by Sami Lee
“What are you doing here?” Penny asked, her look of shock encompassing both her sisters.
“I called Summer and asked her how you were today,” Hope said as she sidled into the booth opposite Penny. Emily came around and sat beside her. “She said you looked like shit.”
“What I said was you looked miserable,” Summer corrected as she approached the table and sat beside Hope. Or tried to. Her stomach was too big for the booth seat. Jasmine got her a chair from a nearby table and told her to sit on that while she took the booth seat beside Hope.
Penny cast a sideways glance at Emily. “And you’re here because…?”
“Hope called me.”
Her gaze passed over Jasmine, who shrugged. “I just have lucky timing. I love an intervention.”
“A what?”
Penny glared at Hope, who stared back unrepentantly. “I decided Friday-night drinks wasn’t soon enough. You were moaning on the phone this morning.”
“I was not moaning.”
“Wailing then. Sort of crying but with this high-pitched ooooooh sound.”
“Oh, was it sort of like this?”
Emily made a sound in the back of her throat, like she was trying to clear something out of it. Hope frowned at her. “No, you sound like you have a phlegm issue. Penny sounded worse.”
“Like a wolf howling at the moon?” Jasmine offered.
“More like a wolf that’d been shot and left in the woods to die.”
Summer bestowed a sympathetic look on Penny. “Oh, Pen. You could have taken the day off, you know.”
“I didn’t need the day off,” Penny said through gritted teeth. She cast a look around the group of women. “And I do not need an intervention.”
Emily covered Penny’s hand with hers. “Pen, I know this look. I’ve felt like how you look. You’re miserable, and it’s obviously got something to do with Greg.”
“Hope’s been filling you in, huh?” Penny deduced.
“I told her you’d finally picked one who didn’t seem to be a loser,” Hope said. “But I’d be willing to revise my opinion if he’s responsible for making you wail like a dying wolf.”
“I did not wail!” Penny crossed her arms over her chest and flopped back against the booth seat. “I couldn’t quite control the urge to cry when you mentioned him, that’s all.”
A chorus of gently murmured uh-huhs sounded from each of the other four women. It was like a meeting of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood.
“But I’m fine,” Penny insisted. “It’s better if I keep busy. I need to go back to work and…”
“Penny,” Summer said gently. “I don’t think you realize how invested we all are in seeing you find the right guy. We want to help.”
“Yeah, you dragged me into your love life months ago, and it’s like The Bachelorette,” Jasmine said. “I need to see how this ends.”
Summer hit Jasmine on the arm. Jasmine protested and rubbed the sore spot. Then the waitress came over with a tray full of mugs, and there was the usual jostling as each person confirmed what they’d ordered. When at last everyone had the correct drinks and cakes in front of them, they all turned to Penny expectantly.
Emily was the one to prompt, “Well?”
Penny sighed and let it all out, the abridged version anyway. There was obviously no getting out of it, and actually she felt bolstered by the support of such good, strong women, her sisters and friends. It meant a lot that they cared about her. This was the kind of support healthy relationships could provide. Didn’t Greg see what he was missing out on?
When Penny was finished with her story, right up until the point that Greg walked out of her house, promising to give them time, a silence descended on the group. Penny took a long sip of her tea, thirsty from all the talking. When she looked up, they were all staring at her, their expressions ranging from blank to mystified to…
Cranky. That last one was Hope’s. Of course. And of course, she was the first to speak.
“What the fuck’s wrong with you?”
Penny flinched, taken aback. “Huh?”
“Do you know what I would have given for Dylan to once, just once, say he loved me?”
“He never did?” Penny asked, appalled.
“Nope. He hinted at it vaguely with questions, like ‘you know how I feel about you, right?’ and ‘what would I do without you?’ etcetera. But unequivocal statements about his emotions? Too damn hard for the monster-wave rider.”
“It took Brand two years to tell me he loved me,” Emily chipped in. “I knew he did, but saying the words was hard for him.”
“What are you telling me?” Penny asked in frustration. “That I should have ignored the fact the thought of getting married makes him break out in hives and let myself love a guy who’ll never go there? Who might not be over his ex?”
“No, you can’t ignore that,” Summer said gently. “But perhaps demanding he commit to marrying you was a bit of a stretch.”
“I didn’t. I told him I didn’t want to get married right now, but I needed to be with someone who at least wanted to want to marry me someday. That’s completely different.”
“Ah, not really,” Hope said. “Guys hear the word ‘marriage’ and it always makes them pee their pants, no matter what the context. Bringing it up two weeks in is kind of a no-no.”
Penny stared at them all, her sisters and supposed friends. So much for the support of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. “You all think I’m wrong.”
“I don’t.” It was Jasmine who’d spoken, and everyone turned to stare at her. Jasmine stared back defiantly. “What? I can’t have an opinion? The guy told her he loved her before she was ready. A dumb move on his part. When Aaron dropped those words on me, I freaked out too. I ran.”
“You almost lost him forever,” Summer pointed out. “And you pissed me off as well.”
