by Lisa Bilbrey
“You’re right,” she admitted. “But you weren’t here, and I couldn’t let you throw away your chance at your dream.” Penelope dragged her hand over her face and through her silky, blond hair. “Not for me, and certainly not because of my son.”
“Our son,” Travis groused. She lifted her eyes to his. “He is mine, right?”
Penelope stumbled back like someone had just sucker punched her. “I can’t believe you’d even ask me that.”
“Um, hello!’ Travis snarled, throwing both arms up. “I just found out yesterday that I even have a son. Pretty damn sure that I’m allowed to question if he’s mine or not.”
“You’re right,” she replied, quickly. “I’m sorry. Guess I just wasn’t expecting you to ask.”
“Yeah, well, we’re both getting more than we expected lately,” Travis muttered.
“Suppose I deserve that, too.” Penelope walked over and knelt in front of the black granite headstone. Lifting her hand up, she ran her fingers over Loralie’s name etched into the stone. “Every year on Max’s birthday, I come out here and tell her everything he’s done.”
“You should have been telling me,” he said.
Penelope sighed and stood up. She turned and faced him, brushing the tears off her ivory skin. The sorrow in her dark, soulful, brown eyes made Travis ache to hold her in his arms. He had missed her touch.
“Every day for the last decade, I’ve picked up the phone to call. But I couldn’t. I just . . .” She shook her head, dislodging a few more droplets from her eyes. “I didn’t know I was pregnant when you left. I swear I didn’t. Two months had passed before I found out. When I realized, I didn’t know what to do. Daddy was fuming mad, and Momma threatened to castrate you.”
Travis scoffed. Her parents never had liked him. Of course, the fact that he’d abandoned her and their child probably hadn’t helped. Sighing, he grabbed the back of his neck, trying to work out some of the tension. “You still could have called. Hell, Penelope, you could have come down and told me.”
“I did,” she wept. “It took me all night, but I drove down to Austin. Damn it, Travis, I was terrified. All I could think about was you and the way things had ended. You’d made it clear. Staying here — with me — wasn’t a part of your plans. Don’t you remember? We should see other people so that the temptation to cheat wasn’t there. That’s what you said the night before you left me. You broke my heart, but I still was gonna tell you.”
Travis winced. “Why didn’t you?”
Penelope frowned. “Because you’d already moved on from me.”
“What?” Travis asked.
“I got to the campus just after eight in the morning. I found your dorm easy enough, but before I could go inside, I saw you come out with a group of guys. Figured they were your teammates. You were laughing and so happy.” Penelope brought her hand up to her chest. “That was when it really sank in. You were never going to come back; not for me, not for your daddy. Not even for our child. Seeing the smile on your face, I just couldn’t bring myself to ruin that for you. That was the life you wanted, Travis. The one you’d been working for every day. I wasn’t going to be the one to rob you of it, so I left.”
“Rob me of my life?” Travis tried to keep the tremor out of his voice, but he knew he’d failed. “You didn’t even give me the choice.”
“No, you made that choice on your own,” Penelope mumbled. “You left town and never looked back. Not for me, anyway. As much as I love you, I couldn’t take your dream from you — not after how hard you worked to get to where you are.”
“Love or loved?” Travis swallowed against the lump in his throat while looking her straight in the eyes. “You said you love me, present tense. Do you still love me?”
Shaking her head, Penelope wrapped her arms around her torso and tried to walk past him. However, Travis grabbed her, forcing her to stop. “Answer me!”
“I — I can’t,” she cried, struggling to break his iron grip on her arms. “Travis, please!”
“Do you still love me, Penelope?” This time when he asked, the harsh, unforgiving tone was gone. Travis slid his arms around her waist, nestling her against his chest. “Have you moved on? Is there someone else in your life? A husband or a boyfriend? Baby, tell me.”
“No! I — I never stopped loving you. Not once,” she whispered, almost sounding ashamed of her admission. “But it’s too late now.”
Before Travis could stop her, Penelope wiggled out of his embrace and ran over to her car, leaving him standing there. For the second time, he found himself crumbling to his knees and fighting the urge to scream.
