute.”
Donna disappears into her bedroom and returns momentarily carrying a jar of coins, dumps them out on the table.
“Okay, let’s count.”
Cassie has no idea what Donna is thinking, but she begins helping to sort the coins, putting aside the washers and hexnuts that are mixed in.
Cassie has rarely handled money before. She has to stop herself from examining each coin closely, marveling at the intricate pictures on the surfaces. She wants to know how these coins are made, where they come from, how many of them there are in the world. She has become completely absorbed in the task, has forgotten Donna is even there, and then it’s over, all the coins sorted out, and Cassie feels a slight surge of disappointment. Donna tells her to drop the pennies back in the jar and then count the piles.
Cassie counts fifty-one quarters and Donna counts forty-eight dimes. They count the nickels together, add up their totals to make thirty-seven. Donna stares at the piles for a moment, shakes her head.
“Just under twenty dollars. Okay, I’ve got another idea. Follow me.”
Cassie follows Donna into the front hallway and watches while she opens the closet door, staring in like she did the refrigerator.
She says, “Somewhere in here is an old purse of mine.”
The closet is so full that Donna has to stand for a moment with her hands on her hips debating her strategy. First, she moves a tall pile of puzzle boxes from right in front of the door to farther back and then drags a large suitcase out into the hallway, causing a fat green nylon bag that looks to Cassie like an overgrown version of the worms they sometimes find on the broccoli to tumble directly into the open space.
Donna laughs as she spreads her arms to prevent any further mayhem, shakes her head and says, “Can’t imagine the last time anyone around here had time to go camping.”
“Is that a sleeping bag?” Cassie asks as she reaches to take the green worm from Donna.
“Actually, that’s a tent, if you can believe it. The sleeping bag is probably in here somewhere, too. Grace used to do a lot of camping. This isn’t all her stuff though. I have to admit that I’ve contributed to this mess some myself.”
“Are those your suitcases?” Cassie has noticed that, in addition to the large one, its smaller mate is teetering on the shelf just above their heads.
Donna looks up at it warily, bends lower to peer into the back of the closet.
“No, those belong to Grace, too. I came here with my clothes in garbage bags, just like some of you did,” she answers, her voice muffled by the hanging coats and sweaters she is buried in to reach for something hanging on a hook on the back wall. Donna emerges with an imitation leather bag clutched in her fist. She smiles at it a little fondly.
“Belonged to my grandmother. It’s probably, like, fifty years old, maybe older. But I’m pretty sure there’s an old wallet in here and maybe, just maybe . . .” But she doesn’t finish the sentence.
Then Donna is kneeling on the floor, and Cassie squats down beside her as she first tries to sort through the purse and then just ends up dumping the entire contents out on the floor. Donna spots the wallet first and snatches it up, holds it too her chest as if it might leap away, and wiggles her eyebrows in a comical fashion like she is just about to reveal a secret.
“Did you ever hide money?” she asks Cassie.
“What do you mean?” Cassie can’t imagine why anyone would hide money unless they were afraid someone was going to steal it. She used to wonder what happened to the money from Gram’s Social Security checks. Gordon always made a big deal about her placing all the mail on the kitchen table and he would sort through it, take the checks when they came, and leave the rest lying there. She never thought to hide the checks, wonders now what would have happened if she had, why she never thought to figure out a way for Gram and her to keep them for themselves.
“Oh, I used to always leave a couple dollars, maybe a five if I had it, in a coat pocket or folded up behind my driver’s license in my billfold. I’d forget about it and then discover it later or have it sometime when I desperately needed it. Kind of dumb, I guess, but kind of fun, too.”
“So, you think there might be some money in there?” Cassie nods toward the wallet.
“Well, let’s take a look.” Donna opens the wallet, hesitates, then hands it to Cassie. “Here, you look. Wait! How much do we have so far again?”
“It was nineteen dollars and forty cents.”
“Okay. Look inside.”
Cassie is into the game. She thumbs the few bills, pulls out a one, and wiggles it in front of Donna.
“Okay. Twenty dollars and forty cents,” Donna says. “Anything else?”
Cassie pulls out another one, lays it in Donna’s hands.
“Oh gosh, that better not be all. Come on. You’re driving me crazy.”
After a third one dollar bill, Cassie pulls out a five and then, finally, a ten-dollar bill.
Donna claps her hands—“Yes!”—then grasps Cassie’s hand with the ten-dollar bill in it. They are laughing and nearly run back into the kitchen, lay out all the bills on the table. Thirty-seven dollars and forty cents.
“I think we got it.” Donna dashes over to the kitchen drawer and pulls out a phone book. “So, what kind of pizza do you like?”
“What?”
“Pizza. Do you like pizza?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never had it. Are you going to make it?”
“No, I’m going to order it. From a pizza place. They make it there and then they’ll bring it to us. We won’t have to cook anything.”
“Really?”
“Yep. We have to go in the office to use the phone.”
