The Death of Jenny

It started slowly, her picture gone from his bedside table, less calls during the day, more late work nights.

She put those thoughts on hold and wandered through the empty house, the house that had once held so much life for her.

Every bit of his home held memories for her. The closet where he'd shoved his clothes over for her the first day she'd arrived. The bed where she'd spent countless nights feeling so safe.

Her slim bare feet padded across the floor, feeling carpet change to tile beneath her skin as she reached the kitchen.

Finger tips traced the granite counter top; a funny little girlish smile curved her pink lips...those naughty weekends.That smile faded fast as she dared to shy away, backing from it like she did the memory, letting it fade away.

Turning her back the sofa confronted her, a memory of books and lazy touches, then the laughter...his children watching a movie; she could almost smell the burned pop corn in the air, the aroma so real it burned her eyes.

The corduroy of the couch brushed at her fingers, heating them as she rubbed her hand this way and that. She paused, nibbling her bottom lip, feeling the bite of her own teeth sink into flesh. She could feel the time ticking down, getting closer and closer...

A loud honk made her jump, nearly catching the scream in her throat, somehow she made it to the door and opened it.

She stared, blinked, and stared more, the man blinked back, "Order a taxi miss?"

Forcing a nod, the words left her easily enough, "Yes, one minute."

"Uh, shall I take your bags in the mean time?"

His voice caused her to pause, she looked at his weathered face and bright eyes, "Oh..uh..good idea."

With a stride surer than before she found her way back into the bedroom, drawn to a certain spot like a magnet.

She stood standing at the foot of the bed, mind playing back images like a movie reel. Sex. Passion. Love. Joy. Laughter. She knew it was no longer her place anymore and suddenly she felt as though she was an intruder, breaking into the house of a stranger.

Her hand shook as she re-opened the drawer of his bedside table, drawing out the buried picture frame he'd stowed away but probably never forgotten.

Her brown eyes went to his first, shining blue, staring back at her with that smile, "I loved you.." she whispered, touching the cold glass, feeling that chill run up from the surface through her veins.

Then her eyes shifted to the woman in the photo. Nearly twice her age. Socially acceptable. Blond to her brunette. Wise to her novice. Educated against her street smarts. Everything she wasn't. Her smile broadened, widened to the point of pain.

She looked up at the cross just above the table and drew a tight breath, forcing the air from her lungs, 'take care of him...'

She put down the frame, adjusted its position and smoothed the comforter, walked around the bed, down the hall, and out the front door. Drawing out the key, its silver metal glinted in the cold spring light.

Her legs easily bent in half as she hid the key near a rock, the tip sticking out just enough for him to find it. Someday.

Looking up, her ears found the engine of the taxi already alive, no doubt the meter already running.

The deft heavy clasp of the door followed her as she got into the back, feeling the taxi swing from the curb.

"Going on a vacation?" The taxi driver cheerfully asked her.

Pulling her own away from the window, she warily met his eyes in his rear view mirror, "No...home."

"Oh," He answered awkwardly, that smile returning quickly, "Well, that's just as good."

From out of nowhere a smile worked its way up from somewhere inside her, "Yes..it is."

"And before I forget. Dispatch forgot to give me your name."

"Jenny--" She stopped, realizing there would be no one to call her that anymore, "Oh, uh, Jennifer. Jennifer Morgan."

"Alright, Ms. Morgan," He beamed at her, "You just sit back and relax now, we'll get you to the airport which will take you home in no time."

She felt it well up, the pain, the sadness, but its echo sounded empty inside her.

All she could do was curve her shoulders against the worn leather, tilting her bare neck to the sun. Cursing as one tear fell down her cheek, "Thank you."