Sixes & Sevens (Seven Hearts Book 1) (3 page)

Jaycee was glad to be rid of the pink bedroom she’d been given. She didn’t dislike pink as a color, but this particular shade looked too much like constipation medication. The room had dainty white furniture and matching white curtains. Seeing as her room was on the second floor, they had never worried about her sneaking out through her window. They should have, as she had occasionally used the tree just outside it to hide out in. It wasn’t her favorite option, in fact it was her
last
resort, as she was afraid of heights. Jaycee had pushed down her terror when the need arose, and kept a death grip on the branches—while attempting not to look straight down. It helped that her frame and height were small. She was able to climb higher onto the tree branches, where they couldn’t see her through the windows.

One extra bag was all she would take of her belongings. In it she would pack her pillow and bedspread, towel, and a set of sheets. The rest of her toiletries were already packed in her larger suitcase. She had managed to cram two weeks’ worth of clothes, her journal, a couple of books, her winter coat, three pairs of shoes, and some school supplies. Though she had needed to sit on it to get the zipper closed. Everything else she would need would have to be purchased later. Her roommate, Sara Whiteman, had indicated she would be bringing most of the vital items anyway: the microwave, mini-fridge, chair, cookware etc., and of course, a computer. The room itself was equipped with two bunk beds, an oversized desk to share, dressers, and closets for both girls. The bathrooms were communal to each floor, so she wouldn’t need any supplies to outfit it. Both a blessing and a curse. Communal bathrooms meant cold showers and inquisitive neighbors, but it also meant less time cleaning, and no need to purchase shower curtains and soap dispensers.

It had been a struggle trying to communicate with Sara on the down low. Jaycee had taken to using the library computers at college. Being a foster kid, no one had wanted to buy her a laptop, and not being allowed a job, she couldn’t afford to get her own. Just to get to college, she had to take public transit. It had been months since she started squirreling away her food money, to save for bus fare to UEM. Meanwhile eating peanut butter sandwiches for lunch, which she had to prepare in secret.

Surprised no one had commented on her choice of bag for an overnight stay, Jaycee hoped no one attempted to lift it. While she had figured she’d gotten away with such a large bag because she only had two- the other was a smaller-sized duffle—she knew if anyone lifted it they’d realize it carried much more than she would need for a single night away. She had learned as a kid-who often needed to put her whole world in a trash bag—to use plastic bags to seal the air out of her fabrics and get much more in a tiny space. That was how she planned on fitting her orange comforter into her smaller duffle, and still manage room for more.

The next morning at ten, it was time for the family’s late Saturday morning breakfast. Heading downstairs, Jaycee veered off to the left toward the kitchen. Maggie, Ted, and Roger were already seated at the light pine kitchen table. Ducking her head down was an instinctual unconscious move to hide her entrance, but it didn’t do her any good.

“So glad you finally decided to join us, Jaycee!” Maggie exclaimed with a forced smile. “We were just discussing our trip to Grandma’s. Now I know you have that dreadful college tour scheduled…I really wish you’d change your mind, and stick close to home. After all, we’re your family, and family should stick together. Who am I going to take with me when I get my hair done? I won’t have anyone to help me pick out my dress for the festival this spring. I guess you’ll just have to come home every weekend!”

Jaycee tried to keep her expression neutral. “But I—” she started.

“Listen to your mother,” Ted interrupted, as Jaycee smothered an outward wince. “You really should stay close to home, it’s not a safe world out there, and it’s going to be much harder to live on your own than you think. You might change your mind after a week in the real world.” Ted sipped his coffee, looking smug.

“Wouldn’t that be wonderful!” Maggie exclaimed, “Then we’d just need Roger to graduate college, and the whole family could be together again!” Roger kept shoveling eggs into his mouth, not giving his mother the time of day.

“I won’t really be that far…” Jaycee started.

“I know I said you could go, but wouldn’t you rather stay? I had so many projects planned for us, why if you would just switch your major to business, like I suggested, we could start a boutique together!” Maggie argued passionately.

“Speaking of…Grandma’s…when will you be leaving?” Jaycee’s question was an obvious ploy to change the subject.

“We’re leaving first thing in the morning, as you well know. We’re expecting you to be on your best behavior while we’re gone. Don’t have anyone over to the house. Don’t leave campus after your tour, except to go straight to your hotel room.” Ted wagged his finger in her face as he continued. “And stay there till it’s time to come home.” Ted’s warning was completely unfounded, you needed to actually know someone before you could invite a friend over, and Jaycee had never been one to go off exploring the town after a campus tour.