Cassie doesn’t move as Donna starts to leave the room. Donna is still flipping through the pages of the phone book as she walks, glances over her shoulder at Cassie, motions with her head, but Cassie doesn’t want to go. She, like the other girls, has only been in the office to talk with her social worker when she comes to check on things, and Cassie doesn’t want to think about that, doesn’t want to remember that she is here for a crime, that she’s done something other people think is awful and that she does, too. She just wants to sit here at the kitchen table with the money and let Donna open that door to the outside world, the one with pizza delivery and laws that she doesn’t understand and judgments she’ll wear around her neck forever the minute she steps into it.
“I’ll . . . um, just wait here.”
Fortunately, Donna is already halfway through the door, is concentrated on her mission and barely turns around.
“Okay. Guard that money with your life. I’ll be right back.”
Guarding with your life. The very thing Cassie has failed to do.
LAUREN THINKS MAYBE the pizza is for her. She knows at least that it was her idea. She doesn’t actually like pizza, but maybe it means they are loosening up a bit. She peels the cheese off the top of one slender piece and nibbles at the edge of the crust. She thought maybe Donna would thank her for suggesting it, but, instead, all the attention is on Cassie, who has never had pizza before. What a loser. She says she’s seen recipes for it in cookbooks but never thought to fix it. It didn’t sound good. Now she is eating like a horse, and Lauren is trying to figure out how the girl could have been so chubby when she got here and is now so thin when she eats anything she wants. When Lauren sees Cassie with her hand over her stomach, looking a little green like she’s eaten too much too fast, it suddenly strikes her that Cassie looked, when they first got here, a lot like those scummy girls who come back to school after having a baby. Impossible. Where would Cassie have even met a boy? But no. Not a boy. That creepy Gordon. Lauren stares at Cassie with new interest. She is the
only one of them who has never talked about her crime.
Lauren is just about ready to excuse herself from the table when Ellie suggests they play cards. Now she’s sure the point of all this is to keep their minds off Sarah. Surprise, surprise. Everything around here is always about somebody except her. She’s so sick of it she could scream. But she can’t leave the table right now. She has just realized she has business to attend to here, so she plays along.
Lauren is not a very good card player. Her dad tried to teach her bridge so she could be a fourth if any of their friends failed to show on bridge night, but Lauren never really caught onto the game, probably because her father was such a horrible teacher, impatient and so self-interested that he couldn’t see what was hard for her to understand. They are stuck with stupid kids’ games, Bloody Knuckles and Bullshit. It’s completely impossible to play Bullshit with Cassie. She wins almost every time, remembers every card and who has what so you can’t fool her. They try Spoons for awhile with the same result. Another example of somebody getting all this attention for the one single thing they are actually good at. Lauren is sure she could beat her at poker since Cassie is completely lacking the killer instinct for bluffing and gambling, but she already suggested it and got shot down. Figures.
She’s waited long enough. Donna is upstairs checking on Sarah for the zillionth time, even put a couple of pieces of pizza aside so Sarah could eat them when she feels better. You’d think the girl was dying of cancer or something they way they are fawning over her, talking about how bad they feel having a party without her. If this is a party then this place is even more pathetic than Lauren thought. Still, it’s good Donna is out of the room, leaving just Ellie and Grace. Grace is trying to stay focused, has acted almost cheerful tonight, but now she is fading. Even Lauren can see how tired she looks, though it’s the woman’s own fault. She gets up before the goddamn birds and never stops working all day long. But it’s still no excuse. She needs to follow up on her promises, and Lauren is very anxious to get to town.
She is just about ready to bring it up when Grace stretches her arms, yawns so her mouth is a cavern, and says, “Well, we’ve got to leave pretty early so I’m going to get some sleep. Jenna, five a.m., okay?”
The room has gone quiet and Ellie is looking completely confused, is frowning at Grace. Lauren is wondering too what Grace is talking about. Why does Jenna need to get up? Is she supposed to help Grace load the truck for market? Nobody has had to do that before, as far as Lauren knows. Certainly, even Jenna isn’t crazy enough to volunteer to get up at five fucking-a.m., even to be with her precious Grace.
Ellie’s voice is like an echo for Lauren’s thoughts. “Why does Jenna need to get up?”
“Oh. Because she’s going to the market with me. I guess I forgot to mention it.”
Jenna is going to the market? What the hell? Jenna, Jenna, Jenna. It just figures. Lauren feels the fury rising in her throat, threatening to choke her, closes her eyes for a moment, and swallows hard. She can’t get distracted, has to keep her focus so she can make use of this new development.
When Lauren opens her eyes, Ellie is laughing a little, shaking her head as if there has been just some minor misunderstanding, but her smile looks a bit grim.
“Yes, you forgot to mention it. Actually, I had a conversation with Lauren earlier today and promised her she could be the first to go to town, for the pick-up on Tuesday. I didn’t know you planned to take someone tomorrow.”
“Well, I didn’t exactly plan it. We were talking this afternoon and it just occurred to me. I never heard from anyone else that they wanted to go. Is there a problem?”
Ellie is biting her bottom lip, a habit Lauren is sure she doesn’t realize she has, and tapping her fingers on the pile of cards in front of her.
“I don’t know if it’s exactly a problem. I just wish we’d talked about it.”
“I guess we’re talking about it now.”
