Trigger Warning: This is the only trigger warning you will get for the entire story. There are mental health issues, suicidal ideation, violence, and sexual content. At a future point, the rating will go up to M, so if you'd like to keep track of it, you should probably follow.
That said, at the time of posting it, it is the only Waitress fanfic on this site (you're welcome for the bugging I had to do with the admin for this). I will include occasional Author's notes addressing any questions from you guys if you post them, but otherwise I'll try to keep them limited as I feel they distract from the story itself. Comments/Favorites are my crack, so please leave as many as you like. Thanks, and enjoy!
Lulu's cries were obnoxious, penetrating the still, quiet air of the bedroom. Jenna sat up in her bed, rubbing her head. She had been in that dozing, half-awake state for nearly an hour, unable to sleep but also unable to move. She looked at the crib at the foot of the bed with distaste—why did the baby have to cry all the goddamn time? Lulu's squalling only increased in volume, so Jenna scooched herself towards the foot of the bed and lifted her baby half-heartedly, holding her against her chest and rocking slightly. She remembered in the hospital when this felt like the sun shining on her face; like warmth and peace and happiness. Now it felt like a lumpy, kicking bag of potatoes that was wetting her shirt.
"Jenna, dinner's ready!" Ogie's voice called from down the hallway. Jenna felt her chin wobble as Lulu's tears began to subside. How could she face them? Another day wasted, lying here in her room doing nothing but feeding and changing a baby that wouldn't stop fucking crying anyways. But Ogie had cooked. So she had to. What kind of guest was she, otherwise? Jenna hid her face as she entered the dining room, trying not to bring down the atmosphere with her sadness. She held Lulu gently away from herself, a mix of pain in her overly chapped nipples and type of unexplainable anger that made her want to be nowhere near her own daughter.
Lately, she hadn't been able to keep the tears from coming, or the strange resentment she felt towards Lulu from overpowering her in waves. Ogie and Dawn had her set up in their guest room—which they had graciously cleared of boxes from their move—and never once complained or expected her to begin cooking or doing chores. It had been two months since Lulu was born now, and she had yet to find an apartment, or lift a finger to help them. The guilt ate at her every day as she lay there, struggling to even feed and hold her own child.
Today she had spent a few hours halfheartedly searching apartment listings, trying to be real with herself about her price range and what that meant for her and her baby. It was looking more and more like she was going to have to have cockroaches for roommates or be content with hearing gunshots every night.
Earl had stopped by, as he did every few days. Thankfully, today was a drunk day, so after a few minutes of banging on the door he broke down in tears, lamenting over how Jenna had never really loved him in the first place. It was worse on the sober days, when he would bang on the door for hours, threatening to kill Jenna or hurt Lulu. She was just grateful Dawn and Ogie hadn't been there to be bothered by it; she hated the baggage she brought with her. It was humiliating.
Now, without even knowing why she was so goddamn sad, just the thought of trying to smile and pretend she was ok in front of Dawn and Ogie choked a sob out of Jenna's throat. She tried to stifle it with a cough as she walked into the dining room. Ogie was entirely too perceptive, however, and he looked at her curiously upon hearing the strangled noise that emerged from her throat.
"Oh Jenna, what's wrong?" he asked, his southern drawl pulling on the words. Dawn looked up in alarm and let out a small yelp as she saw Jenna's face.
"Oh hun, give her here!" Dawn held out her little arms and Jenna practically dumped Lulu in them, barely sparing a second thought for supporting her head and neck before stepping back gingerly, wiping frantically at her cheeks to get the tears away. What was wrong with her?
"I'm uh, I'm fine. Just hormones, ya know?" Jenna tried to laugh to make it seem like a joke, but she only sobbed more. "I'm sure I'll be fine, I just need a minute." Her quavering, choked voice implied otherwise and she knew it.
"How about you go on a walk? It's been a while since you've had any baby-free time. Go get some fresh air; we'll feed Lulu and save you a plate." Ogie offered, concern written plainly in his features.
"I'm fine, I'll just go splash some water on my face and be right back," Jenna promised.
"Nuh-uh," Dawn piped up, not lifting her eyes from Lulu's little face as she spoke. "You sound exhausted, and you haven't been letting us help at all lately with this one. We've got her. You go take a breather. Seriously. Go." Dawn's voice when she tried to be serious was almost comical. Jenna felt her heart ache, watching Dawn rock and smile at her baby. Why couldn't she do that?
"Ok yeah, I think that might be good," she choked, trying to stifle another sob. She was out the door in seconds, Dawn and Ogie's wide eyes following her progress. She slammed the door shut and stood for a second in shock. Before her tears could seize her completely, she set off, walking nowhere in particular.
What was happening to her? She couldn't get out of bed some days if she wanted to, and the sight of her own baby filled her with loathing, and her self-reliant identity had faded into nothingness, leaving her depending on Dawn and Ogie to keep her alive. Every day she hated herself for it, but opening her laptop itself seemed exhausting, no matter looking at apartments and calculating budgets in her head and comparing it to her pathetically small bank account. Buying out of the lease she had signed with Earl was a nightmare and had left her damn near penniless. She had half-heartedly fought Dawn and Ogie to let her pay rent, but their winning was honestly a relief—at what they were giving her, she could only afford a month or so more before she would be out on the street.