***
Chapter Five
Lessons Learned
Somehow, and he wasn’t sure how, Travis managed to drive back out to his father’s ranch without crashing into a tree. Russ was gone, though that didn’t surprise Travis. He’d spouted out so much hate and venom through his angry words that it was a wonder his father hadn’t changed the locks. While Russ had abandoned him when he needed him the most, he was still Travis’s father. He owed the man more respect than he’d shown this morning — or anytime over the last seventeen years, if he were honest with himself.
Stumbling upstairs, Travis walked into his bedroom. There, next to his bed, was the suitcase the airline had promised to deliver. At least they had kept their word. Travis crawled on his bed, buried his face in his pillow, and tried to put the day behind him.
For reasons that he couldn’t fully explain or begin to understand, he still loved Penelope. They’d been friends since Kindergarten. Loralie had always teased Travis that one day he’d fall in love with Penelope. Of course, at six years old, he hadn’t found it funny. As they’d approached their freshman year in high school, Travis had noticed his feelings for her had morphed from mere friendship into something more. At first he’d been terrified; scared of ruining the relationship he had with his best friend.
After several months of agonizing over his feelings, he had decided to man up and had asked Penelope to go to the Spring dance with him. Her smile when she’d agreed had taken his breath away, searing into Travis’ soul and causing his heart to flutter in pure joy. Of course, Travis had been nervous wreck in the hours leading up to the dance. What if he stepped on Penelope’s toes or stuck her with the pin from the simple rose corsage he’d bought her? Neither of those things had happened, of course.
Travis had picked her up and had been stunned by how beautiful Penelope looked in her pale pink dress. He had taken hold of her hand and stammered out how incredible she was. Penelope’s cheeks had warmed to a rosy red as she’d thanked him, the words trembling from between her lips. He’d helped her into the front seat of his car, being careful as he drove them to the school. It had been the first time Penelope had ridden in his car.
Once they’d arrived, he’d helped her out, trying to be the gentleman he knew his mother would have expected him to be. Penelope’s hand had felt perfect in his, like he had been meant to be the one to hold it; perhaps he had been. The night had been spent dancing and laughing together, and Penelope had never left his side. Her smile had only grown with each moment they were together.
After the dance had ended, he’d helped her back into his car and had driven her home, an ache growing inside of him at the thought of being away from her. Penelope had slipped her hand back into his as he’d walked her up to her front door. Titling her head back, her eyes had met his. In that moment, with the moon shining down on them, Travis had known that he had to kiss her. Slowly, he’d leaned in to find her warm lips awaiting his.
Time had stood still, and the stars had aligned. Everything had been perfect, just the way it was supposed to be. Then her father had flashed the porch light, causing them both to jump apart and burst out laughing. From that moment on, Penelope had been his girl. He’d fallen in love with her.
For the next three years, they had been inseparable. Then, in a moment of immaturity, he’d made the biggest mistake of his life, and in the proc
ess, he had lost her and their child.
At the time, Travis had thought he was doing what was best for both him and Penelope. She was staying in Clarendon to attend the local junior college. He’d been offered a scholarship to play football at the University of Texas. With over four hundred miles between them, he had known they’d never be able to keep their relationship safe from fears of infidelity. So Travis had taken the cowardly way out. He’d told Penelope they should see other people, and that lie had carried him through too many nights when he’d yearned for her.
The look on her face when he’d stood in front of her and spouted off his lies, the pain that oozed out of her eyes, had haunted him every day. Now, Travis had to come to terms with having lost not only Penelope with his selfishness, but also ten years with his son as well. Russ has been right; he’d failed to be a good father to Max.
~*~*~*~
After a few hours of wallowing, Travis dragged himself off his bed and shuffled downstairs. The house was dark; only the light in the kitchen indicated that Russ was home. Travis walked into the room, only to stop in the doorway when he saw his father sitting at the table, dozens of snapshots laid out in front of him. One hand was up against his forehead, while the other one gripped the back of his neck.