Ellie smiles again. “I guess we are. Girls, would you excuse us for a minute? Grace and I will get this worked out.” She looks directly at Lauren, which gives Lauren the perfect opportunity to just glower back, and starts to get up.
But Grace isn’t moving. “Look, I agree. I don’t think there’s a problem. I’ll take Jenna to the market tomorrow, and then Lauren can go with me for the pick-up on Tuesday.”
“I guess I’m just feeling concerned that Lauren asked me first and I want to honor that request. Couldn’t you switch it, take Lauren tomorrow and Jenna on Tuesday?”
“Well, first of all, the market is a lot more work, loading and unloading, taking care of customers there. I don’t really see Lauren wanting to do that. Second, I already told Jenna she could go and if I take it back, that just makes me the liar. I’m already the one who has to tell them what to do, who judges their work. They already see me as the bully—”
“No, they don’t. Grace, that’s ridiculous. You don’t give them any credit.”
“The thing is, Ellie, you don’t give me any credit. All you keep saying is how you want me to be involved, how you want the farm and the program to be ‘integrated.’ Now, when I go ahead and try to build something, you know, a relationship with the girls, you say I shouldn’t, or it’s the wrong one, or the wrong time, or something. I can’t win.”
“I didn’t say any of that. I’m extremely glad you are taking one of the girls with you, but it’s not a relationship with the girls in general you seem to be building, just one girl in particular.”
Ellie stops abruptly, seems amazed that she has said this aloud. Jenna is watching the conversation as if it has nothing to do with her, slumped in her chair, a look of total disinterest on her face. Cassie is, as always, staring at her hands.
Ellie sounds almost apologetic when she adds, “I just want to be sure that what we are doing is fair.”
“So now you’re saying I’m unfair. I’ll tell you what’s fair, and I’m glad the girls are here to hear it. Jenna works her ass off in the garden, gets more done than two of the other girls combined. She’s out there early, stays late, actually seems interested. In fact, I would say she’s thriving on it, which I would think is exactly what you want, but when I want to reward her for it, you start calling it unfair.”
Lauren is almost smiling now, enjoying watching Ellie squirm. She already knows that Grace is an asshole and hates Lauren’s guts so nothing she says surprises her. It’s Ellie that Lauren wants to see fall. She was all ready to do a little pushing but it looks like Grace is handling it just fine without any help.
When Ellie speaks again, her words are slow and deliberate, as if she can rein in the emotion.
“Listen, Grace. Maybe we’re just blowing this whole thing out of proportion. Nothing happening here is a symptom of anything else, of some gigantic problem. We just crossed our wires and now we need to uncross them. I think we share an interest in everyone’s overall well-being. What can we do that satisfies everybody?”
“I take Jenna to the market like I said I was going to and Lauren to the pick-up on Tuesday like you said I was going to, without consulting me, I might add. I’m not even going to get into that or into why Lauren gets to say a single thing about what she wants to do when it’s like pulling teeth to get her to do anything we want her to do.”
“Do you think you could keep your voice down?”
“What are you protecting them from? From me? So, my opinions, my raised voice, are putting everything in danger?”
Grace is up from her chair when Lauren speaks up.
“I think it’s fine if you take Jenna with you to the market tomorrow. I don’t really want to get up that early anyway. Thanks, though. Maybe I’ll go on Tuesday. I’ll see how I feel then.”
All Grace can do is nod and squint her eyes at Lauren, trying to take in the twist, but Lauren just gives her a big smile back. Now, she’s ready to get out of h
ere as fast as she can before Ellie decides they all need to explore their feelings about everything.
“OKAY, NOW YOU have to mail this letter for me.”
“What do you mean?”
Lauren has come into Jenna’s room after they’ve all gone up to bed. Jenna is lying on her back reading, barely raises her eyes when she sees who it is. That pisses Lauren off, and her voice comes out a bit more surly than she had planned.
“I was going to mail this letter when I went to town but now I need you to do it since you’re going first,” Lauren announces.
“Why can’t you just do it when you go on Tuesday?”
“I won’t have to go on Tuesday if you mail it for me now. You don’t actually think I want to hang out with her, do you?” Lauren asks, her nose wrinkling with revulsion.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, come on, Jenna. Grace hates me. And besides, I don’t want to be alone with her. She makes me uncomfortable. But obviously you like them that way, your women. All burly and gruff and buff and everything.”
“Get out, Lauren.”
“For heaven’s sakes, I’m just kidding. Will you though?” she pleads.
“We’re not allowed to send letters without giving them to Ellie first. You know that. Why would I get in trouble for you?”
“You’re not going to get in trouble. If you actually had someone to write to, you’d be doing exactly the same thing, wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t think twice about whether you’d get in trouble or not. God, you’re really turning into some kind of a Goody Two-shoes here. Working so hard. Following all the rules. Kissing up to Grace and all.” Lauren does wonder how Jenna was able to finagle this trip to the market, figures Jenna got the idea from overhearing Lauren talking to Ellie. Lauren is telling herself that she doesn’t care, simply needs to use it to her advantage.
Jenna rolls over onto her elbow, focuses back on her book.
“I don’t know why I’m even talking to you. Get out of my room.”
