Maruja's Desire

Part Three Life with Jessie went on, though it was not without sadness and hardship. Every day was a struggle for the lovely lady. Maruja understood this and never grew impatient with her or tried to push her in any way. She enjoyed having her around too much to lose her, though it was sometimes hard to control herself. She knew a relationship wasn’t guaranteed to come of it just because Jessie had been with women before. “I go with what’s right,” the native New Englander had told her. “If it’s got balls, it’s got balls. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t.” The best day was when she showed emotion other than sadness, which her sister had mentioned as being a sign of recovery when Jessie was having a rough patch in life. She got angry. Maruja had loved it. She was sorry the sweet thing was angry, but not sorry she was also showing signs of returning to life. “Ugh, that fucking media!” Jessie had shouted, tossing the newspaper onto the coffee table. Maruja took a sip of her coffee, remaining calm despite her outburst. “Always, always gotta make shit up. Calvin was at work when disaster struck. I was at home. Why they’re saying we were together beats me. I wish we’d been able to spend our final moments together.” “At least it’s just a location error and not something bad being said about either one of you personally.” “Still makes me want to hunt down whoever wrote this shit and slam my fist in their face!” Then she quickly turned to face her. “I’m sorry.” “For what? We all get angry every now and then.” “Yeah, but I didn’t mean to scare you or anything.” Maruja laughed, which only fueled Jessie’s anger. “Why would it scare me?” “Well, I don’t want you to think I’m going to get violent on you or anything like that, ok?” Maruja laughed again. “I have a feeling you’re quite harmless.” A sudden knock on the door nearly startled Jessie through the roof before she could reply. She was still quick to react to loud and sudden sounds, quite understandably. It turned out to be the older lady who lived next door. “Have you come to babysit me?” Jessie said, not bothering to hide her sarcasm. The other women laughed, but Jessie was obviously becoming increasingly annoyed with Maruja’s desire not to have her left alone. Too bad. It was simply too soon, and she was still much too fragile and didn’t seem to want to be left alone most of the time anyway. Perhaps in another week or two things would be different. Maruja was becoming more and more attached and attracted to the grief-stricken yet feisty lady who seemed to have an amazing knack for writing and languages. But Maruja wasn’t stupid either. She knew that her chances of them becoming more than just friends weren’t good. First, it would take time, seeing that she’d just lost her husband. Secondly, Maruja wasn’t very attractive and she knew it. She never kidded herself in that department. She kept herself in pretty good shape but had the lamest face in the world. Lastly, Jessie didn’t seem to show much interest in her other than a natural curiosity about the person who had given her a home to live in. Although… she had caught her staring at her a few times and she had made several remarks—in a positive way—about her appearance. Was Jessie just being “nice?” Was she simply reading too much into the woman’s compliments? Either way, Maruja was willing to wait for Jessie when the time was right, and hope for the best. Maruja comforted her at night when she’d be in tears and missing her husband most. Once, a loud clap of thunder caused Jessie to wake up screaming, flashing back to the thunderous earthquake that had rocked the area and claimed nearly a thousand lives and hundreds of homes. Maruja had been beside her in a flash and had taken her into her own bed. Jessie had slept with her ever since. Maruja loved this arrangement, but it could also be very frustrating at times. Very slowly, Jessie began to pull out of her depression. She still wasn’t happy, but she no longer worried Maruja as much as she used to. Deep down she had always felt that she was strong enough to get through the ordeal that landed her in Maruja’s home, but she also knew she couldn’t be a hundred percent sure of anything either. They fell into a routine. Jessie saw another endocrinologist whom Maruja was familiar with and trusted. She also took care of the house and did things online that Maruja didn’t really understand, much less care about. She just loved being able to come home and know that Jessie would be there waiting for her unless she was at the neighbor’s house or out riding her bike. It was a life she could definitely get used to. ________________________________________ Jessie wheeled her bike alongside the house, parked it, and then entered the back door. “Hello.” Jessie’s head jerked up. There stood Maruja, hair now to the middle of her back instead of just below her shoulders. “Wow, your hair sure grew fast!” A burst of laughter as Maruja stepped into view. Jessie blinked with surprise. “You have a twin sister!” Still laughing, all Maruja could do was nod while her sister simply stood there smiling. “So this is what you’d look like with five or six more inches of hair, huh?” “Yeah,” Maruja said, finally able to talk. “I had it this long shortly before you first