“You think I didn’t love your momma, that I still don’t love her,” Russ grumbled, not bothering to look back at Travis. “That woman . . .” He shook his head. “I miss her so much. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t hear her laughing or imagine that damn cheeky smile she always wore.”
Travis stood in the doorway, unsure of how to respond to him. Never in the seventeen years since his mother had passed away had he seen Russ so emotional. Travis knew Russ had grieved for her, but outside of the first few days after her death, Travis hadn’t seen or heard his father cry; not for her, and not over him, either. Now, all of a sudden, Russ was baring his soul to him.
Russ picked up one of the photographs that lay on the table in front of him. “I took this the day you were born. Your momma started having contractions while cooking dinner. The woman was nine months along and I kept telling her that I’d cook or, hell, that I’d just run into town and pick us up something but she gave me that look. You know the one I’m talking about, don’t you?”
Travis nodded. “The ‘don’t-fuck-with-me’ look.”
“Yeah, suppose that’s one way to describe it,” Russ chuckled, sobering up quickly. “Anyway, I knew better than to argue with her, but I watched her because I knew how stubborn she could be. I don’t think I ate half of my food before I pushed my plate away and declared I was done. Without giving her a choice, I scooped her up in my arms and carried her out to the truck. I must have been going nearly eighty, but I got her to the hospital just in time for you to be born in the front seat.”
“Yeah, she told me that story,” Travis muttered. “Right before she died.”
Russ sighed, letting the picture drop down on the table. He turned and faced Travis, tears sliding down his weathered face. “Boy, I wish I could have saved her, but I couldn’t. The cancer had already taken so much out of her. She was tired of fighting.”
“No, I know that, Dad,” Travis said. “But you didn’t have to spend all your time out in your workshop, building shit that we didn’t need while she slowly died. You should have been in here, holding her hand like I did every fucking day.”
“I held her every night,” Russ replied. “I watched her struggling to get from one breath to the next. When she cried for the pain to stop, I prayed that God would take me and spare her. But he didn’t. Damn it, Travis, I needed her, and He took her away from me!”
“From me too,” Travis whimpered. He exhaled a shaky breath. “She was my mom, and I wasn’t done needing her — or you. Dad, I didn’t know how to deal with any of that, and instead of helping me, you pushed me away.”
Russ stood up and walked over to Travis, slowly reaching out and placing a hand on his shoulder. “I am so sorry that I wasn’t a better father to you, boy. You may not have known, but I’ve always been proud of you.”
“But you never told me,” Travis grumbled, fighting to keep control of the abundance of emotions running rampant through him. He wanted to scream at his father, to curse, to release his rage, but mostly, he wanted his father to tell him everything would be okay.
“I didn’t think you wanted to hear it from me,” Russ admitted, letting his hand drop to his side. “You never needed me, Travis. When you were a little boy, you preferred to be with your momma. Even after she died, you focused all your attention on football.” Pausing, he shrugged his shoulders. “Suppose I figured that if a time came that you really needed me, you’d tell me.”
“There’s never been a time when I didn’t need you, Dad. Especially right now, because everything is so out of control.”
Russ laughed. “Yeah, I’d say that’s a bit of an understatement. How about I make us some supper and then we can talk things out?”
Travis smiled. “That sounds good.”
~*~*~*~
An hour later, Russ and Travis were seated at the dining room table. On their places were two perfectly grilled T-bone steaks, baked potatoes, and fresh salads. A comfortable silence had settled around them while they ate. Neither of them had spoken much while Russ cooked; just a request to pass the salt or pepper, to get the butter out, and a nod to the fridge where the ice-cold beers were.
“This is good,” Travis moaned, savoring the zesty flavor of his steak. “What’d you put on it?”
“If I told you, then I’d have to kill you,” Russ snickered. He picked up his beer and took a hearty swig. “It’s your momma’s recipe: a pinch of garlic powder, minced onion, and a splash of lemon. Even though I can’t seem to get it quite right, I keep trying.”
“Well, it’s good,” Travis mumbled. “I don’t cook much. Doesn’t seem worth it, with me living alone. Plus, with my schedule, I’m lucky if I’m home more than a couple of days before it’s time to head out again.”
