"Little Miss Muffet, sat on her tuffet, eating her curds and whey.
Along came a spider, who sat down beside her,
and frightened Miss Muffet away." – Mother Goose

(Jenna's POV)

Today is bittersweet.

I'm moving from the only place I've ever known, into the unknown...not by choice though.

If I had my way, I'd stay here in my childhood home, where all of my memories are, but sadly...it is not to be.

Dad was killed several years ago in a car accident – I was 11 at the time. He was on his way home from working a double shift when he fell asleep at the wheel and hit a telephone pole.

He was such a great, easy going man, despite how hard he had to work at the steel factory.

And then two years ago, during my junior year of high school, mom was diagnosed with breast cancer.

She fought the good fight, and I did everything I could to help while also trying to finish school, but it finally took her from me as well.

I feel so alone in the world now...

After dad's passing, his funeral and burial expenses wiped out what little savings my parents had, not to mention that she had to take out a loan to cover the rest.

Money became even tighter when our already meager health insurance benefits through his job at the factory were cut.

Mom worked as a cook and housekeeper for crotchety, old Mrs. Leighton, as well as a few others around town while I done seamstress work after school and on weekends.

It wasn't much, but we got by...until she got sick.

Mom had taught me to sew when I was young and it's just something that I love to do and am good at.

We would also crochet and knit together whenever we had free time.

How I'll miss that...

Anyway, when she passed last month, the bank notified me that our house was severely in arrears, and began foreclosure proceedings.

I wish I'd known, so I wouldn't have been so blindsided by it all.

I mean, I knew we were poor, but I thought the house was at least paid for, seeing as how my parents had bought it close to 25 years ago.

However, it wasn't. As I looked through the paperwork, there were several times when my parents had taken small loans out against the house through the years, for things like my braces and retainers, when I broke my arm and my ankle while roller skating, the few family vacations that we took to places like the Grand Canyon, and summer camp for me, a few years in a row, because I wanted to fit in with the other kids my age. And then last, but not least, the loan mom had taken out for dad's funeral.   

I felt like shit, that my parents had sacrificed so much for me.

After dad passed, Mom kept up as best as she could, but eventually had let the house and tax payments go in order to afford the essentials – food, water, heat, keeping our old car going, my schooling...not to mention the mounting medical bills for mom's cancer that started pouring in.

Knowing how mom was, she was protecting me as much as she could...or at least thought she was.

I didn't have much to pack after the auction, although there are so many things I would've liked to have kept, but I didn't have a choice.

The auction was forced upon me and the proceeds were seized to go towards what was owed in back taxes and missed house payments.

Mom was somewhat of a pack rat, but unfortunately, most of it was considered junk, so it wasn't nearly enough to cover what was owed, let alone leave anything extra to cover mom's funeral expenses.

I did, however, manage to keep her old Singer sewing machine – the one I learned on and always sew with, as well as mom's sewing box and our family pictures, which I was thankful for nonetheless.

With nowhere to go, no family, and no college education, I began looking for live-in positions such as work as a nanny, housekeeper, cook, or seamstress...things I know, that doesn't require a degree.

I quickly learned that there wasn't much available out there in those fields, especially with the live-in option or anything nearby, and with my eviction date looming, I began to panic, not knowing what I was going to do.

At what seemed like the last minute, I was offered a job, oddly, all the way in Eastern Europe...Moldova to be exact.

I know I graduated high school by the skin of my teeth, due to the circumstances with my mom, but I had never heard of Moldova before.

I had to look it up.

And yes, it is in fact a country that borders both Romania and the Ukraine.

I was hesitant to accept the position at first, for several reasons...despite my desperation.

One, I had no idea how someone clear over in Moldova heard about my job inquiry, which I found a bit creepy. Two, traveling to a strange, foreign country, so far from home, that doesn't speak my language was and still is a very scary concept and three, I'm broke, so getting a passport and plane ticket was impossible and four...I'd be working for a single man.

I sadly declined his offer via email, but was shocked at how quickly he responded and told me that he would take care of everything.

The next day, an envelope sealed with a wax seal crest was delivered to my house. I had no idea people still used those...

I broke the seal to find one thousand U.S. dollars and a one-way, first class ticket to Moldova inside, along with handwritten instructions on fine, linen paper. He told me where to get my passport and how to ship any of my larger items ahead of my arrival, since I had also told him in my email that I had no clue about that stuff, never having traveled abroad or flown on a plane before.

