“I—”
“Save it. I’ll leave once you and your mom leave. Here’s the dress she wants you to wear,” I say, grabbing the little black dress and handing it to her.
She looks like she wants to say more, but keeps looking at her bedroom door.
Penny grabs my shirt at the hem, tossing it off and throwing her dress on no bra, and shimming her panties off to exchange it for another pair in her drawer. She works quickly. Redoing her hair in the mirror and trying to apply some makeup on her face.
I sit in the closet like the dirty little secret I am and for the first time since we started whatever this is, I find myself resenting her for it.
She gives me one last sad look before leaving the room, and I decide that maybe I’m fucking done chasing a woman who doesn’t want me.
23
NO MATTER WHAT
My motherand I sit down at her favorite waterfront restaurant and she taps her nails against the table.
“Please tell me you’re not seeing that man who has the reptiles again,” she says, referring to Johnathon.
I grimace, remembering how I had to pretend to like snakes, so he thought I was interesting. But he had a nice house and wasn’t an animal abuser, quite the opposite. God, my bar is seriously in the pits of Hell.
“Ew, no.”
“Oh, good. He was probably my least favorite,” she says.
I know she doesn’t mean it as a dig, but it feels that way. My face must look dejected as she reaches across the table and grabs my hand.
“I didn’t mean it like that, Pen. You’re just my beautiful, brilliant daughter. I want to see you with someone who knows that as well as I do. You’re my most treasured person. I love you so much.”
I grab the napkin, totally over being a cry baby lately, but life has seriously been kicking my ass. Crying in a public place is extra sickening, and I try to rein it in.
My mom’s eyes widen as she looks at me blot the corner of my eyes.
“This isn’t like you, sweetheart. Tell me what’s going on.”
I look across the table at my beautiful mother, who’s never asked for anything, who only gives. Part of me doesn’t want to tell her anything because I don’t want her to have to shoulder the burden. Hasn’t she done enough already?
“You’re scaring me,” she says and I shake my head.
I spill my guts and tell her everything about the PI, my birth mother’s letter, my letter to her, and what happened last night.
She rounds the table and gives me a hug so motherly I nearly combust. If I lost this? If she didn’t look at me the same anymore, I don’t know that I’d survive.
“I’m so sorry, Penelope,” she whispers in my hair, holding me tight. “I wish you would have told me at your place. We didn’t have to come here,” she says, retaking her seat and blotting her eyes with a napkin. “I always hoped I would get to thank her one day for giving me you.” I try to rein in my emotions as my phone buzzes.
Lincoln
I’m out of your apartment. I won’t bother you anymore.
I stare down at the phone and re-read the words. It’s what I wanted, right? For this thing between us to end and clear my conscience? Yet, why does it feel like the deepest heartbreak I’ve ever felt?
“Penny,” my mother says my name. She must have said it a few times as I look up at her. “Please tell me there isn’t something else?” she asks.
“No mom, there’s nothing else,” I lie, my heart breaking over mid-day mimosas and a turkey club sandwich.
A whole monthwithout Lincoln and my heart aches. I thought that distance would help, but it’s only made me miss him more.
I thought Lincoln was full of shit, that he would come knocking on my door in the middle of the night telling me we belong together, but he hasn’t. He’s kept his promise of staying away, and I feel guilty that I wish he hadn’t.