saw me at work. Anyway, meet my dear sister, Faruza.” “Nice to meet you,” said Jessie. Faruza smiled curtly, though Jessie wasn’t sure how genuine it was. There was something in her dark eyes… a resentment of sorts? The woman never gave her condolences or anything else. Never asked how she was doing… nothing. Jessie briefly wondered if she knew her twin liked her and if she might have a problem with that. Well, she was getting to like her twin in return; only guilt kept her feelings in check. “She’s very smart, this tough little survivor,” Maruja told her twin proudly. “She knows Spanish and other languages as well.” “Yes, you told me,” Faruza said in a tone laced with annoyance, furthering Jessie’s suspicions. Not wanting to be around anyone who may not care for her, regardless of the reason, Jessie said, “Well, I think I’ll go freshen up now and let you two chat. Nice meeting you, Faruza.” “Uh-huh. See you later,” Faruza said. ________________________________________ “She doesn’t like me,” Jessie told Maruja later that evening as they were folding clothes in the bedroom. “My sister? Why do you say that? She just doesn’t know you is all.” “She knows we like each other.” Now it was Maruja’s turn to blink with surprise. “We do?” For a minute Jessie froze, wanting to kick herself. “I mean of course I like you, but I didn’t know you liked me,” Maruja said. “Oh,” said Jessie, relaxing with relief. “Well, what’s not to like? You’re kind, compassionate, and generous. You gave me a home, clothes to wear, and food to eat. You’re good looking, though a bit serious most of the time.” Maruja smiled at that one. “But I don’t think I could ever get close to anyone again. I don’t think the guilt I’d feel would let me.” Maruja suddenly put down the shawl she’d been folding and burst out laughing. “What’s so funny?” Maruja sat at the foot of the bed and said, “Last night you slept in my arms. How much closer does it get?” Jessie stepped in front of her. “Well…” Maruja gently pulled her toward her and kissed her on the lips. Not a lingering kiss; just a brief but sincere one. Then she said, “All in good time, my dear. Good things are worth waiting for when they’re meant to be. It has only been a few months.” “I know,” Jessie said with a nod, “though it also seems like just yesterday as well as years ago.” Maruja nodded understandably. Jessie sat next to her and asked, “So why’d you get divorced, or is that none of my business?” “Oh no, you can ask what you want. Carlos was a good guy. He just wasn’t what I wanted. The more time went on, the more I realized that we only have one life. In that life we can do what’s expected of us or we can follow our hearts.” Jessie took a moment to digest Maruja’s words. “Wow, I never would’ve guessed.” Then, “I’d been with women before I met Cal.” “I knew you were at least somewhat on the liberal side with that shirt you wore in support of equality.” “You have a good memory. Still, I never would have guessed you’d consider a woman. Just goes to prove we don’t all look the part,” Jessie said, emphasizing the word look. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t consider just any woman.” “Gotta admit I’m kinda surprised—and flattered—that you would consider me. We’re so different. I would’ve thought you’d want a professional of your own kind and all that, who’s a little less eccentric than I can be.” Maruja smiled. “Well, I can’t make you stay, but have you ever heard that opposites attract?” “Yes. I just thought I was the only one who actually believed that.” Maruja chuckled and said, “I admire your beauty, your strength, your energy, and your ability to learn. You’re right, though, normally I wouldn’t pay much attention to smartasses like yourself who always seem to have an answer for everything, but I guess you just have a way with words that really grabs one’s attention.” Jessie smiled gratefully, though she was still full of mixed emotions and uncertainty. Regardless of missing and feeling guilty over the loss of Cal, she knew she should be thrilled that Maruja wanted her. She wasn’t the greatest looking, but she was still pleasant enough. She wasn’t the funniest, but she was smart. She was caring, dependable, and more than willing to meet her needs. So what was the problem then—and was it all really connected to Calvin? ________________________________________ The months continued to pass and Jessie slowly warmed up to the idea of being with Maruja on an intimate basis. Summer had turned into another mild California winter, and then into a pleasant spring. Maruja hadn’t asked much about the life Jessie had led prior to moving in with her some eight or so months ago, but Jessie was curious about the woman and often asked questions. Maruja’s life had seemed rather simple. Successful, but simple. She spent her childhood in Venezuela. She had loving parents and three siblings. She came to the U.S. ready to practice endocrinology. She married and had a son. She divorced and had a short-term relationship with a woman. Now her son was in college and she was lonely. At least that’s the impression Jessie got, even though she didn’t say she was. Jessie wondered if she only showed interest in her because she was convenient. She hated to think of that possibility. What if they’d met on other