“There’s that,” Jasmine conceded. “I had to fight hard to get him back. But rejecting a guy’s love is a completely valid form of behavior.” Jasmine pinned Penny with a dark, challenging stare. “If you want to be an emotional screwup like I was.”
Penny looked at the beautiful woman sitting on the other side of the table, with her long, glossy dark hair and striking face and the sexy red blouse she wore with such confidence. No doubt, she was a looker. However… “No offense, Jas, but I’ve never once wanted to be like you.”
Jasmine smiled a little, unoffended. “In that case you’d better grow a vagina and go talk to the guy.”
Summer, who’d just taken a sip of her chai latte, almost choked on it. “Grow a vagina?” she repeated, coughing.
“It’s never made sense that they say grow some balls.”
“She’s right,” Emily agreed. “Balls are sensitive—vaginas are tough.”
“You ought to know, Miss Two at a Time,” Hope teased.
Emily showed her sister a smug look. “You sound jealous.”
“Bloody oath I am.”
“Do you think you could all stop talking for two damn seconds?” Penny broke in, irritated. “A girl can’t hear herself think.”
A hush fell over them while Penny scrambled to get her bearings. She’d screwed up, that’s what they were all telling her. Greg had said he loved her, and like Jasmine had with Aaron, she’d run. Not physically, but in her mind. She loved him too, she’d known that before he even said those words, but saying them back was…
“I know it’s scary,” Emily said, as though reading her mind. “Because from what I hear, Greg is a grownup. And if you love him too, as I’m guessing you do, that means you’ll have to be a grownup too. You’ll have to let go of this image you have of yourself that you’re the family screwup, the one who can’t quite get it together. It’s not true, Penny. I’ve never thought that about you.”
Emily covered Penny’s hand on the tabletop, and to her surprise, Hope
reached for her other one. “She’s right. If anyone’s the family screwup, it’s the girl with the sleeve tattoos and still no full-time job.”
“Are you kidding?” Emily challenged. “I’m bringing two boyfriends home for Christmas this year. Let’s see how Dad handles that before we make final judgment on who’s the screwup here.”
“Oh shut up, Em. You’re too deliriously happy to give a shit what anyone thinks, even Dad.”
“Will both of you quit it?”
Penny’s brusque demand made both her sisters clamp their mouths shut. She might have enjoyed that a moment, if her heart wasn’t racing a mile a minute. She’d messed up. She’d told Greg he was rushing things, and then she’d asked him if he’d be prepared to marry her. He must think she was a crazy person. No wonder he wasn’t contacting her. He was probably rethinking the whole thing, questioning why on earth he’d said he loved her in the first place. Questioning their entire affair.
Wondering if he’d made a mistake letting Rochelle go so easily.
Penny’s stomach roiled. God, she was stupid. She reached for her phone but thought better of it. Greg’s office was only a couple of blocks away. She had to do this face to face. She tapped Emily on the arm impatiently. “Get out of my way.”
“You’re going to go see him?” Emily asked as she shuffled out of the booth.
“I’m going to go see him.”
“Go, Pen,” Hope said, grinning.
“Thank you, all of you.” Penny looked around at the group of women. “I think.”
She bolted out of the café and hurried up the street to the dental surgery, above which the law office of Gregory Danvers, Solicitor was situated. She ran up the stairs and broke into the small reception area with a wild swinging of the glass door. The girl Penny had met at the movies, Charlotte, looked up from the desk. “Oh, hi, whistle girl.”
You’re the reason he’s been whistling. Penny’s heart lifted. He did love her. He’d told her he was happy when he was with her. He’d said he’d needed her during that last raw encounter, and he hadn’t merely meant he needed her sexually. Because it had never been just sex for him. For her either. She could admit that because she was growing a vagina and admitting how she really felt.
“I need to see Greg,” she burst out, suddenly dying to see him. To apologize for being a ninny and ask for a do-over. This time when he said he loved her she’d say I love you too. I don’t know how it’s all going to work out yet, but I love you too.
Charlotte’s words burst Penny’s bubble. “He’s not here.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders drooped. “Do you know how long he’ll be gone?”
“I’m not sure, he didn’t come in yesterday either. Canceled all his appointments.”
A cold wave washed over Penny. “That’s not like him.”
“No,” Charlotte agreed.
“Is he sick?” She would have taken him hot soup in a heartbeat if he’d said something.
Charlotte hesitated. “No…”
“Please tell me where he is,” Penny implored. “It’s important that I speak to him.”
“That’s going to have to wait, I think.” Charlotte let out a sigh and seemed to decide she wasn’t betraying her boss’s confidence by revealing what he’d told her. Or Penny looked pathetic and she felt sorry for her. “He called me early yesterday morning from his mobile. He’s gone to Sydney on urgent personal business. That’s all he told me.”
That cold wave turned to ice. Rochelle lived in Sydney. Penny had told him to go see the woman, but she honestly had never even dreamed…
No. Greg’s mother lived in Sydney too. And his father. Perhaps one of them was sick. Penny hoped not. But she also felt violently ill at the possibility he’d gone to see Rochelle. What if he took one look at the woman and remembered all they’d shared together, and wondered why in hell he’d ever thought he could love Penny? Why would you pick now to do what I tell you, lawyer man?
