Crazy Sweet Love: Contemporary Romance Novella, Clean Interracial Romantic Comedy (Flower Shop Romance Book 3)

by Marisa Logan

  But, she reminded herself, that wasn't her mother's choice to make. Jenny silently vowed that if she ever had a daughter, she would respect her child's decisions. She'd guide her and offer her advice, but let her make her own choices in life.

  When they reached Marjorie's exit, they pulled off the highway. Marjorie drove Jenny to a little shopping center and dropped her off in front of a Goodwill store. “Do yourself a favor,” she said, pulling a few bills out of her purse and handing them to Jenny. “Get yourself some shoes, and call your mother. Tell her that you're safe. You don't have to talk to her. Just let her know you're alive. I'm sure she's worried sick about you.”

  Jenny took the money, feeling guilty for accepting another stranger's charity. But she needed shoes, and lunch. “Thanks,” she said. “I hope you sell a lot of pies.”

  She headed into the Goodwill store and bought the cheapest pair of used sneakers she could find. Then she walked down the shopping center and went into the Dollar Store to buy a cheap, off-brand cola and a little bit of food for the road.

  She had a handful of change left. She held it in her palm, walking up to a payphone that stood outside the Dollar Store. She sighed and picked up the phone, sticking a few coins into the slot. She dialed her home number with trembling fingers.

  When someone picked up on the other end, Jenny closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and asked, “Mom?”

  Chapter 16

  “Mom's not here, skreb.”

  “Kathy.” Jenny sighed, rubbing her fingers over her eyes. “Where's Mom?”

  “She's at work. Duh. Are you coming home?”

  “No. I just wanted to call and check in. Let you guys know I'm okay.”

  “Where are you?”

  “North Carolina.” Jenny looked around for some way to tell where she was. She read the name off the auto body shop across the street. “South Weldon, I guess? I don't know where that is.”

  “Hold on. I'll check.”

  “Mom let you have your computer while she's at work?”

  “She doesn't know I know all the passwords to everything. Hold on.”

  There was a rustling sound over the phone. It sounded like Kathy was digging through Mom's drawers. Then she heard the sound of typing. “Jeeze, your laptop is so slow.”

  “Hey, that's not my fault,” Jenny said.

  “Whatever, skreb. I'm keeping it, since you're not coming back for it anyway.”

  Jenny sighed and rolled her eyes. She was glad her sister was at least taking her moving out so well.

  “Google says 337.7 miles to Philly,” Kathy said. “Like five hours, if you have a car. Do you have a car?”

  “I've mostly been hitchhiking,” Jenny said, grinning. “And I hopped a train.”

  “Dude, seriously? That's so cool.”

  “All right, kiddo. I should go. I can get the rest of the way there today if I can catch a couple more rides.”

  “Okay. Don't get like, murdered or anything.”

  “I won't. Promise. And tell the kids I love them.”

  “Should I say anything to Mom?”

  Jenny thought about that. She wasn't sure what message to leave her mother. She definitely wasn't in the mood to tell her she loved her. “Just tell her...tell her I called to say I'm safe.”

  “All right. See you later, skreb.”

  “Bye, brat.”

  Jenny hung up, then leaned her head against the phone, letting out a long sigh. She was glad Mom hadn't actually been home. She wasn't ready for that conversation.

  She walked out to the highway and started hitching again. She traveled a couple hundred miles with a cute gay couple who were heading for some kind of political rally in Washington D.C. Then she got a ride with a businessman who spent the whole ride talking to her about insurance. She took his card when he dropped her off near Baltimore, though she couldn't imagine what she needed insurance for.

  During the final leg of her trip, Jenny got a ride with a man driving a tractor trailer, who introduced himself as Dennis. When he let her in the cab, he looked her up and down and said, “Wooo-eee! Girl, that is one hell of an outfit you've got yourself there.”

  Jenny smiled bashfully. “Thanks. I made it myself.”