His handwriting was very old fashioned looking, like calligraphy, wishing me a safe trip, and was signed, "Eagerly looking forward to your arrival. Warm Regards, – Nikolai Rykov".

It all gave me a really strange vibe that I couldn't quite identify and still can't, but I shook it off. After all, beggars can't be choosers.

I'm just thankful that I have someplace to go and money to live on until then, although I still can't believe that he sent me so much, especially since he also paid for my plane ticket, which I'm sure cost a pretty penny.

I'll just have to make sure that he deducts it from my pay in the future. I don't want to end up like me and my mother again, owing everyone and losing everything.

I look around our small, old house one last time, with tears streaming from my eyes – the well-worn carpet and linoleum, the dingy walls that show the outlines of where the pictures once hung, and the old kitchen appliances that mom cooked so many good, family meals on.

I pull a picture of mom out of my purse that I found on the floor earlier that must've fallen out of one of the albums. Dad had taken it while she was standing in the kitchen, so happy, healthy, and full of life.

How I wish I could stay...

I kiss it before returning it to my purse, and carry on with my final walkthrough.

As I pass my bedroom door, the old crystal doorknob catches my eye. It has always been loose...my father never having time to fix it and my mother and I not knowing how to fix an old mechanism like this.

I grab both sides of the knob and give it a sharp tug, pulling it apart, hitting my right hand into the door jamb.

"Owww!" I exclaim as pain radiates across my metacarpal bones as I shake it off.

Fuck...that's gonna leave a bruise...

I use my thumbnail to scrape the loose paint chips off of the metal, watching them fall to the floor...the last traces that I will ever leave behind here.

I slide the knob's mechanism together before putting it in my purse and sadly walking away...never to return.

I get into my mom's old car – a yellow 1972 Oldsmobile Cutlass 442 and attempt to start it up. It takes a few times before she comes to life. I push the accelerator a few times, revving the engine, helping it warm up while listening to the familiar rumble...letting it calm me.

It's old and rusty in a few spots, but it's a classic. My mom loved this beast and even named it Maggie.

I take a few deep breaths, smelling my mother's lingering scent mixed in with the cracked, aging leather seats, which brings a soft smile to my face amongst the sadness.

I caress the sun-faded steering wheel before putting the car in gear. It screeches loudly as I back out of the driveway. I guess my mom's old soap on the fan belt trick has finally worn off...

I head to Aimee's house – my one and only true friend.

Since I obviously can't take my mother's car with me, I made last minute arrangements to sell it to her uncle who collects and restores old cars.

I hate to part with it, but at least I know that it'll be going to someone who will take good care of it, and then afterwards, Aimee will drive me to the airport.

I take in the scenery as I drive. It's nothing special, just like the rest of this town, but it holds so many memories for me.

I eventually shake my head at myself, for acting as if I'll never come back. I might get over there and absolutely hate it...although I hope not, since I'm already in debt to the guy, for at least a thousand bucks, and again, I have no idea how much my plane ticket cost...

I pull up in front of her house and park on the street, so that I won't stain her parent's driveway, since this car leaks oil.

I let out a sad sigh as I grab my purse and exit the car.

I don't even get a chance to knock before Aimee flings the door open, sending her long, straight, strawberry blonde hair flying back before she pulls me into a fierce hug.

She's been away at college, at Indiana University, which is about three hours from here, but came home for the weekend, just to help me today.

We had always had plans to go to college together someday, but with me caring for mom until she died and the lack of money, I couldn't go.

"Jenna! I thought that was you!" she exclaims happily. "Are you excited for your big day?" she asks with a jubilant smile as we part.

"A little," I answer timidly. "I'm still more scared than anything," I tell her honestly as we head to her room.

"Oh poo!" she brushes it off. "Look at this as a great adventure," she smiles, looking deep in thought. "I wish I was going off to some unknown, exotic country, to work for a mysterious man. He's probably hot...and he certainly seems to have money. I'm jealous!"

"Knowing my luck, he's probably some old Moldavian pervert who smells like sauerkraut and lives in a shack," I scoff pessimistically as I flop down onto her bed. "And I'd hardly call a place exotic that borders the Ukraine and Romania. I'm most likely going to freeze my ass off."

"Stop," she scolds, pulling me upright. "Dracula is Romanian...duh! And you can't get any more exotic than that," she jokes. "I vant to sook jur bluud!" she exposes her teeth while trying to speak like Dracula, but fails miserably.

"You nut!" I exclaim as we laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. "It's Vlad the Impaler that's from Romania, by the way," I tell her.

