Page 3 of Jessica's Hero
And I wonder, probably for at least the hundredth time,Why haven’t I moved?
Why am I still living in a town where I’m so clearly unwelcome?
But I know why.
I don’t want to be chased away.
I want to prove I’m not the same person I was at eighteen.
I want to save enough?—
But an industrial-strength sigh interrupts my thoughts.
Glancing up, I meet the cashier’s impatient expression, even though the person in front of me literallyjustleft the checkout line.
“Jessica.”Marilyn Dennings, the cashier and another woman I knew from high school, glares at me. “Would you mind hurrying up? We have aline, you know.”
“Sorry,” I reply automatically. “I didn’t realize?—”
Marilyn sighs again, this time loudly enough to attract the attention of the people around us. “You know,Jessica. There are delivery services. If you can’t handle the simple act of food shopping by yourself.”
It goes without saying, Marilyn isn’t my biggest fan.
My jaw clenches as I reply tightly, “It’s all here, Marilyn. I’m not holding anyone up.”
She stares at me for a few seconds, animosity dripping from her voice as she replies, “Just being here is a distraction. You know that. Why don’t you do your shopping in White Plains or Tarrytown instead?”
Tears of frustration press behind my eyes.
It’s been solong. Why won’t she let it go? Why won’t everyone let it go?
But I don’t say that. I never do. Old Jess would have snapped back at her. Would have put rude Marilyn in her place. That Jess wouldn’t have let anyone talk to her that way.
Now? It’s just easier to put my head down and get through it.
So I finish checking out as quickly as possible, taking over the bagging and practically flinging my groceries into the bags. The second I grab the receipt, I bolt for the exit, cheeks flaming and cursing myself for thinking things might actually be different.
By the time I’m back in the car, the radio set to my favorite folk music station, I feel slightly calmer again. More in control.
And really, I did what I came here for. I got through the shopping trip. Found everything on my list. And now I’m prepared for a quiet weekend of movies and baking and playing my favorite MMORPG,Tenebris Veil.
So what if Marilyn was a snotty jerk, just like she always is?
Who cares about that dumb lady in the dairy section?
I can tell myself that over and over, but it’s still hard to believe it.
On the way to my house on the east side of Sleepy Hollow, I let myself fall into the lyrics of Joni Mitchell and Emmylou Harris and John Denver, feeling the stress of my grocery trip dissolve the further I get from it. When I was younger, I loved pop and rock, but after coming back here to spend time with my mom, I found I preferred her favorites instead.
Now when I listen to them, it makes me feel closer to her. It makes me remember that she always,alwaysbelieved in me, even when no one else did.
By the time I pull into my driveway, I’m back to feeling optimistic again.
A quest tonight with myTenebris Veilfriends. A lazy morning tomorrow, followed by a day of baking. That new mystery movie on Netflix tomorrow night, the one I’ve been waiting to see for months. Coffee with lovely Nora on Sunday morning. Reality-TV-night with too much wine on Monday.
As I pull my grocery bags from the truck and sling them over my arm, I spot my neighbor sweeping—no, not shoveling,sweeping, which seems excessive—the fine dusting of snow from his driveway, and give him a little wave.
He waves back, calling out, “Hey, Jessica. TGIF, right?”