  “What are you, some kind of cat burglar?”

  “A super spy, actually.” She grinned, holding her head up high. When he gave her a confused look she added, “It's from a comic book.”

  “Oh, I gotcha. You're one of them, whatchacallit, LARP people?”

  “Live action role play? No. Close. That's more for gaming than comics.”

  The trucker shrugged and scratched his bushy beard. “Well, I got a cousin that does that Dungeons and Dragons. I could never get my head around it. Always tried to get the boy into sports, but he does what he likes I guess.”

  They drove in silence for a little while, then Dennis asked, “So, if you don't mind my asking, what's in Philadelphia? I mean, what are you heading up there for?”

  Jenny stared out the window, imagining the city in the distance. “A new life. And...well, a boy.”

  “Ahh.” Dennis gave her a knowing grin. “Gotcha. It's always for a boy. My little sister moved to Canada for a boy.”

  “Wow. I can't imagine what that was like.”

  “Well, she went and got deported not long after. Got herself in some trouble.” He shook his head, a disappointed frown on his face.

  “That's a shame.”

  “Ayup. So, this boy of yours, he waiting for you with a big welcoming party?”

  “No, actually, he...he doesn't know I'm coming yet.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “What?” She frowned at him, suddenly feeling the tight grip of worry.

  “Well, this ain't really my business, but...if he doesn't know you're coming, how do you know he wants you there?”

  Jenny touched her finger to her lips and stared out the window. With everything that had happened, she hadn't stopped to consider the possibility that Jeremy wouldn't want her to come to Philadelphia. Sure, they'd shared a wonderful night together, and she was sure he'd meant it when he said he wanted to see her again. But there was a big difference between coming up there to visit, or being invited for a trip, as opposed to packing her bags and moving across the country.

  What if he saw her sudden move as too much? If he thought she was a creepy, clingy girl who had read too much into things? They had never discussed the possibility of a serious relationship. Now she had to face the possibility that he hadn't wanted anything more than a casual, online fling.

  And even if he did want something more serious, he might not be ready for her to just show up on his doorstep saying she'd moved to his city. He would probably have wanted to take things more slowly, going on normal dates and getting to know each other more, before deciding if they had enough chemistry for a serious commitment.

  Jenny was quiet for the rest of the trip. Dennis dropped her off a couple of hours later at the edge of the city, before continuing on his way. She stood there, surrounded by a sea of cement, tall buildings, busy streets, and unfamiliar sights.

  The buildings were taller than any she'd ever seen. The traffic was heavier than the worst traffic jams she'd been in. There was graffiti everywhere, and litter dotted the edges of the road.

  “Well,” she said, looking around with a deep frown. “Welcome home.”

  Chapter 17

  Jenny walked into the city, gazing up at the sights, trying not to feel overwhelmed. Looking up at the taller buildings made her dizzy. There were several still under construction, and she couldn't begin to grasp the engineering skill required to build such things. It was one thing to see skyscrapers on TV. It was another thing entirely to stand beneath one, gazing up at it, and seeing the way the afternoon sunlight reflected off a thousand panes of crystal clear glass.

  After wandering around for awhile, trying to get a feel for the city, Jenny asked for directions to the library. She headed straight for the computers and logged in with a guest a
ccount, then booted up her email. There were several messages from Jeremy. She loaded the most recent one:

  To: CrimsonJen@gmail.com

  From: JerBear19@yahoo.com

  Subject: Missing you

  Dear Jen,

  Hey. I haven't heard from you since the convention. I hope everything is okay. I had a really great time. I can't stop thinking about you. I hope we get the chance to see each other soon.

  I've got some unused vacation time coming from work. Maybe next month or something I could use it to come see you. If you want to, I mean. It's up to you.

  Love,

  Jeremy

  She read the email twice, focusing on the way he signed it with “Love.” Did he mean that in the literal sense, or was it just a nicer closing than “Sincerely”?