“I promise I won’t. I’ll just work on getting a jump-start on my reading for next semester, and then go straight to the campus tour, and straight home the following morning, I promise,” Jaycee said, childishly crossing her fingers under the table. It was so hard to tell lies with a straight face. She wasn’t a good liar. Luckily Ted and Maggie weren’t the best at picking up on other people’s thoughts and feelings. For once, that quality worked in her favor. A quick glance at Roger assured her he wasn’t paying any of them the slightest bit of attention. He appeared to have some kind of magazine in his lap that he kept eyeing as he ate. Jaycee, smothering a disgusted shiver, wisely decided not to investigate that any further.

Seemingly satisfied with his laying down of the law, Ted finished his breakfast, and piled his dishes in the sink. Kissing Maggie’s cheek as he passed, he headed off to the office. Ted worked for an accounting firm. As the low man on the totem pole, he often got called in to work nonbusiness hours. Feeling the heavy weight of a stare, Jaycee looked up to find Maggie still watching her.

“You really should think about staying closer to home. I had so much fun during our last luncheon, and Kathleen has been dying to bring her daughter Chandra when we have coffee on Wednesdays…,” Maggie prattled on, but Jaycee tuned her out. Clearly her input was not required for this monologue…uh…conversation. She would wait them out, finish her breakfast, and do the dishes. Jaycee was always stuck with the dishes. Another “home” that treated her like Cinderella…

January 3, 2016

Sunday morning Jaycee woke up tired. She hadn’t slept but a couple of hours. Most of the night she had spent tossing and turning, replaying every scenario in her head. What could go wrong, what she needed to do and when. Her stomach was a mass of collywobbles, and she wasn’t sure she could stomach a greasy breakfast with the Smythes. For just a moment, she imagined hiding in her tree till they left, but it was an unrealistic thought. They wouldn’t leave until they said good-bye, and reviewed the rules another time or two for good measure. She needed to engage them, to be calm and normal… very, very normal. She threw on a white robe over her pink flannel pajamas—yes, pink—there was definitely a theme, and not one of her choosing. She forced herself to go slowly down the steps, not to race ahead out of nervousness.

Jaycee’s heart felt like it was beating out of her chest as she walked into the kitchen and sat down. Across from Roger in her usual chair. The rectangular table was already set with yellow pastel china and gleaming silverware, but the food was still on the stove. Maggie stirred the runny eggs and added cheese, to Jaycee’s utter dismay. She was not a fan of cheesy eggs; yet she couldn’t bring herself to complain. Maggie only did the cooking on the weekends. She would swallow them, and be grateful like she always had. Bacon was most likely hiding in the microwave, along with hash browns from a bag. The standard Smythe breakfast.

No one could cook hash browns like Jaycee’s father had. Slightly greasy, with a crispy top, deliciously soft center, shredded by hand, and cooked to perfection…a sad wobbly smile battled for control, as she fought to keep a neutral expression. It had been so long since she’d had a really great meal cooked for her. Maggie attempted to cook, but most of her meals were somehow premade, or prepared, and fell vastly short of the image on the box. The homes Jaycee had stayed at had made the foster kids do all the cooking and the chores. Which often resulted in undercooked or burnt meals. (Here she at least received a reprieve from cooking on the weekends.) Jaycee had learned to love peanut butter: It was easy to hide in her room to eat later, and lasted a lifetime before it would mold.

Ted came down the stairs, kissed Maggie’s leathery cheek and ruffled Roger’s sandy hair—colored just like his own—before giving Jaycee an appraising look.

“Good morning,” he spoke gruffly.

“Good morning…,” Jaycee muttered.

“Good morning, dear!” Maggie chorused.

“Uhm…,” Roger mumbled, as he continued to peck away at his phone. Occasionally stealing glances at Jaycee’s chest, when he thought no one was looking. She wasn’t wearing a bra under her pajama top, a critical error she wished she had time to correct.

With a frown on his face, Ted sat down to read the Sunday morning paper. Jaycee had been aware she was expected to be dressed for breakfast, but she had also recognized there wasn’t enough time. Her foster family got up early for extended car excursions, and after all of them piled in the shower back to back, there would have been no hot water left for her. While this wasn’t an unusual occurrence, she was holding out for a nice warm lengthy bath to calm her nerves. (Something she was only able to do with the Smythe family away.) Roger, on the other hand, could arrive at breakfast wearing only his underwear, and no one would bat an eye. He often came in a state of dishevelment, at which Maggie would laugh. “Boys will be boys!” she had often repeated with affection.

