By sbrooks103x, inspired by Jenny Maitland in "Faithful" by Todd172, with permission.
Thanks to Todd172 for his permission to tell Jenny's story and his advice, Crkcppr for Beta reading, and, as always, blackrandl1958 for her sweet inspiration and editing.
As I stepped of the bus clutching my bag holding all my worldly possessions, such as they were, I looked forlornly around. In one way, it had hardly changed at all; in other ways it was completely different, or maybe that was me.
I was too embarrassed to go home or to look up my old friends. I had left with such high hopes; dreaming of one day returning home proudly, the big success, maybe even a star!
Instead, I was damaged goods, ashamed of what I had done, who I was. I was sure that anyone who looked at me would know that my very face screamed, "Slut!"
I didn't want to go anywhere where they might ask too many questions or that I might be recognized, or run into anyone that I might know. As I wandered down Main Street, I passed Mrs. Strickland's boarding house and saw the hand-lettered sign in the window: "Help Wanted, Apply Within, Room and Board Included!" That sounded perfect! Living and working at the same place meant that I wouldn't be out in public much, and most pf the clientele were transients, unlikely to know me or anyone that I knew.
Gathering my courage, I walked in and asked for Mrs. Strickland, praying that she wouldn't recognize me. Mrs. Strickland came into the front room, eyed me up and down warily, but didn't say anything.
"I'll expect you to help me out in the kitchen," she said, "serve the boarders, clear the table and do the dishes. You may need to help the maids out on occasion. You'll get a room, three meals a day along with a small stipend. It's not much, but it's good, honest work. Do you still want the job?"
"Yes, yes I do," I said, "To be honest I don't have much choice."
"All right," she said, "You're hired as long as you do your job. Now what do we call you?"
I hadn't given that any thought. I certainly didn't want to use my real name! "It's Jane," I blurted out, "Jane Connelly."
"All right 'Jane Connelly,' let's get you situated.
With that, I began my new life, certainly not the glamorous life I had imagined when I had left town, but it was good decent work that allowed me to keep my self-respect.
One problem I did have was that my experiences in Chicago had left me very wary of men, and the vast majority of Mrs. Strickland's boarders were men. I kept to myself as much as I could, never giving off the little flirtatious looks that used to come so naturally to me. I never wore make up, dressed very plainly and just let my hair fall straight down with no effort to do it up at all.
I rarely spoke to anyone, especially the men, beyond what was required for my job, and I cringed if anyone so much as touched me.
After I had been working for Mrs. Strickland for about a year, my whole world nearly came crashing down around me, when who should come walking in the front door but Mark Simpson. Mark and I had gone to school together. We never dated, we weren't even really friends, but we did know each other, and I was scared to death that he would recognize me as he looked at me curiously. When Mrs. Strickland introduced me as Jane, he just stared for a moment, then shook his head as if to clear it and went about his business.
Over the next few months, I would still catch him giving me funny looks, but he never let on that he knew me. He still made me so nervous that when he was reaching for a roll one day and brushed my hand, I ran from the room in tears.
Things settled down for a few months until Mark came in with another young man who I recognized from high school, John Lee. John, like Mark, had never been any sort of a boyfriend, though we did chat occasionally.
I saw Mark and John whispering while looking at me and I thought, "Oh, my God, they know who I am," and nearly panicked!
I decided that I had to do my job, but when I was serving John a piece of cake he said, "Jenny?" and I almost dropped the cake on his lap!
I jumped back, staring at him, and didn't answer him at all.
He pretended as if he hadn't noticed my reaction and said, "It's nice to see you Jenny. Been a long time since school."
I couldn't stop shaking, I felt like someone had stepped on my grave and watched John carefully. "J-John? It... it's been a while. Are... are you back?"
"Just got back from the Navy," he said. "I'll be looking for a farm to buy. I miss planting."
"That's... nice," I said and ran from the room.
From that day on, John would talk quietly to me, telling me tales of the wonders he had seen. I was thrilled by his stories, except when he would talk about the crowded Asian cities. This always brought back memories of Chicago.
He was always gentle with me, never pushing too hard, as you would with a stray cat or dog you were trying to help. He was gradually chipping away at my protective shell and occasionally I would start talking to him before he spoke to me.
John seemed to be getting a little frustrated with how withdrawn I was, and one day when it was just the two of us, he pulled a pretty ribbon from his pocket, it looked like something that he would have gotten in Japan or China.
"Jenny?" he said.
I was still wary of men, but I was beginning to trust him and said, "John?"
He held the ribbon up and said, "It's not much, but I can't help thinking this would go better in your hair than in the bottom of my sea bag."
I looked at the ribbon. It was so pretty; it reminded me of my days before I went to Chicago when I had always had pretty things.
Just as I started reaching out my hand for it John said, "It's from Hong Kong..."
I don't know why, maybe the mention of Hong Kong reminded me of my time in the city, but I panicked and ran for the kitchen.
All the other times that I had run off, John left me alone, but for some reason this time he followed me.
I was trying to hide in a far corner of the kitchen, trying to hold in sobs that fought their way out in shuddering gasps, forcing their way through clenched teeth. My eyes were closed and leaking tears.
He knelt a few feet away from me, and said, "Jenny," so softly that I could hardly hear him.
I looked all around like a scared rabbit, then locked eyes with him.
"Whatever it is," John said, "whatever happened... Jenny, I'm not it."
