Lucky Penny (2 page)

I nudged open the stiff door with my knee and stumbled into the apartment, immediately assaulted by the scent of grease and lavender. The walls seemed to absorb it from downstairs. I’d tried everything I could find to mask the grotesque smell. Lavender was the only thing that seemed to make it almost bearable, but I still spent as little time here as possible. If I hung around for too long, I ended up smelling like Chinese takeout on legs.

After collecting the pile of mail on the doormat, I heated some leftover lasagna, turned on the small television in the corner of the room, and made myself comfortable on the threadbare couch. My fork poked and prodded at the congealed pasta and meat, but I couldn’t bring myself to eat it. Between seeing Cal and having to face my boss, Tiffany, tomorrow, I had no appetite.

At the thought of work, my eyes drifted to the calendar pinned to the wall by the refrigerator. Sixteen black crosses stared back at me, which meant fourteen more days and then I was out of here for the whole summer.

No more egg rolls.

No more damp, flaky walls.

No more being kept up all night by drunk students.

I was trading my less-than-comfortable surroundings for even fewer home comforts. But I had been looking for this chance. My fresh start. An opportunity to do something with my life. It was only one summer, but one summer could change everything. I knew that better than anyone did.

Only this time, I hoped it would change my life for the better.

“Penny, there are rails to organize,” Tiffany, the owner-manager of Vrai Beauté, barked disapprovingly. “You’ve been very distracted this week.”

I moved toward the rack of dresses and started reordering them with trembling hands, scanning the shop to make sure it was empty. Tiffany didn’t like chitchat when there were customers. The nerves somersaulted in my stomach again, but I inhaled deeply and recited my mantra.
You can do this.

“Actually… there’s, hmm, there’s something I need to discuss with you.”

She glanced up from the counter and arched her eyebrow with a look that said ‘what could you possibly have to discuss with me.’ “Yes?”

I opened my mouth and spluttered my words. Irritated, Tiffany said, “Well, don’t just stand there. Out with it, Penny.”

“Well, I applied to work at a camp for the summer. Camp Chance out in Hocking Hills. They offered me a position, and I’ll be gone for eleven weeks.”

When I’d spotted the ad for summer work at Camp Chance, a camp for fostered teenagers situated in Hocking Hills State Park, I had applied with no expectations. With no experience working with kids and only a couple of childhood camping trips on my resume, I didn’t expect to make it past the paper application. But in less than two weeks, I would be packing my bags and leaving for the summer.

“Aren’t you a little old for camp?” Tiffany replied running her eyes up and down my body as if she was mentally assessing my age. “And eleven weeks? I’m not sure I can hold your job here for that long, Penny, if that’s what you’re asking.”

My shoulders sagged slightly. Of course, she couldn’t just congratulate me or show any interest in my news. It was exactly the reason I’d put off telling her until now.

“If you can’t hold it, I understand.” I gulped down the disappointment swimming in my stomach.

Tiffany pursed her lips into a thin line and looked like she might say something else, but obviously thought better of it as she dropped her eyes and continued checking over price tags.

It was silly really. Tiffany wasn’t someone I’d developed a friendship with—I didn’t develop friendships with anyone—and she only spoke to me when the job required it. I think she only hired me because she had felt sorry for me the day I interviewed for the job. I’d missed the bus and had to walk five blocks in the heavy rain. By the time I arrived, water was running off me like a river, but I’d insisted on continuing with the interview. I needed a job, and I didn’t like to rely on second chances.

The doorbell chimed, and I glanced up to watch a group of girls enter the store. They were laughing about something, and I immediately busied myself with the rail trying to ignore them. Over the last year, it had gotten easier. My job at Vrai Beauté was my first customer service position, all part of the heal Penny plan.
You need to be around people more, you need to learn to live again,
the therapist had repeatedly told me. He didn’t count my previous job at the university’s library working in the storeroom or the job before that where I worked in the kitchen of a busy hotel. I guess he had a point. I liked to stay hidden in the background. The spotlight was a place for perfectly primped girls like the ones currently cooing over the lingerie section at the back of the store.

“Excuse me, Miss.”

I inhaled deeply and turned around, plastering on my best fake smile. “How can I help you?”

“Do you have this in a four? There’s only sixes and eights on the rack.” She smiled back, and it seemed genuine. Not like some of the customers who came from all over the Columbus area to get their hands on the latest fashion trends stocked by Vrai Beauté.

I snatched the silky material out the girl’s hands and answered a little too abruptly. “I’ll go check for you.”

Tiffany shot me a questioning look as I hurried past the counter and into the back. I was restless about going to Camp Chance next month. Excitement laced with terror, and my head was an exhausting place to be. It would mean living in close quarters with the other counselors and getting to know them. People like the ones in the front right now. The last time I’d been around a group of people was five years ago in foster care. The day I walked out of the Freeman group home in Lancaster was the day I became truly alone. With the exception of Bryan, Michael, and most recently, Cal, I’d been alone ever since. I rarely made friends, not ones that stuck anyway. But my therapist was right. It was time to move forward and to let myself heal.

