The Greatest Penny Luck Collection

Another one!  That made 45 cents for the day. How people could walk by when there was money, actual money, on the ground was something she couldn’t understand. Why, she found enough in a week or two to buy a lottery ticket!  That was her budget:  only money found on the ground. That made for the best luck possible, and didn’t take anything away from the regular household.

That was one thing she never thought she’d have:  a household. A house and people to hold.

The bus stopped and Holly got on. That was one of the numbers they’d run one night:  would it be better to take the bus or to have two cars? The cars gave flexibility but then there was maintenance, insurance, gas; there were repairs and there was the daily commute that had her reaching work with teeth gritted and both hands clutching the wheel. As long as there was one car then one of them could deal with any home emergencies and Lord knows there’s always plenty to be had. She’d done her research and found the Employer Community Pass page; how lucky that she’d been able to talk Steve into buying a community pass for her and Sheila and Greg. Without that, taking the bus would be twenty times more expensive. Sometimes she and Sheila took the bus downtown to sit and people watch and eat their lunches.

And bus stops were lucky:  she almost always found some change, carelessly spilled, not worth the slight energy to pick up. It was worth it to her.  It’s not that there were careless people there were people who were careless about things.  She never wants others to judge her based on one action.  Or inaction.

She learned how to take action when she ran away from Mom and Dad.  Why would a woman lock a six-year old girl out of the house?  Why would a father tolerate that?  And when she got older the constant reminders in her ear:  you’re no good; no one will want you except to fuck and leave; you’re a moron who can’t even do the dishes right.  She did judge her dad, she guessed.  On his inaction.

At least with hitchhiking, there was the chance that someone might be nice to her.  And there again she was lucky.  She knew the odds were against her and she stopped once she got to Omaha.  That would be a good city, she thought; all midwestern and corn-fed.  She liked corn.  But Omaha had its share of bad boyfriends and abortions and drugs and alcohol.  She at least never drank or drugged:  she knew that would take away all self-respect and that was the one thing she owned outright with no debt to someone else.

One time she’d gone for two months without a job and they were the worst two months of her life:  worse than when Mom hit her and said she wished she’d never had a kid and why did that loser talk her out of an abortion, worse than when daddy looked at her without hope and pulled another beer out of the fridge.

Holly sat, knitting.  That was about the only thing Mom gave her, the knowledge to knit and purl and drop a stitch at exactly the right time. She liked picking out the colors at garage sales:  every Friday she’d check the garage sales lists for people who had let their houses and minds get cluttered with one-day-I’ll-do-it projects. Usually the yarn was acrylic, so unless she couldn’t resist the color she’d pass; but sometimes there’d be wool; and last weekend, treasure!  Skein after skein of silk in shimmering colors. She’d bought them all.

She looked down at the small hat she was knitting. It was acrylic; but then, babies didn’t need wool and silk on their heads.  How she was lucky enough to bear a child after what she’d put her ladyparts through she’ll never know.

Thank goodness John’s company provided health insurance.  Steve was a good employer and she’d learned everything she knew about accounting from his wife – now his ex-wife; now she was the full charge bookkeeper and had the pleasure of making things balance daily.  She didn’t know why only college counted as education.  She’d learned a hell of a lot when she was scared and homeless and now there was always the library if she wanted to know something, like What To Expect When You’re Expecting and The First Twelve Months of Life.

Steve said she could do the books from home once she was past the first month of momhood.  She was still thinking about it.

Holly got off the bus.  The store she bought tickets at was just down and on the left.  She chose the Powerball:  hey, it had been a good month for change.  As she walked out with a little bit of hope in her pocket she thought:  Maybe that’s what we’ll name the baby.  Hope.