terms and they had both been single? Would Maruja want her then? ________________________________________ “Jessie Jamie. Cute name.” Maruja smiled in agreement at her friend as they dined at a fine restaurant that night. “I hate it,” Jessie said between bites of lobster, “but I guess most of us don’t exactly care for our names.” The woman, also a medical professional, laughed as she picked up a plump piece of butterfly shrimp. “So how are you liking living with Maruja?” Jessie chose her words carefully. “It’s not bad when she’s not being too bossy.” Although Maruja smiled, Jessie could see the discomfort, and even a trace of anger, behind the smile. It was true that the specialist was becoming increasingly possessive, nosy, and bossy lately, and Jessie didn’t understand why. Was she obsessed with her? The idea of this still shocked the hell out of Jessie, since anyone who had even remotely shown signs of being obsessed with her in the past were batshit crazy, dumber than dumb, and downright ugly. Jessie first thought she was simply concerned because she didn’t know her well and Jessie was living in her house, but as the months went by, she could see it was more than that. It wasn’t about concern. It was about possession and control. By early June Jessie had had enough. “Look, I really wish you would just back off! I’m not going to not have friends, and I’m not going to not talk to the neighbors, and I’m not going to not go out on bike rides either, simply because you can’t always accompany me.” The doctor advanced toward her menacingly, brown eyes turning black. “You are going to do exactly what I ask of you. I buy your food. I clothe you. I give you a place to live.” Jessie stared at her incredulously. “What do you think I am, a child?” Ignoring her, Maruja said, “You may have money saved up, but without it you’d be on your own, and eventually you’d have to get off your pampered ass and get a job when the money ran out, so I’d be a bit more grateful if I were you.” Jessie was stunned. Then she exploded. “You know what? Fuck this shit! I’m outta here. I’m going to start looking for a—” “You’re not going anywhere! You made a commitment to me!” Maruja screamed. “I’m not obligated to anyone who treats me like a prisoner and insults me. I cleaned and cooked for you because I wanted to, not because I was your slave.” “I don’t care about cooking and cleaning. I can always hire help for that.” “Yeah, well, if you don’t loosen the noose you’ve had around my neck this last month or two, you’ll be hiring help, alright—or doing things yourself.” “And I will find you and bring you back here where you belong.” “No, you won’t, Maruja. I don’t belong to anyone.” But Maruja wouldn’t let up. The insults, control, and obsession only escalated to the point that Jessie was actually surprised it hadn’t become physical. She figured it was only a matter of time, though, and knew it was time to make a move. She doubted Maruja was kidding when she said she would find her. She had the obsession, tools, and resources to do so. That’s why Jessie had to choose her next destination carefully, grateful as hell that Maruja didn’t have access to her bank account. Where could she run to where she wouldn’t be found? She’d love to run to her sister. But not only did her sister have her own problems, Jessie knew that would be one of the first places Maruja would check. So then… where would the possessive doctor least expect her to go…? How about to a place where most folks were of a different race than she was, and in a climate that was shittier than shitty? ________________________________________ Jessie exited the plane, aware of a stickiness in the air that she wasn’t used to feeling back in California. She retrieved her luggage and shuttled to the nearest hotel. It was after four in the afternoon when she was closing the hotel door behind her and hoping she’d done a successful job of throwing Maruja off her scent. She’d love to place a call to her right now just to laugh at her and see what she had to say about her running off, but she didn’t want to risk being traced somehow, even though Maruja certainly wasn’t that resourceful. But the private detective she would probably hire would be, and that meant that Jessie needed to be smart about her escape and sever all ties completely. Even her online life had to either end for a while or change drastically until she could be sure her whereabouts would remain unknown. And even then, she might have to use aliases. Jessie placed the very few things she’d taken with her on the bed and walked up to the window. She gazed down at the streets of Detroit a few floors below. The streets looked dark, lonely, and even dangerous. She would hate living here. It would be humid in the summer and cold and snowy in the winter, just west of the Ontario border. Furthermore, the city reeked of poverty, despair, and hopelessness. There wouldn’t be many job opportunities here either, and Jessie might have to endure the city longer than she’d like in order to get a job and save enough money to relocate to a better place. The disaster money would support her for several more months, but that was about it. Money or not, it was important to go where Maruja was less likely to guess she’d gone. Once she obtained a real sense of