XVI. Jen and Violet Part II

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SIXTEEN. JEN AND VIOLET PART II

 A big part of Jen only really liked Steve because of his daughter

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A big part of Jen only really liked Steve because of his daughter. His daughter who needed a mother.

And I'm not sitting here writing this to say Jen will be Violet Harrington's new mother and everything will be bright and dandy. Because it won't. I'm saying this because Jen has always believed a daughter—a child, any child, needs their mother. Whether that mother is beyond extraordinary or whether she's horrid. Both types of mothers teach lessons to their kids, good and bad. It shows daughters what they should and shouldn't be when they're older.

Jen never needed her father. She still doesn't.

Because her mother, Jennifer, had done it all. She made sure her girls never had a reason to ask for a father and need him. Not even when the little girls at school asked why they didn't have a daddy at home.

And yes, maybe Jennifer did check out early. But she had done it when she knew her girls could carry themselves. They knew how to cook, make money, go on in school, drive. Alex had a job, Jen made that food on their table. It wasn't a lot, but it was something.

They didn't have to be Jennifer. They didn't have to spend nights with older grimy men at the trailer park for money to feed their kids. They didn't have to have two jobs. They didn't have to hurt like Jennifer once did.

(Jen still believes she's hurting. Even in death. Oh, Jenny, Mother..)

And Jen didn't want that for Violet. Simple. And it was clearer than day Nancy Wheeler was not going to give the small girl just that. Not because she was being malicious or cruel—simply because she wasn't made for a life like that, yet. Or maybe never. Who knows. But now wasn't the time.

Jen had been taking care of people her whole life. It's who she is.

Jen had woken up like she never had before.

It had been terrors of a missing Nancy and her yells, to her coming back covered in grime—sobbing her eyes out in Jonathan's arms. Jen had woken up with a rough flinch, cold skin, only to come face to face with a small girl.

Violet was standing on the couch cushion, her hands gently at the collar of Jen's sweater under her jean overalls.

"Violet, hello." The little girl babbled in return, coming down to her knees as she yanked herself closer to Jen. So incredibly close, like they were always meant to be this close.

Jen's arms laced around her gently, her cheek to Violet's head. Jen gasped a little as her gaze moved around, she caught sight of the weight on her legs. Steve was sleeping on her legs like a child. His hair a frantic boyish mess, his hands clutching her ankles as his head rested on the sides of her thighs.

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