Maggie turned to poke Jaycee in the back with a big smile, and gestured to the stove. Jaycee got up to retrieve the steamy food from the microwave and stove top, and place it on the table, as Maggie filled her own glass with orange juice. She felt Roger’s eyes on her breasts as she moved, but she refused to look. With the food on the table, everyone began to help themselves in silence. The Smythes didn’t stand on ceremony at the table, at least when it was just family. Discreetly looking at their faces, Jaycee wondered if she would miss them. She was grateful they had taken her in, and supported her, but she had never learned to love them. Whether that had more to do with her broken shell of a heart, or their selfish attitudes, she wasn’t sure. Although they hadn’t been the first family to cut her off from her father, they happily took up the cause. After all, what good could come of being associated with a convict? They, like most people, had written Paul off the moment they had heard of his sentencing.

When the last bite was finished, Jaycee stood up and began clearing away the table. She took up her place at the sink to hand wash the dishes. It was routine after the five years she had lived with them. The dishwasher was fine, but Maggie desired the dishes done by hand, though she preferred not to dirty her own manicured nails to accomplish the feat. Jaycee scrubbed each one with care, so she wouldn’t be called back to repeat the process later. She took extra care not to splash her top with water. After the dishes were dry and neatly stacked back in the cabinets, Jaycee was told to help Roger bring down the families’ suitcases.

“I’ll grab the bags from the master suite,” Jaycee said as she hurried off. She avoided calling her foster parents by their given names, as it irritated Maggie, but she refused to refer to them as her parents. She often settled for using vague references to them instead. It saved hurt feelings, which saved her from Ted’s punishments.

“You should help me—” Roger said, trying to rub up against her, but Jaycee disappeared up the stairs. He was quick to chase her up, but seeing as she was already dragging a suitcase behind her, he decided to leave well enough alone.

“You know the rules and I expect you to behave as well as, or better, than you would with us here,” Ted started in on Jaycee the moment all the bags were piled at the front door.

“Don’t spend all your time studying and neglect the housework. I want you to finish all the laundry while we’re gone. I’ll call you when we have time. So make sure you keep your phone charged. Don’t let anyone in the house, and for goodness’ sake, don’t talk to anyone at that campus of yours. They let anyone in on those tours, and I—” Maggie got lost in her train of thought as Ted guided her toward their little Ford. He and Roger had managed to load all the bags while she rambled.

“I will. It will be fine.” Jaycee couldn’t bring herself to make another false promise, her lies weighed heavy enough. Ted and Maggie piled into the car, without a backward glance. Roger managed to brush against her breasts as he shuffled past her to join them. Her skin crawled with revulsion.

Jaycee stood at the end of the driveway, and watched the car till it rolled out of sight. Her hands trembled. It was time. She returned to the house, and raced up the stairs. Heading into the master suite she plugged the drain, and ran hot water in the Jacuzzi tub. Running back to her room, she loaded her arms up with clothing, and the mini MP3 player she’d received last Christmas. It really was luck that this winter had been much colder than the previous. When living in Missouri, the weather could be unpredictable.

Jaycee would layer her clothing so she could take more with her. She had chosen a purple tee, under a white sweater, topped by a gray hooded sweatshirt. Dark wash jeans, some serviceable panties and bras, and a pair of white socks. She would finish off the ensemble with her black snow boots when she left. Figuring the tub was full enough, she turned off the tap, and stripped. Maggie had a Bluetooth speaker set up beside the tub. She hooked the mini MP3 player up, and turned it on random. Paramore’s “Fences” blasted out as she slipped into the warm water. Pushing the button on the top of the tub, the jets whirled to life. Between the roar the jets made, and Halley’s voice, Jaycee began to relax.

After nearly falling asleep three times, Jaycee decided it was time to get out. She drained the water, towel dried, and began suiting up. Blow-drying her hair would take a while, but without a car of her own, she would be exposed to the cold air too long to leave it wet. Jaycee sang along with Demi Lovato’s “Confident.” It seemed appropriate to rally her spirits. Demi sang the song with such strength, Jaycee tried to copy her emotion. Though Jaycee had a great voice, her voice still lacked the volume needed to really belt it out. Hair dry and smooth, she quickly returned everything to its proper place. It would take her about four hours to reach UEM in Riverton. While she’d been soaking, the time had slipped away. It was 10:00 a.m., and daylight was wasting.

After a final walk-through of her room, Jaycee headed to the fridge to grab some snacks for the drive. Pulling out a soda, she headed to the counter for an apple and a snack bag of Doritos. She normally avoided the family’s name-brand snacks, but since no one would be able to stop her, she decided to indulge. A last-minute glance in the pantry and she decided to grab the peanut butter too. No one else in the house ate it anyway. She threw her supplies in her bag and put on her boots. It was a five-minute walk to the nearest bus stop. The local bus would take her to the regional bus, and so on and so forth, till she found one to take her to UEM. She’d wanted to print the schedule she had researched, but she was too afraid someone would find it. Instead, Jaycee studied the maps and routes till she could recite them in her sleep. That is, if she had slept, of course.