security, she would then head south. For now, a hot shower, some room service, and then a good night’s sleep were in order. Jessie had fallen asleep so early that it was still dark when she woke up. A woman shouting down on the street could be heard. Maybe it wasn’t that early, she thought, until she glanced at the clock and saw it was barely after 4 a.m. Then she remembered where she was. The woman who had shouted was probably a hooker or a homeless person. Why else would anyone shout on the streets at that hour in a city like Detroit? She thought of her life with Calvin. It now seemed like an eternity ago, but it still hurt to think of, so she quickly switched all thoughts of him and their life together off. Jessie sat up and realized how hungry she was. She would find a vending machine within the hotel because there was no way she would risk going outside before daylight—not that it would be that much safer at that time. Now fully dressed, she went out into the corridor. Even that seemed a bit creepy, with one of its fluorescent bulbs flickering above and just the overall feel of the place. It felt stuffy, dirty, and ominous. Jessie tried to think of where she’d seen vending machines within the building and quickly headed in that direction. Finding what she was rooting for, she got coffee cakes, chips, and some coffee. The coffee was just finishing pouring into the cup when she heard the elevator ding. “Aw, man, that shit was fucking awesome,” she heard a young male say. “Yeah, but I’m still horny and I don’t care what time it is,” his companion said. She snatched the cup off the machine and hurried to her room, hopefully before the two men, flying on both drugs and hormones, could spot her. She heard laughter as one of her bags of snacks slipped from her hand. She quickly stopped to pick it up, and then almost ran down the hallway to her room. Once inside, she added both the chain latch and the metal arm-like catcher for extra security. A moment later she heard the men pass by her door. She sat at the old scuffed table by the window, listening to her surroundings as she drank the coffee. It tasted horrible. She wasn’t surprised—it did come from a vending machine, after all. But hey, it was still coffee. From outside in the hall, she could hear the men’s voices again as they laughed and snickered, probably about whatever trysts they had indulged in last night, amongst other things. They suddenly stopped at her door and then fell silent. Jessie’s heartbeat sped up as she froze and listened harder. She thought she heard a second or two of laughter, then nothing again. The faint shadows under the door suggested someone was still standing right in front of it. Her heartbeat sped up even faster as she slowly rose from her chair and headed over to the phone, just in case they had the nerve to try to kick the door in or something crazy like that. She wished she’d had a gun. In this city, that might be worth considering. Jessie wondered if they were going to knock on the door or do something else, but then the laughter resumed and quickly faded as the duo continued on. Jessie’s lungs deflated in a deep sigh of relief. She ate her coffee cake and finished her pitiful coffee as she peered through a gap in the drapes at the cityscape beyond the dirty window. Soon the sun would rise. Only problem was that it was Sunday. What much could she do on a Sunday? She rose from her chair and stepped up to the window, deciding that she could at least get some ideas as to where she might start looking for work. Despite the early Sunday morning hour, she saw several transients, hookers, and others who were probably up to no good. Jessie had nothing against Blacks, but she could never understand why so many of them chose to live the way they did in a time when opportunities were overly abundant to them. It didn’t have to be this way unless it was all they knew or what they actually wanted. Jessie shrugged. To each their own. Right now she had her own well-being to consider. What others did with their lives was up to them. She pulled out her laptop and set it up. Once she was connected to the Wi-Fi, she checked her email and was surprised there were no messages from Maruja or anyone connected to her. There was one from her sister, to which she promptly replied, letting her know she’d arrived safe and sound. Her sister, along with a few close and trusted friends, were the only ones who knew where she was. She continued browsing. Nothing on Facebook, nothing on Twitter. She logged into her blog and gazed longingly at the last page of posts. Although they weren’t the happiest of entries, she really missed blogging and the surprise of never knowing what people might respond with. It was fun and interesting to get feedback from all walks of life, from all over the globe. She knew she could write a post as long as she didn’t divulge her location, but she also knew that writing about her life might mean dropping enough hints to give Maruja a damn good idea of where she was. She didn’t even want her to know what state she’d gone to, let alone what city. Even saying she’d headed east or to a place that gets cold would narrow it down by at least ruling out more than half the country. She realized she could lie about her whereabouts altogether and make