“Thank you. I…I’ll go. If he does check in, do you think you could let him know that I…that I…”
“I’m happy to pass on a message.” Charlotte smiled slightly. “But you could try him on his mobile.”
“Of course. I might do. Thanks.”
Penny bolted out of the office as quickly as she’d stormed in. After fishing her mobile phone out of her bag, she searched the contacts and found his number as she walked on wobbly legs into the street. She hit the call button before she even prepared what she was going to say. What on earth are you going to say, Penny?
The call picked up after several rings, during which Penny had plenty of time to speculate that Greg was screening her. When the ringing stopped, Penny’s heart leapt to her throat. It got clogged there when it wasn’t Greg’s voice on the other end, but a woman’s.
“Greg Danvers’ phone. Can I help you?”
The voice was cultured, coolly polite. Penny was stunned for several seconds, standing still as a statue in the street while people walked around her. “I…I’d like to speak to Greg.”
“He’s in the bathroom.”
In the bathroom. Doing what? Throwing up because he ate a bad clam? Or having a shower after he’d just screwed coolly polite’s brains out?
Penny prayed Greg had food poisoning.
When Penny didn’t say anything more, the woman enquired smoothly, “Who is this?”
“Who is this?” Penny enquired back far less smoothly.
“I’m Rochelle.”
Penny’s fingers went numb, and she promptly dropped her smart phone on the footpath, where it landed with a thud, followed by a shattering of glass.
Chapter Sixteen
Greg made his way from the men’s room back to the table in an upmarket Sydney café he used to frequent. He saw all the tables filled with smartly dressed professionals talking in hushed tones and missed the more casual, friendly atmosphere of the Beach Break Café in Leyton’s. He used to fit in here at Fellini’s, but he no longer felt like he did.
Instead of making him melancholy, the realization brought a smile to his face. He knew where he belonged and he was going back there. Tomorrow.
Yesterday had been filled with the business of settling Bryan into Serenity Lakes, the topnotch rehabilitation facility an hour north of Sydney that would be his home for the next three months. Then he’d had to drive to Cremorne to explain it all to his mother, who had moved quickly from denial that Bryan was in any serious trouble to tearful remonstrations over how it was going to look if people found out. It had been an emotionally draining day, and Greg had thankfully slept for nine hours straight after it, something he couldn’t remember ever doing. He’d woken feeling resolved to tie up every loose end in Sydney so he could head back to Leyton’s as soon as possible.
Which brought him to today’s business.
He made it back to his table and sat down opposite the woman he’d once hoped to marry. Rochelle looked as chic as ever in a soft shell-pink cardigan and a slim gray skirt, her long dark hair held back at her nape with a clip. A few tendrils had escaped the clasp and surrounded her classically beautiful face like a frame. For the first time Greg realized that look was affected. The curled strands were too perfectly arranged to draw attention to Rochelle’s high cheekbones and dark emerald eyes.
He thought of Penny’s shaggy chin-length bob and missed her with a sharp pang that stole his breath for a moment. Soon. You’ll get back to her soon. In the meantime he was doing what she’d asked of him. He was putting the ghost of Rochelle to rest once and for all.
“So,” he began. “Where were we?”
“You were about to tell me why you asked me to meet you here.”
Rochelle smiled, a coy curve of her lips that once upon a time would have made Greg’s heart do flip-flops. Today it elicited no reaction whatsoever.
“I asked you here because I’d like an explan
ation,” he said. “I think I deserve to know why you ran out on our wedding once and for all.”
Rochelle blanched a little at his blunt question. Her eyes lowered, focusing on the silver cutlery on the white tablecloth. “That’s fair, I suppose.”
She supposed? Greg kept his sarcasm in check and simply waited while Rochelle moved a teaspoon around the tablecloth for no apparent reason, then lifted her espresso cup and took a delicate sip before replacing it in its saucer.
Eventually she raised her eyes to Greg’s. There was a helplessness in them that would have tugged at his heartstrings when they were together. It had no effect today. Was that helplessness as affected as her hairstyle? Had he ever really known this woman?
Rochelle must have concluded he wasn’t going to help her out, because she sighed in resignation. “It’s difficult to explain. I don’t have words prepared… To be honest I thought you had no interest in how I felt about anything, given how abruptly you left after the wedding.”
This time Greg couldn’t hold his incredulity back. “How abruptly I left?”
Beneath her makeup, her skin paled even more. She held up a manicured hand. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I was the one who ruined everything, embarrassed you in front of everyone…”
“Rochelle, I don’t care about that anymore.” He honestly didn’t. He no longer lived in Sydney. He didn’t give two hoots what the gossips in the circles he used to travel in had to say about anything. “I’d like to know why. Was it something I did, or didn’t do?”
“No. Not really. I had trouble talking to you about what I was going through when I started having doubts, of course. You were focused on the end goal. You had it all planned out—where we’d live, how many children we’d have, how many hours a week I’d be able to work while still looking after little Jason and Tamara. You even had names picked out, Greg. Goodness! I couldn’t even decide between lilacs and roses for my bouquet.”