A Penny's Worth (3 page)

Looking at Penny with a smirk, Aunt Bess
said, “I was a teacher once remember? I know all the holidays.”

She smiled as she watched her aunt drop
into her couch. She was so delighted to see her.

“It smells like cat shit in here.”

Laughing, Penny asked, “Tea?”

“Yup, so what’s been shaking with you? I
hear you’re giving your Mom a hard time. Good for you. I was wondering when you
would rebel. You’re only about 25 years too late, but what the hell.”

Whirling around midway to the kitchen,
Penny looked at Aunt Bess in astonishment. “Are you sticking up for me?”

“I’ve always stuck up for you since the
day you were born.”

She walked back and sat down opposite
her. “Something weird is happening to me.”

“Weird can be good, go on.”

Leaning her elbows on her thighs, Penny
put her chin in her hands. “I don’t want to be on the sidelines watching everyone
else have a life.” Tears formed in her eyes. “I want friends, Aunt Bess. I want
to fall in love, I want a backyard to put mulch in, and I want a job that makes
me feel good about myself.”

“So, what’s stopping you?” She waved her
hands in the air. “Get up off your ass and do something about it.”

“It’s not that easy. I even tried to have
a holiday get-together last year. I’m sure my mother filled you in.”

Penny remembered every detail of that
humiliating event. She had invited three neighbors over for a holiday cocktail
party and they had all turned her down in quick succession.

“You need to try harder to make friends,”
an exasperated Dolores had told her. “I feel like you’re still four. For God’s
sake, doesn’t anything change? I had to push you toward the kids in the
playground when you were little. Stop being so shy. That’s why people don’t
gravitate to you.”

As she relayed this exchange to her aunt,
Penny still felt the awful and familiar sting of her mother’s words. They
always felt the same; like a hundred angry bees stinging her all at once.

At the time, Penny had inwardly winced.
She’d retorted that she did have friends, two to be exact. Dolores had gleefully
pointed out in painstaking detail how friendless she really was.

“You haven’t seen these girls for years,
Christmas cards don’t count,” Dolores had scoffed. “So scratch them off your
buddy list.” Dolores had looked at Penny with pity in her eyes and announced
that childhood friends move on, and so the hell should you.

After sharing this last bit of the
exchange with Aunt Bess, Penny heaved a sigh of despair. “You see what I have
to contend with?”

Sitting back, Aunt Bess folded her hands
in her lap. “When was the last time you had sex?”

“What?” Penny asked, leaping to her feet.

“You heard me, when was it?”

She glared at the floor. “It’s been so
long, I can’t even remember.”

“Well hell, that’s part of your problem,
get out there and strut your stuff.” She pointed to Penny’s chest. “Show your
boobs for God’s sake. You have nice boobs and you always have them stored away
under those stupid high shirts you wear.”

“I can’t believe this.” Her eyes were
wide in astonishment.

“Oh come on Penny, you have to live life
to have a life. Stop whining and move forward. You’re the one who chooses to
deal with your Mother. No-one’s forcing you.”

She shook her head slowly. “You don’t
understand.” She paused as a shadow crossed her face. “Sometimes I don’t even
know if my Mother loves me.”

“At this stage of your life who cares? I
don’t even think Dolores knows if she loves herself, but that’s not your
problem, it’s hers.” She jabbed a finger in Penny’s direction. “Don’t give her
any more of your air space. It’s time to move along.”

As Penny’s brain registered Aunt Bess’
wisdom, all she could do was stand there and blink.

“So where’s my tea?”

She fell asleep early that evening and woke up
depressed. Clambering laboriously out of bed, she hobbled into the bathroom and
turned on the shower. I feel like shit, she thought as she stepped gingerly
into the cold spray of water.

She tried to shake away the cobwebs still
sticking to her brain. The water splashed off her face as she recounted all the
things her Aunt had said to her the night before. She thought about what it was
she really wanted to do. The answer remained annoyingly elusive.

After the quick, cold shower, she got
ready for work. With a deep sigh, she pulled her hair back with a barrette and
felt ready to face the day.

Just one problem though: the day wasn’t
ready to face her. Just as she got into her car, huge raindrops started to spatter
against the windscreen. In the damp grey haze, the traffic was soon bumper to
bumper.

Arriving at work late, a loud siren
jarred her as if someone was smashing cymbals an inch from her ear. Mr Adams,
the dour-faced principal, was standing by the main doors holding a big black
umbrella. He hollered, “Fire drill, everyone out.”

Oh great, Penny thought, some jerk in the
office decided to hold a fire drill in a rainstorm, just brilliant.

Standing in the pouring rain with no
umbrella, as she waited for the front doors to open, a third grader, Joseph
Simms sidled up next to her.

“Miss Marins, I don’t feel so well.”

Engrossed in watching for the doors to
open, she barely paid any attention to him. “What?” she asked, struggling to
pull her sopping wet hair back into the barrette.

“I said, I don’t feel well, my stomach
hurts.”

Penny realized she needed to lean down to
soothe Joseph the moment Joseph realized he needed to lean down and puke all
over her wet black pumps.

It was an odd moment of calm. She looked
down in abstract fascination as the rainwater carved little channels through
the vomit on her shoes. The realization dawned on her that it was finally time
to look for a new job. Looking over at Mr Adams, she observed him yawning
loudly. He scratched his head. One of the first grade teachers walked by,
barely acknowledging her presence. The decision to look for employment came to
Penny as clear as a lake on a crisp spring day.

Yes, I have to leave here, she told
herself firmly. There is no reason to stay anymore. It’s time to get a move on.

Penny arrived home after work feeling restless and
lonely. Against her better judgment she decided to visit her parents.

