“Pfft, Lance, please. Lance is a distraction. She lovesyou. Oh Gavin, what am I going to do? How am I going to take care of these girls?”
“You just will. You have to.”
She wiped the tears from her eyes and squared her shoulders. “I just have to. You’re right. I need to give Penny more. I’ve neglected her, too. I’ve poured everything into Kiki.”
“Stop beating yourself up, Anne. No one could have predicted this. He was so young.”
“He was our rock.”
“You’ll be the rock now.”
She nodded, and I could sense her resolve.
THE NEXT MORNINGI took a cab to get my car and bring back chicken soup from a deli near Penny’s house. Penny, Anne, and Kiki thanked me endlessly. I told them I had to get home and feed Jackie Chan, but I promised to come back later.
The truth was that I hadn’t spoken to Lottie since I’d dropped her off at her apartment. I had thirteen voicemails from her. I did text her to tell her I was okay, and that I had a family emergency, but I waited until I was in my apartment to call her back.
“What the fuck, Gavin?” she said the minute she answered the phone.
“I’m sorry, Lottie. Penny’s dad died right after commencement.”
The phone went quiet for several moments. “You said family emergency.” She didn’t bother asking what happened. That should have been a red flag, but in the moment, I was too exhausted to notice.
“They’re like family,” I told her.
“Hmm, well, okay... Tell her I’m very sorry.” She huffed into the phone. “But I need you too, Gavin. Can I come over?”
Maybe she’s going to break up with me.
“Okay.”
I rushed around, making sure there was no evidence of Penny. When the doorbell rang, I opened it and said, “If you’re going to start a fight with me, can you let me shower first? I’ve been running around the whole day.”
She started untying her long black coat to reveal nothing but a matching lace bra and panty set underneath. “Why don’t we shower together?”
She walked past me into the living room. I closed the door and followed her toward the bathroom.
22.Fourteen Years Ago
PENNY
In the days following my father’s death, my mother flip-flopped between crying and getting shit done. She had my father cremated, planned his service, cried, went through all of their finances, cried, called the lab, cried, went to Home Depot to buy a gallon of paint, cried, painted her bedroom like a crazy person, and cried some more. Kiki and I helped.
When we were done, she stepped back to admire our work. “Shall we paint the whole house?” she asked.
That’s exactly what we did. It was my mother’s own brand of bereavement therapy, and Kiki and I were happy to go along with it. I hobbled around, filling up pans, while she and Kiki painted. Gavin popped in periodically, and Lance came over to help for a few days, too. I was amazed by how patient Lance was with me. He never pushed me for anything more, even after I had surprised him with a kiss on graduation day. Even though I still didn’t feel a spark between us, I was comforted by his solid presence. I was even coming to rely on him.
WE HELD MYfather’s service on a beautiful lakeshore just outside of Fort Collins. Gavin played my dad’s favorite song, “Hey Jude,” on his Telecaster. Everyone cried.
Kiki spoke for all of us. After all, she was the best public speaker in the family, even at her young age. My mom helped her write the eulogy. I don’t know who added it, but there was a line in there that said, “My dad loved us all, and he loved his job. But his favorite thing in the whole world was watching my sister dance. She’s such a beautiful dancer, and my dad was so proud of her.” My stupid knee ached at the words.My dad was so proud of her.I broke down.
This time, Lance was there to comfort me. Gavin and Lottie were there, too, but in the back row. My mother, stoic, sat on the other side of me. Ten days of huffing paint and crying had made her zombielike. How the hell Kiki pulled that eulogy off without falling apart, I’ll never know. I guess all of her pageant training was paying off in ways I hadn’t expected. I certainly wouldn’t have been able to stand in front of a crowd and speak about my father without crumbling into a ball and turning to dust myself.
A MONTH BLURREDby. My father had a great life insurance policy, thank God, enough for Kiki to go to college and my mom to pay off the house—but not enough to set them up long-term. My mom would have to get a job. The lab, fortunately, adored my father and offered my mother a well-paying secretarial position. She’d never had a job in her life, but she was grateful.
I’d never realized how brave my mother was, and my respect for her grew with each day after my father’s passing. She funneled all of her pageant energy into being a strong woman and mother. She refused to be defined by her grief and widowhood.
I, on the other hand, fell apart on the daily: at physical therapy, in my room alone, and especially when I was with Gavin.