"So...same thing," she rolls her eyes, giggling.

"I sure am gonna miss you," I tell her sincerely once our laughter dies down.

"Me too, but you were always cut out for so much more than this town," she smiles sadly.

We hug again and then part. "What are you wearing?" she asks, as if she's just now noticing.

Aimee has always been a girly girl while I've never really cared about that kind of stuff. I don't like to shop...I'd rather make my own unique clothing. Well...most of it anyway.

"Clothes," I answer sassily. "I'm going to be stuck on a 12 hour flight, so I wanted to be comfortable," I explain as I pluck at my hoodie.

"Ugh! What am I going to do with you? Have I not taught you anything?" she asks frustrated as she walks over to her closet that's still stuffed with clothing, despite living away from home now. "Screw comfort! You're going to be meeting this guy for the first time, and you only get one chance to make a first impression," she chides. "No wonder you've never had a boyfriend..." she mutters.

Lord, help me now...

She and I are about the same size, so she leafs through her closet like a madwoman and pulls out a pair of skinny jeans, a t-shirt, and a jacket. "Here...go change," she orders me, but I stand firm.

"Aimee, no," I shake my head. "Like I said, it's a long flight and I won't even be meeting Mr. Rykov until the following day. Not to mention that I'd have to ship your clothes back to you," I arch my brow. "So what I have on is just fine."

"Oh, alright," she whines petulantly, like a deflating balloon.

"Knock, knock!" Aimee's Uncle Rick calls out from the living room.

We walk out and greet him. "How's my girl doin'?" he asks as he pulls Aimee into a side-armed hug. He's a tall, southern, burly, middle-aged man who always has grease stained clothes on, since he lives and breathes old cars.

"I'm good, Uncle Rick," she smiles. "Just keep your grease to yourself," she says as she eyes his clothes, causing us to laugh.

"A little grease never hurt nobody," he teases her. "And how are you holdin' up, kiddo? Excited about your trip?" he asks me with a smile.

"Just nervous, but I'll be alright," I smile in return.

"That's normal, seein' as how you're goin' halfway around the world," he chuckles as Aimee and I nod.

"Well...I got your money right here – $6,500, just like we discussed," he says to me before counting it out into my palm.

I know it's worth a lot more, even in its current condition, but I didn't want to sell it to someone who would just part it out.

"Thank you," I whisper, overcome with emotion...selling the last link to my mother.

I shove the money into my purse before dabbing at my eyes with my sleeves. At least now I can pay mom's funeral and burial expenses off.

"Hey...I promise I'll take good care of it," he soothes and I nod absently before correcting him.

"Her...not it," I grin softly.

"Her..." he hums. "Does she have a name then?"

"Maggie," I answer.

"Then Maggie she shall stay," he assures me with a wink. "Do you have the title?"

"It's out in the glove box," I respond before going outside to retrieve it.

I step back inside and he hands me a pen, telling me where to sign.

It's done...she's his now.

I hand him the keys, trying to keep my tears at bay. He pats me gently on the shoulder and then asks if I have anything in the car that I need to get out.

I tell him that my luggage is in the trunk, which he kindly puts it into Aimee's trunk for me, but doesn't stay much longer, eager to get his new toy back to his shop.

"Tell your pops I'll be back later to get my truck," he tells Aimee before wishing me a safe trip and driving off in Maggie.

I sigh, watching as she disappears down the road, before turning back to Aimee, who's had her arm supportively wrapped around my shoulder. "We should get going," I say resignedly. "I've never flown before, so I should get there a little early."

"Let me grab my purse and lock the front door," she replies, giving me a small squeeze before jogging off inside.

She reemerges and we get into her Chevy Cruze, taking off towards the airport.

"Hey, if it's no problem, can we stop by Duncan's Funeral Home first?" I ask, knowing it's on the way.

"Sure...but why do you need to go there?" she asks confusedly as she flips through the radio stations.

"I need to give them the money that your uncle just gave me," I reply.

"Jenna...that money was supposed to be for you!" she cries indignantly.

"No it wasn't," I shake my head. "Her car was the only thing I had left that the bank or tax man didn't seize, and I have to finish paying for mom's funeral," I sigh. "I could only pay what little down that I had saved up before she died, and I had to sign a contract saying I'd pay the rest off within 90 days, even though I had no idea how or where I was going to get the money."

"They'll sue me, if I don't pay," I put my hands up, shrugging. "So...this money is for me, if you think about it," I finish.

"I guess so," she agrees halfheartedly. "If I'd have known, I would've started a GoFundMe for you."