“That has to get old, being gone all the time.”
Travis shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so, but I mean, I have the guys from the team. They definitely keep things interesting.”
“I don’t think I need to know the details, boy.” Russ laughed and shook his head. “You love the game that much?”
Travis released a heavy breath. “Yeah, I do. I can’t explain it, but there’s something about stepping out on that field, hearing the roar of the crowd chanting your name. It’s — well — it’s incredible. And I’ll probably never get to feel it again.”
Russ cocked an eyebrow at him. “And that’d be a bad thing?”
“Dad,” Travis sighed.
“I’m just asking,” he exclaimed, throwing a hand up. “You’ve had a good run, Travis. Most people don’t get six seasons in the pros, much less six successful ones.”
“No, I know they don’t,” he grumbled. “But what else can I do, Dad? I suppose I could try to get my teaching certification, but crap, I haven’t been in school in six years. A lot has changed since them.”
“Oh, yeah,” Russ scoffed. “You’re practically an old man, well past your prime.”
“You know what I mean,” Travis quipped.
“Yeah, I know.” Leaning back in his seat, his father said, “When I saw Penelope the summer after you left with a baby in her arms, I knew that he was yours. I picked up the phone a million times to call you, but I couldn’t do it.”
“Why not?” Travis asked.
“You were so angry when you left here.” Russ snorted. “Hell, boy, you were angry for the last seven years that you lived here. I knew you hated me, hated living out here on this ranch. Maybe I should have moved us into town, let you go out all the time with your friends. I don’t know. Your momma loved it out here, and I guess I wanted to hold onto her as much as I could.”
“I didn’t hate you, Dad,” Travis murmured, swallowing against the lump in his throat. “Sure, I was pissed off and angry, but I�
��ve never hated you.”
Russ’s lips trembled, and he blinked several times before he spoke again. “I never meant to hurt you. I should have told you about Penelope and Max, but I didn’t want you to get hurt. And I didn’t want that boy to get hurt. For all I knew, she’d told you and you’d chosen not to be in his life.”
Travis slumped back in his seat. “Wow, Dad, you really thought I would have done that?”
“I don’t know. You never came back, not once in ten years, boy.”
“No, I didn’t,” Travis admitted. “But I never would have let Max grow up without me in his life.”
“Yeah?” Russ wondered. “What would have done? Taken him down to Miami with you? Had a babysitter watch him on the sidelines while you played?”
“I — I don’t know,” he stammered. “I wasn’t given that choice to make, was I?”
“Are you going to make that little boy a part of your life now?” Russ pressed on, demanding answers to questions that Travis didn’t have.
“I don’t know, Dad,” he said. “Until yesterday, I didn’t even know I had a kid, and now that I do, I don’t know what the hell I’m gonna do about him.”
“Well, I guess that’s what you need to figure out,” Russ stated. “Because that boy, he’s an amazing kid. He’s just like you, Travis: full of fire and gumption. Don’t play with his emotions; he deserves better than to be toyed with.”
“He does,” Travis admitted, nodding. “I don’t know what to do, Dad. My life is a clusterfuck right now, and the last thing I need is a kid.”
Russ scoffed and stood up. Picking up his plate, he said, “Boy, maybe that’s exactly what you need.”
***
Chapter Six
Time to Talk
Two days later, Travis climbed in behind the wheel of Bertha with one thought on his mind: Penelope. He needed to talk to her, to try to get some kind of understanding about Max, their relationship, and what was going to happen from this point on. Travis knew he should have been on her doorstep the day before, but a Sunday afternoon with Max loitering around in the next room wasn’t the time to have the much-needed conversation. Instead, he opted to wait until Monday when he knew the boy would be at school. A part of him hated Penelope for never giving him the chance to be the boy’s father. Maybe that wasn’t fair but Travis had lost ten years with Max and no matter how hard he tried, he’d never be able to get that time back. However, as angry as he was with her, Travis couldn’t hate Penelope. He still loved her too damn much.