It was time to step out of the shadows and live.

O
n my last shift at Vrai Beauté, Tiffany barely managed to wish me luck, but much to my surprise, her parting words were that she would try to hold my job open. Kylie, one of the part-timers, was willing to pick up my shifts over the summer until she started back at school in the fall. It was better than nothing. I couldn’t find it in me to be relieved I still had a job, not with how preoccupied my mind was. An endless stream of questions plagued my thoughts. What would the other counselors be like? Would I survive the five days of intense training? Or would I be packing my bags before I had them unpacked?

The bus out to Hocking Hills was quiet, just me and a handful of campers taking the sixty-mile journey out of town. When we passed through Lancaster, my blood ran cold. Five years later and my fresh start had led me right past the one place I wanted to erase from my mind. I closed my eyes, turned up the volume on my iPod, and let the music force out the unwanted thoughts.

It wasn’t until the bus came to a halt that I dared to open my eyes again. The campers exited the vehicle with their laden rucksacks and headed toward the visitor’s center.

“Next stop is yours, little lady,” a gruff voice sounded from the driver’s chair.

I nodded up at the rearview mirror but didn’t reply as the engine rumbled to life, and we started moving further within the thick forest. The road cut through the dense green wall as trees swayed gently in the breeze. It was peaceful. Calm. Somewhere I could imagine spending time, despite having never visited this part of Ohio before.

After ten minutes, a crooked hand-painted sign welcomed us to Camp Chance, and the woods expanded into a clearing. A large wooden cabin stood proudly in the center with smaller cabins arranged off to the side. The driver parked in a dirt parking lot and opened the door. “This is you.”

“Thanks,” I murmured as he offered his hand to help me off the bus.

Clutching my bag tighter, I made no attempt to accept his courtesy... or touch. I silently scolded myself. Shrinks had been telling me for the last four years to face my fears. Baby steps, they’d all said. A graze or two of a pinky, shaking hands, holding hands, hugging, kissing. The cognitive behavioral therapist I spent six months visiting last year told me to focus on the person I was with at that moment, to hold onto the reality that their touch was not
his
. Easy for them to say sitting in the confines of their sterile offices. In practice, it wasn’t that easy, and while I didn’t intend to let the driver pucker up to me, I knew I should have accepted his offer of help. But my past had conditioned me to fear touch. To abhor being touched.

If the driver was offended, he didn’t show it as he retrieved my other bag from the luggage hold and placed it on the sidewalk.

“I’ll be seeing you.”

“Bye.”

He climbed back into the bus and pulled out of the lot, and I was once again alone.

My feet wouldn’t move. I don’t know how long I stood there glued to the sidewalk. A few people came and went from the central cabin, but no one noticed me. I was relieved. I needed more time to psych myself. The rational part of me knew this wasn't the Freeman group home. There were no Dereks or Maries here. This place helped and nurtured teenagers who lived in foster care. To give them the kind of chance I never had.

Nothing will happen here.

But the little voice of doubt that kept me shackled to my past refused to stay quiet.

“Hey, are you here for the staff training?” A tall, slim girl joined me dropping her rucksack down at her feet. “I'm Marissa.”

I turned slightly to face her, stepping back instinctively to put a little more space between us. “Hi, I'm Penny, and yes, I'm here for the summer.”

“Me too. Counselor or activity instructor?”

“Counselor.”

Marissa smiled at me knowingly. “Nice. First year, I take it?”

I glanced around. Was it that obvious? Of course, it was. I nodded, and she laughed. “Don't look so worried. You're in for one hell of a summer. I hope you brought insect repellent. The bugs out here take no prisoners.”

“I brought everything on the list,” I replied, nervous energy vibrating through me.

“Shall we head inside? Troy and Tina will be waiting.”

I nodded, following Marissa’s lead as she moved toward the buildings. She wasted no time going inside, but I paused to give myself a few seconds to calm my erratic pulse.

“There she is. Get over here, Marissa. It’s been too long,” a male voice called.

I stepped inside to find a tall man with a fuzzy beard and a red bandana tied around his head smiling in our direction. Marissa was a few steps in front of me and jogged into the man’s open arms. “Troy, what in hell’s name has Tina been feeding you? You look like you gained twenty pounds.”

“Not you as well.” He laughed drawing Marissa into a bear hug.

“I told him to take it easy after his operation, but did he listen?” a woman called over from a table which was pushed against the wall.

“I listened.” The man I’d deduced was Troy released Marissa and stepped back shooting the woman—Tina—a goofy smile. She rolled her eyes with a smirk that caused her cheeks to dimple. “You did not. Wait until the regular kids show up. They’ll remind you every day.”