it look like she’d gone to Texas or something like that, but she didn’t want to get into being deceptive either. Better to just keep silent than to make up lies she might fail to be consistent with. She got up, threw herself down on the bed, and cried. She lay there for a while, filled with sorrow, fear, and uncertainty. She really wished things could have worked out with Maruja if she had to lose her husband to such tragic circumstances. She was pissed at God, she was pissed at Maruja, and she was pissed at the world in general. Why was life so damn unfair?! A few hours later she was hungry again and decided it would be a safer time to check out the area. Out in the humid weather, no one bothered her or even looked her way. If anything, it was as if she were invisible. People simply walked past her as if she wasn’t even there. Better to be ignored than hassled, she reasoned. She grabbed a turkey sandwich at a deli across the street and then decided which way to go from there. Deciding that left was as good a direction as any, she turned that way after stepping outside and walked up the street. She spotted the types of buildings she expected to find downtown in any large city—stores, restaurants, drugstores, the courthouse, city hall, the police station… A young Black cop was standing just outside his cruiser, sipping from a can of soda. He was about to enter it when Jessie approached him. “Hi. I’m new here.” The cop looked at her almost as if to say, so fucking what? “I was wondering if you could tell me where the best place would be to find part-time work.” “Well,” he said thoughtfully, “the temp agency might be a good place to start when they open up tomorrow morning. They can probably help you get something set up. It’s a few blocks west of here on Dexter.” Jessie thanked the officer and began walking again. The following morning, Jessie quickly showered and then headed for a quick breakfast a little ways up the street. After her bacon, eggs, hash browns, and coffee were consumed, she headed to the temp agency. She was lucky, too. She nabbed an interview later that afternoon at the courthouse just up the street for a host of possible odd jobs, most likely cleaning the judges’ private chambers and assisting them throughout the day with menial tasks. The interview was held in a ground-floor office with a slender yet stern-appearing woman who had cropped steely-gray hair. Jessie wondered how she managed to keep her locks so perfectly rounded to the shape of her head and imagined it would be rather stiff to the touch with the amount of hairspray it no doubt held. “What exactly are you looking for?” the lady asked her. “Something part-time for starters, though full-time is fine, too. I haven’t worked in a while and I just thought it’d be best to start with something part-time, even if it’s just cleaning offices. I’m new to the city and so I’d like to get started right away if that’s possible.” She was asked to fill out a form, which contained the usual information, and while she hated to do so, she used the hotel’s address because she didn’t have a place to live yet. “Where’d you move from?” Jessie briefly told her about the earthquake and the loss of her husband but left Maruja out of the story. The woman seemed as indifferent as ever to her story. She may as well have told her she wanted a climate change. “Why Detroit?” “Well, I guess I thought I needed a radical change. Besides, you guys don’t have as many earthquakes as California does,” Jessie added with a smile, trying to ease the tension in the room. The woman remained as stone-faced and businesslike as ever. Just when she expected to be told that she’d receive a call if they had anything for her, the woman informed her that she would be cleaning chambers on the second floor from noon to four. “That’d be great,” said Jessie. The pay was even a little more than she had expected, and the hours were perfect. That way she could sleep in and get home before it got dark in the wintertime, wherever home ended up being. She hoped it wouldn’t be long before she could get an apartment, even if it meant a cheap, old, ugly, noisy studio for the time being. “Be here a half hour earlier tomorrow so you can be assigned to someone who will train you. You’ll work with them for your first day or two.” “Ok,” said Jessie. She rose from her chair, but the woman remained seated. When she failed to say anything else, Jessie said goodbye and left. The next morning she was told to go down to the basement and ask for Antoinette. She would be training her. “Just take the service elevator down there,” a young Black guy told her. Once she reached the housekeeping department, she asked a stout Black woman for Antoinette. “Antoinette, Antoinette… where she at,” the woman said, turning to look around the room in which several people were gathering supplies and dumping trash. “She be over there.” “Oh, ok, thank you.” “Uh-huh.” Jessie approached a very young and skinny-looking Black woman with beautiful white teeth and introduced herself. “Hi. Are you Antoinette?” “Sure am.” “Well, I guess you’re going to be training me today, from what I was told,” Jessie said with a smile. Antoinette smiled back and said, “You’re just in time for stocking up. Come on and I’ll show you the essentials.” Jessie