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“Leave!” Mama J shouted. “Leave right now, you horrible girl!”
She grabbed the tray of food and threw it at Jane. It struck her in the chest, and chicken, potatoes, and gravy splattered across her chest and face. Jane winced and picked up the tray from the floor as Tanya hurried into the room and stopped Mama J from getting out of her chair.
“It’s okay, Josephine,” she said. “Just relax.”
“Tell her to leave!” Mama J shouted. “Right now!”
“Okay, I’ll go.” Jane stood and grabbed her purse before hurrying out of the room. She used the washroom, wiping the gravy and food from the front of her t-shirt and silently thanking God that she had gone home and changed out of her work clothes before visiting.
When she emerged from the bathroom, Tanya gave her a sympathetic look. “You okay?”
“Yes. Is Mama J okay?”
“She settled down. I’ll get a new tray of food brought up for her.”
“Okay, thanks,” Jane said. “Maybe I’ll sit in the common room for a while and see if she’s feeling better later.”
“Jane,” Tanya said, “go home. It’s been a bad day for Josephine, and I don’t think she will remember you tonight. Go home and get some rest – you look terrible.”
Jane nodded as her stomach growled loudly. “Yeah, okay. I left her new pajamas on the bed.”
Tanya nodded, and Jane smiled gratefully at her before leaving the care home. The bus stop was two blocks away, and she walked quickly, hunching her face into her jacket collar. She glanced at her watch as she waited for the bus. She should have been working tonight, but as further punishment for being late last night, Jeremy texted her this afternoon and told her they didn’t need her to work. Thursday night was her best tip night, and although she knew she needed the sleep, she needed the extra money more. She sighed as the bus pulled up in front of her. There wasn’t anything she could do about it except hope that Mr. Dawson didn’t need her to work late next week, too.
* * *
“You’re kidding me,” Jane groaned when she walked into her apartment an hour later. She flicked the light switch back and forth again. Her apartment was as cold as a crypt, and they had cut off her electricity. Using her phone’s flashlight, she hurried down the hallway. She pushed the heat to high, but there was no familiar rattling as the heat started. Great. They’d cut off her heat, too.
Not that it matters. It barely worked, anyway.
That was true, but she was a little shocked by how cold it was in her apartment without any heat at all. Using the light on her phone, she changed into thick socks and her flannel pajamas and wrapped the blanket from her bed around her body. She rummaged in a drawer and found some matches to light the candle on the table. The sweet smell of apple pie filled the air, and her stomach growled loudly in response. God, why had she bought the apple pie scented candle? Was she deliberately trying to torture herself?
Using the last of the bread, she made herself a peanut butter sandwich in the near darkness and ate it slowly. She had loved peanut butter for her entire life, but when she could afford groceries again, she’d never eat peanut butter again. She had one orange left, and she stared for a while at it, debating whether to eat it now or save it for tomorrow.
Save it. You have seven dollars left to last until Monday night when you get your tips from the club and nothing but a jar of peanut butter and that orange to eat.
I’m still hungry.
You had a big lunch.
That was very true. Of course, eating a big meal had only seemed to make her even hungrier. After another internal debate, she snatched up the orange and peeled it with shaky hands. She ate it slowly and then ate a few tablespoons of peanut butter before drinking a glass of water. Maybe Mr. Dawson would buy her lunch again tomorrow. If he did, she would only eat half of it and take the rest home to eat over the weekend.
She could see her breath, and the cold was seeping through her pajamas and blanket. Her head aching and her limbs shaking from the cold, she put on her jacket before climbing into bed and pulling the covers over her head. She was so tired she wanted to cry, but she staved it off grimly. She would catch up on her sleep and feel much better tomorrow.
* * *
“Jane? Are you feeling okay?”
Jane stared blearily at Amy standing in front of her desk. “Hi, Amy. Yes, I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? You’re very pale,” Amy said.
“I’m good. How are you?”
“Fine.” Amy shifted the juice bottle she was holding to her other hand before studying her closely. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, thanks. Mr. Dawson is in his office.”
“Thanks.” Amy gave her one last look of concern before disappearing into Luke’s office.