Jenna knew Ogie and Dawn meant she could stay as long as she wanted when they invited her, but she couldn't help but feel like a terrible drain on them, mooching off their food and taking over their guest room and never cooking or cleaning. She spent each day wringing her hands, fearing that when they returned from work they would secretly resent her for still being there, for sitting on her ass all day while they functioned in the real world. Jenna had also started keeping herself up at nights, not wanting Lulu's cries to disturb them—they were kind about saying they didn't mind, but each time Jenna would watch them yawn or see the circles under their eyes after a particularly bad night, the guilt would drive deeper into her like a knife. Instead, she would sit in her bed, staring through the dark at Lulu's crib, rocking herself gently in this coma-like state of awareness. Each time Lulu roused, she would feed her and lay her back down, then return to her sentry's post. She couldn't recall the last time she'd gotten more than an hour or two of sleep in a night.
Earl only made things worse. Each time he showed up was a mix of terror and guilt and shame for Jenna as he would berate her through the door. Dawn and Ogie had only been there a few times for it, and she had stopped telling them about it after the second time he came—if they knew he was there so often, they'd worry or want her to go to the police.
They were trying to do something kind to help her get back on her feet and she was taking advantage of them and languishing, struggling so hard with caring for her own child, something that should be instinctual.
On the bedside table in her room, the pink envelope from Joe sat collecting dust. Jenna had no idea what to do with the money he had left her. It sat in a special account, not touching her own meager funds, taunting her. She still didn't consider it her own—it's presence did nothing to alleviate her financial concerns. It wouldn't last, after all, if she continued like this, surviving instead of rejoining the real world. Spending her days trapped inside a ten by ten prison, having Lulu suck on her like a parasite and stink up diapers. Jenna's tears intensified again as she walked, just thinking about changing another diaper. Why should caring for her own baby sound so revolting to her? The tears came again, rolling down her cheeks and choking her.
She walked like that, the guilt and pain and shame and confusion of it all just wracking her body, ricocheting around in her mind and blinding her. Eventually, with her head throbbing and her body practically shaking, she had to stop, bent at the waist, trying to gather breath. After a minute, when her head stopped spinning, she stood up to take stock of where she was.
The sun was beginning to dip in the sky, and Jenna did a double take when she saw the sign in front of her: Stanton Grove. Had she really walked that far? She checked the watch on her wrist and did another double-take: it had been an hour and a half. She had completely lost track of time, and just dumped Lulu on Dawn and Ogie without even asking, probably ruining their entire dinner. She reached to her back pocket for the little cell phone she'd gotten recently and felt her hand cup her ass before realizing she'd left it at home. With her wallet.
Jenna began pacing on the sidewalk. What an idiot. She had no money, no phone, and no idea how she had walked so far in her stupor. Dawn and Ogie had no idea where she was and were just left with Lulu. They had let her stay with them, not signed up to be baby-sitters for her.
With the sun going down around her, she knew it wouldn't be safe to try and find her way back home in the dark. Across the street, Jenna saw a bus stop sign mounted on a light pole. Maybe if she begged the bus driver and explained her situation, she could get a ride home for free and pay later. Maybe. If not, she was screwed.
Checking both ways quickly, Jenna walked across the street and plopped herself down on the little bench under the street lamp. The exhaustion hit her like a brick wall and she slumped in her seat, still shaking gently. She didn't understand how she could go from feeling so sad to so utterly. . .empty.
The chill of nightfall hit her quickly in her ratty old t-shirt and jeans, and she wrapped her arms around herself as her shakes turned to shivers. She had never taken this bus line from this far out, and she had no idea what time to expect the bus. Maybe it was too late at night, and one wasn't going to come anyways, leaving her stranded and alone. She didn't know what she would do if one didn't come. The idea of being left in the middle of nowhere caused her to blanch.
She could picture the headline: Single Mother Found off Highway 128, Stabbed 17 Times, Leaves Behind Two Month Old. To be honest, Lulu would be lucky if she died. Maybe Dawn and Ogie would take her in and Ogie's tax-auditing money would send her to school with new clothes and toys. Maybe she'd get put in the system and a rich family would adopt her and take care of her, maybe even send her to private school. Anything would be better than being trapped with a dead-beat mom like her, unable to even return to work, much less find a place for them to live.
Her internal rhetoric began once more, hurling abuse at herself for what she had done to her child. Was Earl really that bad? Asking the question brought the tears back, and Jenna felt herself beginning to snuffle again, hunched over, when she heard footsteps behind her. Quickly, she wiped at her cheeks, trying to compose herself—the people in Stanton Grove were rich, and she didn't want them thinking she was some crazy homeless lady. She would never get on the bus that way. The footsteps stopped off to her right and Jenna fixed her gaze on the concrete sidewalk in front of her, determined not to reveal her tear-stained face to the stranger, to seem sane and normal.
"Jenna?"
Oh shit.