The walk was quiet. The wind was always blowing hard in Tornado Alley, and today it brought a crisp chill under Jaycee’s hoodie. She pulled the hood up over her hair to keep it from becoming a rat’s nest by the end of her walk. Not many people were out on the street, though she was passed by a few cars. Walking fast was difficult with her duffle hanging off her left shoulder, and her right hand tugging her suitcase behind her. The job would have been easier on a flat surface, but the sidewalks were hilly, and often cracked. Eventually she spotted the bus stop, and plopped onto the provided bench with little grace. Slightly winded, Jaycee pulled her sweaty tee away from her skin. The cool air shivered along her stomach quickly cooling her temperature.

Reading the bus times on the sign, and glancing at her watch, Jaycee had arrived at the right moment. The bus should be arriving within a minute. She stared at her shoes, pulled out her MP3, and blasted tunes to keep her occupied. Lifehouse’s “Hanging By a Moment” played next. She avoided the eyes of any passersby. This was one moment she hadn’t planned out very well, hopefully none of Maggie’s friends would pass by, and notice her extra baggage. Squeaky wheels could be heard over her music, signaling the arrival of her ride. She handed her bags off to the bus driver, and headed to the back of the bus. Another fifteen minutes, and she would arrive at the next bus station.

Somewhere after passing Columbia, Missouri, Jaycee had fallen asleep. She dreamed about her mother. Maybe her mother had driven her around as a baby to put her to sleep. It was possible, likely even. She knew from her dad’s stories her mother had been loving and kind. Patty had passed away when Jaycee was only two. Her heart had given out. She’d suffered heart defects since birth, and the last surgery was just one too many. Jaycee dreamed about her mother’s face often, but she was never sure if it was a memory, or a fictitious one she had created from looking at a photograph. Either way, it brought her comfort in troubling times. Today it just fueled her spirit, and steeled her determination. Her mother hadn’t been around to help her father, and Jaycee had been too young at the time to do more than cry. Now, however, she was an adult. She would figure something out. Surely the Wallners would remember her. She doubted anyone in Maple Grove had forgotten her father’s story, even if they did get all the facts wrong.

As horrible as it was for Jaycee to have her whole life ripped away, the move to live with foster family number one had been a blessing, in one way, at least. Jaycee no longer had to look at every street, and remember how great things used to be. She still was recognized everywhere she went, for several months, following the sentencing of her father. No matter which school she went to, someone managed to find out what had happened, and spread rumors about her. Her foster parents were always informed of her situation, and it wouldn’t have been beneath the other kids, at any of the houses, to spread those rumors themselves. At first she hadn’t known how to handle all the negative attention, but after living through it for several years, Jaycee had just withdrawn further into herself. There had been nice kids at some of the schools she’d been to, but any who’d tried to befriend her wound up sharing her fate. Instead of punishing them with her friendship, she merely feigned disinterest in others.

The bus seats weren’t uncomfortable on this leg on the trip. The seats were covered in a soft navy fabric instead of sticky leather. There weren’t many people on the bus either, giving her a free seat beside her. Jaycee had kept the bag of chips in her pocket, and pulled them out to munch on. She had received a free bottle of water when she purchased her bus ticket, and she opened that too. The seat beside her became her table to switch between drinking and eating. She had another half an hour before she would reach Riverton. Throbbing had started about an hour ago in her neck, and had traveled down her back and bony butt during the last twenty minutes. Stretching out as best as she could, she looked out her window at the scenery. Missouri looked similar in most areas. Only down south, where there were much larger hills and rolls to the land, did it look unique. Still, she felt like she had finally come home.

The air smelled better here, she noted as she stepped off the bus. The bus had deposited her within a ten-minute walk of campus. Jaycee pulled her phone out, and looked at the screen, wishing she had a smartphone with maps. The longing for her own car also surfaced. She hadn’t spent all her money, but finding a taxi in Missouri wasn’t like finding a taxi in New York or Chicago. So she walked, and walked. The longer she went, the more she built up a sweat. Unzipping her hoodie, she pulled it off and tied it around her waist. The cool air felt wonderful. She hated to think of how bad she might smell. Looking around to see if anyone was watching, Jaycee did a discreet smooth-the-hair-smell-the-underarm trick. Not too bad, thankfully. The cold temperatures had kept the odor down. The UEM campus began to appear over the hill. She knew what building to look for, as she had studied the images and maps on the website. Going so far as to use Google Maps to see a street view of her dormitory.