followed the young girl. “It’s really pretty simple. It’s not like with hotels. All you’re going to do is basically dust, vacuum, and restock beverages.” “Beverages?” “The chambers all come equipped with coffeemakers as well as mini refrigerators. They need to be stocked with coffee, cream, sugar, water, soda, juices… that sort of thing.” “I see.” “The beverages that go in the fridge are kept on the floors the chambers are in. Down here we just stock up cleaning and coffee supplies. It’s also your job to clean the bathrooms in the center of each floor.” “How many chambers?” “In this district, there are 28 judges in all, 14 on the second floor and 14 on the third. We’ll be on the third floor today. There are seven chambers on each side of the corridor. Same with the second floor, which is where you’ll be working once you’re on your own tomorrow or the next day.” “Hard to believe cleaning 14 chambers and the bathrooms will take four hours to do.” “Oh, but it will,” Antoinette assured her. “Besides that, you’ll be vacuuming the hallway and it’s rather long.” “What task would you say takes the longest?” Jessie asked as they wheeled the cart into the service elevator. “The bathrooms?” “No. Probably the dusting. The chambers are both big and cluttered. Lots of shelves and all kinds of crap everywhere from books to knickknacks to papers.” The elevator doors opened to the third floor. The restrooms were right in front of it. “Well, I see where the bathrooms are.” Antoinette smiled and steered the cart right. “Just hit the bathrooms first, then start on one end of the chambers and do that whole side. After that, come down the other side.” “Ok.” “The most important thing to remember is not to touch anything on the desks. Nothing important, anyway. You can dust any photos, lamps, and things like that, but whatever you do, never touch or move papers, file folders, or documents.” “Ok,” Jessie said again. “Another important thing to keep in mind is that sometimes the judges may actually be in the chambers when you’re cleaning, so be sure you don’t do anything to disturb them.” “Sounds simple enough.” Jessie worked with Antoinette for two days and then she was on her own to clean the second-floor chambers come Thursday afternoon. The woman who had been assigned to that area had gone on maternity leave, and that was the reason she was able to fill the position as fast as she had. Luck and timing had been on her side where work was concerned, and each day that she didn’t hear from Maruja or anyone connected to her, she felt a little more confident that she wouldn’t be found. She did find it a bit odd, however, that there hadn’t been anything at all from her or anyone else urging her to return. No calls, no emails. Determined to put her life with Maruja behind her and cherish the memories she had with Calvin, Jessie found the work a bit boring, though simple enough. She listened to music through earbuds and was able to get lost in both her thoughts and the music as she went through the motions of dusting, vacuuming, spraying, wiping, and restocking. It wasn’t until she got to the last chamber of the day that things became interesting. She knocked on the door as she was instructed to, and when she got no answer, she unlocked the door and proceeded to clean around the coffeemaker and restock items in need of restocking. She was finishing up with the dusting when a different door to the large room opened up and in came a female judge that took Jessie’s breath away. “Hello, ma’am,” the judge said with a warm smile. Lightly Black, the judge was absolutely stunning. Her long black hair had auburn highlights and her nails were beautifully manicured. Even her designer glasses seemed glamorous, with tiny diamond-like gemstones stringing across the tops of the lenses. She was a little taller than Maruja at five-five or five-six and appeared to be around her own age. She might’ve been a bit top heavy—it was hard to tell under her black robe—but Jessie didn’t care. The woman was absolutely beautiful. “Oh, hi there,” Jessie said. The judge’s makeup was expertly applied and her white teeth glowed as she smiled. “I take it you’re the new girl.” “Yeah, that’s me. I’m Jessie.” “Jessie?” Jessie nodded. “Well, nice to meet you, Jessie,” said the judge as she took a seat at her desk. Jessie had noticed the name on the door was Judge N. K. Hollins. “You may call me Nia,” said the judge. “Nice name,” Jessie said, remembering that she still had to finish dusting the room. “You new here?” the judge asked. Jessie turned back to face the beautiful judge, who peered over the rim of her glasses at her. The question surprised her because once she introduced herself she hadn’t expected the conversation to continue. “Sure am. I arrived from Southern California less than a week ago.” “Oh, wow. You’re lucky you found work so fast.” “Yes, I am.” “Any connections here?” “No, none.” “That must be a bit scary. You’re a long way from home.” “You could say it was a big and bold move, but it was time for a change.” The conversation paused and Jessie finished cleaning. “All done,” she said. “Why thank you, ma’am.” “You’re welcome. See you tomorrow. Well, if you happen to be in here at the time, that is.” “You never know, Miss Jessie. Have a great afternoon.” “You too.”