She pulls up, parks in front of Duncan's, and I run inside to settle the bill.

Despite having a no-frills funeral, making mom's dress myself, and burying her beside dad in a plot that they'd already paid for, it still cost nearly $7,000.

I was shocked at how expensive it is to die.

I hand Mr. Duncan the money I'd received for the car, plus an additional $300 from the money that Mr. Rykov had sent.

I had paid $200 down when I had made the arrangements – almost all of the money I had saved up recently.

I take the receipt and walk back out to Jenna's car feeling lighter, now that the debt isn't hanging over my head anymore.

As we head for the airport, I mentally calculate how much money I have left to get started on.

Out of the $1,000, I spent close to $250 total on one of those rolling suitcases, a carry-all bag, a new winter coat and shoes, new panties and a few bras, as well as some new, winter clothing, so that I could stay warm and look professional in my new position, since most of my clothes are either old or homemade.

I then spent $50 on necessities such as gas and food, and close to $100 shipping my mother's sewing machine, sewing box, and photo albums ahead to Moldova.

I also had to pay for my passport, which was $145 at the local post office, and an additional $12 at Walgreens for my passport photo.

Add in the $300 I just paid towards my mother's funeral expenses...and that leaves me with about $140 bucks to live on until I get my first paycheck.

But I should be alright since all of my living expenses will be taken care of by Mr. Rykov.

He said I will be living in his gatehouse, whatever that is, and will be welcome to come up to the main house for my meals, if I want, which I just might have to take him up on that, no matter how uncomfortable I'll be eating with a complete stranger.

I pull my cellphone out of my pocket, looking at the time. I have to board the plane in 40 minutes.

"Be sure to put it on airplane mode when you board," Aimee tells me after glancing over at my phone, which is her old iPhone that she had given me when she got her new one.

I nod as we pull into the airport's parking lot.
She parks and then opens her trunk, so that I can grab my things.

"Is this all you're bringing?" she asks incredulously, looking at my new rolling suitcase and bag.

"Yep," I smile triumphantly. "I'm not a clothes horse like you," I stick my tongue out at her.

I remember the doorknob in my purse and quickly place it into my suitcase as I don't want to be accused of bringing a weapon onto the plane.

"Aww...you took your old doorknob," Aimee smiles softly. "Remember when we were little and used to pretend that it was a real diamond?" she asks wistfully with a giggle, reminiscing.

"Yeah, from our Prince Charming," I laugh. "I couldn't leave it behind."

She takes my bag as I pull my suitcase along.

We arrive inside and I check in, before heading towards the first-class lounge.

"And this is where I leave you," I say sadly as my eyes begin to tear up. "I wish you could stay with me until I board."

"I know...don't cry," she replies with tears welling up in her eyes as well before dropping my bag and pulling me into another one of her fierce hugs.

She releases me and dabs at her eyes before a mischievous look crosses her face. "I can't believe that you're flying first-class, ya ho," she laughs, trying to lift our heavy mood. "I've never got to fly first-class!"

"In order to be a ho, I'd actually have to have sex first," I say quietly before chuckling.

"True," she chimes in a singsong voice.

"That reminds me...how are you and that "hunkity hunk", as you called him, that you met at that mixer party doing? What's his name...Keith?" I goad teasingly, turning the tables on her.

"Kirk," she rolls her eyes. "We've hung out a few times, but he's a poli-sci guy," she grimaces. "All he wants to talk about is politics. And on our first date, instead of flowers, he brought me a MAGA hat," she huffs.

"Hot," I giggle. "You never know...maybe he'll be president someday and you will be our first lady," I wiggle my brows.

"Right..." she rolls her eyes again. "Besides, you'll be a Moldavian by then."

"Nah...I'll always be an American, first and foremost," I assure her.

"Whatever, Miss America," she laughs, giving me a light shove. "Be sure to call me when you get there."

"I will, but just so you know, I'll be seven hours ahead from now on," I warn.

"I don't care, just call me," she shrugs with a smile. "Later, alligator," she says sadly as I pick my bag up. "Be safe."

"You too," I say as I kiss her cheek. "Thanks for everything," I tell her sincerely before turning and walking away...ready to embark on this unknown journey.

A/N : Howdy, all of my monstermance freaks & lovers! 👋🏻 I told you that I was going to start writing my spider story soon, & here it is! Some of you challenged me and said that I could not make you fall in love with a spider. Well, I sure am gonna try, even while writing with one eye right now! 😂

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