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“THE BOYS ARE IN BED, Mrs. Monroe. There weren’t any problems tonight.”
Rachel Monroe removes her pearl earrings and sighs. It’s a content sound, like she absolutely needed that time away from her rambunctious children. She holds out some money. “Thank you, Penny. I’ll call you, okay?”
Taking the bills, Penny grabs her bag. All of a sudden, her books spill onto the floor. “Shoot!” Kneeling, she piles everything into the well-worn sack. The strap has broken, and not for the first time. “I’m sorry.”
Mrs. Monroe kneels next to her to help. “Goodness, no need to apologize. I think it’s time for a new bag, honey. Looks like this one’s seen its last days. When did you get this? Beginning of junior high?”
Penny ducks her head. Try grade school. “Something like that.” She looks at the bills in her hand. She never counts her money in front of her clients. Hopefully, there’s enough here for a new backpack. She hasn’t been able to afford food, let alone any sort of frivolous items like clothes. Her jeans are ragged at the bottoms, and they haven’t been fitting right since she lost a little weight. It wasn’t a ton, but enough that she’s seen a change in her clothing.
Of course, not having food will do that to a person.
I’ll just have to sew the strap back on.
Standing with her bag in her arms, she gives Mrs. Monroe a smile. “Thank you for helping. Call me if you need me.”
“Drive safely.” As Mrs. Monroe gives her a solemn look of pity, Penny lowers her gaze and quickly leaves.
Her windshield is covered in newly fallen snow. Blowing flakes from her eyelashes, she blinks. She can hardly see ten feet in front of her. As she starts to unlock her car door, her phone rings. Mommy Dearest. “Hello?”
“Penelope, where are you?”
Climbing into the driver’s seat, Penny mutters, “I just finished. I told you I’d be home by nine. It isn’t eight-thirty yet.”
“Don’t give me your damn sass! Since you took the car, you need to stop by the store and pick up a few things. And you better come home with a full tank of gas!”
Penny sighs. She’s had her license less than three months, and her mother takes advantage of it whenever she can. They only have the one car, and Penny uses it when she needs it. In her opinion, she’s entitled to it since she’s the only one working right now.
She opens her hand and winces. Mrs. Monroe gave her thirty dollars for five hours of work. She makes six-fifty an hour at the theater and doesn’t work nearly as hard as she does while babysitting.
Luckily, she just got gas yesterday.
Taking a piece of paper and a pen from her bag, she mutters, “What do we need?”
Her mother rattles off a list. As Penny writes the items down, she shakes her head. All of the money will be gone.
“Fine. I’ll stop by the dollar store on my way home.” Ending the call before her mother can add anything else, she checks her mirrors, flips the defrost on high, and squints through the precipitation rapidly covering her windshield.
As she turns onto the main thoroughfare, her tires slide. Her stomach lurches. She slows the vehicle and evens out the wheel. What was she thinking? It isn’t safe to drive in this crap.
Especially with bald tires.
By some weird twist of luck, she arrives at the dollar store near their house without crashing. It’s almost closing time. The clerk gives her a dirty look. Penny shrugs, gathering the things they need. Checking out quickly, she races to her car and stuffs the groceries in the trunk.
Slowly, she pulls out of the lot and onto the main highway. The roads are abandoned. The snow is falling faster. Her wipers are going a mile a minute. Everything is white.
She pushes her glasses up her nose as adrenaline pierces through her like an electric bolt. She can hardly see to stay inside the lines.
Please God, just get me home.
As she turns into her neighborhood, she breathes a sigh of relief. Fortunately, there aren’t many people stupid enough to drive in this. “Like me?” Finally, she makes it to her street, flicks her blinker, and turns the wheel.
Halfway into the turn, the car loses traction. She punches the brake. Hard. A loud screech and a pop follow. As her torso flies forward, her head smashes into the air bags.
And everything halts.