  She sighed and rubbed her fingers against her forehead, trying to think what to tell him. “Hey, I'm in Philly!” seemed too sudden and direct. She didn't want to freak him out. She decided she needed a way to feel out the situation and find out how he'd react. She felt a twist in her gut at the realization that it would mean lying to him, but she didn't see any other way.

  She spent a few minutes sorting out her thoughts, then sent him a reply:

  To: JerBear19@yahoo.com

  From: CrimsonJen@gmail.com

  Subject: RE: Missing you

  Dear Jeremy,

  Hey. I'm okay. It's been...well, it's been kind of a crazy couple of days. Issues with my mom. I'll explain it all later, but the important thing is that I'm safe, I'm doing fine, and I'm making some important changes in my life.

  I'm going to be getting my own place soon. Like, as soon as I can find a place and get a job. It's time for me to be living on my own.

  And along those lines, there's something I want to ask you. I don't really much care for all the racism, religious paranoia, and homophobia I see all the time down in Georgia. I think I should move up north. But I don't really know anything about the area. I'd need some help getting settled.

  How would you feel if I moved up somewhere near you?

  Love,

  Jen

  She re-read the email, trying to see if it gave the right impression. She couldn't predict how he might react, but she couldn't think of any other way to broach the subject. She hit “send,” then opened the web browser to start searching for jobs and a place to stay.

  An hour later, she had a list of teen and women's shelters in the Philadelphia area. Places for people who were runaways, or escaping abuse, or recovering from drug or alcohol addiction. One of them would probably at least be able to give her a warm bed and hopefully some hot food. Plus the websites listed resources for help finding a job, and that was something she desperately needed.

  She also ran some searches for places to fill out job applications. Luckily, Philadelphia was a big city with a lot of businesses, so there were plenty of opportunities out there. Though she was also sure there were a lot of other unemployed people seeking jobs, many of them with better education and experience than a homeschooled girl from Georgia. If she wanted to be competitive in the job market, even if she was competing for a job running a cash register, she'd need a plan to make herself stand out.

  After running a few different searches and filling out some online applications, she came across a list that made her eyebrows shoot up. She scanned the businesses, coming up with an idea. It was maybe a kind of crazy idea, but she thought she might just stand a chance.

  She used the library printer to print out applications for a few of the places, planning to turn in these applications in person. She would need to really “wow” the shop owners, but she thought she knew just how to do that.

  After she finished her first round of job hunting, Jenny checked her email and found a reply from Jeremy:

  To: CrimsonJen@gmail.com

  From: JerBear19@yahoo.com

  Subject: Missing you

  Dear Jen,

  Wow, I'm glad to hear you're finally moving out on your own. That's great! Sometimes I can't imagine how you put up with your mom for as long as you did.

  I'd love it if you decided to move up here. I mean, I don't want to pressure you into it or anything, but I think it would be really great. We'd be able to see each other all the time.

  If you want, you can come stay with me while you're looking for a job and an apartment and all that. I'd love to have you here. I can drive you around to check out places you want to apply. And I still want to take you to the art museum.

  Let me know if there's any way I can help.

  Love,

  Jeremy

  She smiled as she read the message. She was sure she could simply ask to move in with him, and he'd say yes. He was too sweet and supportive to say no. But this was something she needed to do on her own.

  She sent him one last message before logging off for the night:

  To: JerBear19@yahoo.com

  From: CrimsonJen@gmail.com

  Subject: RE: Missing you

  Dear Jeremy,

  Thank you so much. You're so sweet to me. I definitely want to see you as soon as possible.

  I've got some things to take care of on my own first. But I'll keep you updated on how things are going.

  Oh, and don't worry, I haven't forgotten about our Ana/Wilhelm fanfic. I'll get back to writing as soon as I get everything else settled.