The scent of fall was in the air and
Penny could not help thinking that the holiday season was just around the
corner. Christmas reminded her of all the things she didn’t have in her life.
When she saw the sappy commercials with the dewy eyed children dressed in their
holiday splendor, she felt a pang of emptiness. She had no-one to dress up and
make a fuss over.

With that dismal thought she leashed up
Winston, and stepped back outside. Before she left the apartment she looked down
at Winston and said, “I could put you two in holiday outfits.” That thought
made her all the more depressed.

“Come on, let’s go visit grandma.”
Scooping up the little pooch, she looked down at Bob and said, “Bob, we’ll have
our special time later, you know that. If you make in the house tonight, I will
put you in a crate from here on end.”

She arrived at her mother’s house. At
first it seemed that no-one was home; then she noticed her brother Louis’ Mercedes
parked in the driveway. Usually, Penny’s parents had every light on throughout
the whole downstairs of the house. They were obsessed with lights, to the point
where someone could easily land a small plane in the driveway. But on this
night only the kitchen and front porch lights were lit.

The door flew open, startling her. There
stood her mother.

“I have a goddamn partial blackout can
you believe?” Dolores announced, distinctly agitated as she impatiently motioned
Penny to come in. “I hate when this stuff happens. I called Con Ed and they
told me they couldn’t take care of this for hours. What kind of business are
they running anyway?”

“Can’t think of a worse family for this
to happen to. You usually have the house lit up like a Christmas tree.” She
walked inside.

“Don’t be such a smart ass,” Dolores
retorted. “I’ve never been robbed, not even once since we’ve lived here and all
the lights are the reason. Even your father thinks so.”

Penny didn’t want to tell her mother that
Ron agreed with everything she said just to have peace in his life. Instead she
went with: “Whatever you say.” She was in no mood to get into a debate with her
mother.

Dolores was small and wiry with shoulder
length chestnut brown hair and dark darting eyes that never missed a thing. She
did not stay still for a moment. When Penny was small she liked to go into her
bedroom and watch her sleep. She was always fascinated at how still her mother
was capable of being. Penny would bend down to listen to Dolores’ chest to make
sure she was breathing. While awake, Dolores never sat still, chain smoked and
ate very little.

Penny sighed. Louis and his wife Amber
were huddled around the kitchen table.

Their six-year old twin sons Paul and
Alex were sitting on the floor drawing on a big piece of cardboard. She looked
down at their drawing and saw two dynamically etched fire engines in red
crayon. Remembering the fire drill she had to endure earlier that day, she
looked away without proferring her usual compliments. She’d had enough of fire
engines to last her for the duration of the week.

She greeted her nephews with a smile. “Hi
guys, I’m so glad you’re here. How’s everything?”

Without looking up they both chorused,
“Fine, hi Winston.” I can tell they really missed me, she thought as she
watched Winston greet the boys with a big wag of his tail.

Dolores stood by the refrigerator and
motioned with her hand to the contents. “Want something to eat?”

“Looks like slim pickings as usual.”

“You’re all out of the house, so why
should I cook?” Dolores quipped. “Takeout, and going out, is my motto these
days.”

Louis piped in dryly, “Yeah, but we still
visit, mom, and you do have grandchildren.”

“Takeout and going out was always your
style mom,” Penny said with a laugh. “I’m not hungry anyway.”

“Suit yourself.”

“Louis, get Alex a Gatorade,” Amber
addressed her husband sharply. “He’s asked you three times already. Don’t you
have ears?”

Quickly standing up, Louis did his wife’s
bidding. “So,” he said over his shoulder, “how’s life treating my little sister?”

“It’s treating me okay,” Penny answered
with a shrug. She didn’t think about what she said next. She just blurted it
out: “But I’ve decided I’m going to look for a new job.”

The room hadn’t changed physically, but
she know there was a sudden change in the air, a rearrangement as if someone
shook all the pieces inside a chess box.

“Why would you want to go and do that?”
Dolores snapped. “You’re in good shape where you are. It’s such an easy job.”
Dolores took a quick drag of her cigarette and inhaled deeply. “All you have to
do is push a thermometer in a kid’s mouth every now and then.”

Penny could have kicked her own big mouth
if it was physically possible. She knew she had made a huge mistake with her
declaration, and the aftermath was building up around her.

“Do you think that’s all I do?” she
asked. “My job entails much more than just taking some kid’s temperature.”

Standing her ground, Dolores put her
hands on her hips. “But let’s face it, you’re not dealing with terminally ill patients
here. Most of the time you take care of scraped knees and sore throats.”

Anger gripped her by the ears. She wanted
to hurl Alex’s big box of crayons at her mother’s head. She heard her voice
rise as she defended herself. “You don’t know anything about my work. You’ve
never even come for a visit. I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and
maybe it would be better to work in a hospital. I could meet different people
and have more of a social life. I could help people. I think it’s a good idea.”

Louis piped in, “You’ll screw up your
retirement and pension.”

“God Lou, I’m thirty eight years old.”
She smacked her forehead. “Do I need to think about that now?”

Dolores swooped in with a counter: “You’d
be making a big mistake, I’m telling you. Working in a hospital means bedpans,
puke, and real sickness. It’s much cleaner where you are.”

“Believe me, I’m used to puke.”

Snippy Amber slid in: “I know where
you’re coming from Penny. A lot of good-looking doctors are walking those hospital
corridors. Out with it, that’s the real agenda isn’t it?”

Her conscious mind had switched off. The
words just flew out of her mouth. “You know what Amber? I think you should have
gotten Alex the Gatorade yourself instead of ordering my brother to do it.”

Everyone looked at Penny: wide eyes, jaws
creaking open; momentary silence. Alex and Paul had dropped their crayons. They
looked questioningly up at their aunt. Penny felt her face flush with heat.