  Love,

  Jenny

  She gathered up her things, then set out to walk to one of the shelters she'd found online. When she got there, she was greeted warmly by a woman with a kind face and a welcoming smile. She was asked some questions about her situation, which she answered honestly. She explained her trip from Georgia to Philadelphia, skipping over things like the train hopping and the guy she'd pepper sprayed.

  Everything seemed straightforward, until the woman asked her something complicated. “Now, I know this can be a difficult question, and you don't have to answer if you don't want to, but it can be helpful so we know what kind of resources to provide you with. Have you suffered any sort of abuse?”

  Jenny stared at the woman, unsure how to even answer that question. Had she been abused? Her mother hadn't hit her, at least, not since she was younger. Though the beatings she'd received through her childhood and adolescence had been much more severe than simple punishments.

  She thought about the way her mom had taken her necklace, the one Jeremy had bought her, and thrown it in the garbage disposal. That had hurt her more than a physical blow would have. Was that abuse?

  Then she considered how she and her siblings had been trapped inside all day, every day, unable to even play in their own backyard. The way they'd be cut off from the outside world, unable to even get online when their mother decided it was time for an “electronics-free day.” And how Jenny hadn't received any sort of education since she was about thirteen, forcing her to teach herself what she could online. And forcing her to take charge of her siblings' education when their mother neglected it. Was that abuse?

  Her voice caught in her throat. She couldn't find the answer.

  “It's okay, dear,” the woman said, patting her hand. “You don't have to answer.”

  Jenny swallowed a lump in her throat and nodded, wiping away the tears that started welling in her eyes. Though she realized that even if the woman wouldn't make her answer, these were questions that she was going to have to figure out on her own.

  She was shown to a room with a small bed, a dresser, and a private bathroom. The woman handed her some pamphlets for her to read, and explained the rules, which mostly involved no drugs or alcohol and no male visitors. Then she gave Jenny a list of resources the shelter offered, including counseling services, job placement assistance, and other guidance.

  When the woman left, Jenny sat down on the bed. The mattress was hard and thin, but it was far better than sleeping outdoors or in a train car. She laid down and pulled Mr. Fabulous the Zebra from her bag, clutching him to her chest.

  Tomorrow, she promised hers
elf, she would begin taking charge of her new life.

  Chapter 18

  The next day, Jenny took a good, long, hot shower, scrubbing away all of the dirt and grime from her cross-country adventure. Once she was clean, she borrowed a pair of scissors from one of her new neighbors in the shelter and stood in her bathroom, looking at her reflection in the mirror. She'd grown out her hair for years, and when it wasn't a tangled mess, it was long, flowing, and very feminine. Which was the traditional expectation for girls from her part of Georgia. Anyone with short hair was called a “tomboy” or worse.

  She took the scissors to her hair and started chopping it off. Long tresses rained down around her, littering the bathroom floor. She didn't stop until her hair was so short it barely touched her ears. She teased it and played with it as best she could, keeping a touch of feminine style, but the end result was still a shocking change. She barely recognized herself.

  She got dressed and headed downstairs to have breakfast with the other residents of the shelter. Her appearance drew a lot of stares, and not just because of her hair. She took the attention as a good sign. Everything was going according to plan.

  After she ate, she headed across the city with one of several possible destinations in mind. She'd printed up maps with walking directions to get where she was going, though it turned out the squared-off grids of the city blocks made navigation pretty easy.

  She reached her destination and walked in with a purposeful stride. She'd once read an article online that said if you wanted to get noticed, you had to “Walk like you'd just been sent to kill Captain America.” She kept that in mind as she moved with deadly grace, past several gawking men who peered at her in between browsing the shop's wares.

  She moved past racks of comic books and action figures, her eyes on the front counter. There was a man behind the counter, maybe in his late twenties or early thirties, wearing a blue plaid shirt and sporting a short-cropped beard. He eyed her with as much interest as everyone else in the comic book store.