The only sound in the yard were a few birds in the trees and the occasional car that drove down the street. Sighing, he continued. “Turns out my friend hadn’t been killed but ended up with a life full of surgeries, rehabs, therapies, and one shady foster home after another. She didn’t land in a place like Miss Ethel’s.”
He looked up, slowly moving his head from one side to the other as he stared at the faces of each of the men he called his brothers, the men who held his heart and had his back. He could see understanding beginning to dawn on several of their faces. Nodding, he said, “Her name was Penny.”
As the full import of what he was saying hit them, the collective moans and groans and utterances of sympathy began.
“She doesn’t know? She doesn’t remember you?” Zeke asked.
Shaking his head, he said, “I went by Johnny back then. Asher is my middle name. And when I first met her as an adult, she was going by her full name of Penelope. It wasn’t until we began sharing life stories that I realized who she was."
“So, the two of you have fallen in love, but she doesn’t know that you’re her childhood friend,” Jaxon reiterated.
“And you don’t know how to tell her,” Jayden continued.
“And Miss Ethel knows you need to,” Zander concluded.
He nodded, and they all sat quietly for a moment. “I know I need to tell her…I just don’t know how. What we have is everything I ever wanted. Someone who makes me feel like all my pieces have been put back together."
“I’d start with that, man. Just exactly what you said,” Rafe said.
“Have you considered that she probably needs all those pieces put back together, also?” Cas asked. "Maybe for her, the loss of her childhood friend has been with her all along, too.”
Rafe nodded and said, “He’s right. By holding back, you’re keeping her from being able to put some pieces of her childhood together."
“I didn’t tell Rosalie for a while that it was my fault that she ended up being outside Grimm’s when she got attacked. It ate me up, but I was terrified when she knew that she’d leave me," Zander said. “And when she did find out, I won’t lie, we had a rough spot for a while.”
Rafe added, “I had the same problem when I kept my former career from Eleanor. I can tell you that that kind of secret can come back to haunt you if you don’t go ahead and deal with it.”
Looking around at his brothers that had committed relationships, he remembered each of them had difficulties and secrets they had had to overcome.
Standing, he said, “Thanks for letting me talk about this. I know what I’ve got to do, I just got to find the right time and the right words.” Bending, he picked up the can of paint, and the others followed suit as they finished Miss Ethel’s porch.
23
Refusing to spend another lunch break trying to teach Janie her job when it was obvious the young woman had no desire to learn and simply expected Penny to do it for her, Penny had gone to a deli down the street and splurged on a sandwich, chips, and drink. Having enjoyed a chance to get out of the office, she sighed as she pushed open the front door, nodded at a few the agents that acknowledged her, and made her way toward the back.
Passing close to Mr. Weatherby’s office, she did not intend to eavesdrop, but the door was open and the voices clearly audible.
“It’s her fault this is not done on time,” Janie said. “She’s been assisting me during her lunch break, and today she left the office.”
“Now, now, Janie,“ Mr. Weatherby said. “Penelope has a right to take her lunch wherever she would like.”
“Uncle Otis, I’m trying my very best to learn this job. It’s not that I don’t appreciate you giving me the opportunity, but she resents me and thwarts my every attempt to learn."
“That doesn’t sound like Penelope to me,” he replied. “In fact, I’ve seen her often in your office helping.”
“Isn’t it her job to assist me?”
“Well, not really,” he continued. “She has her own duties, but I did ask if she could show you the ropes.”
“Well, she’s not. I think she’s just after my job and wants me to get fired. But if that cripple thinks she’s going to oust me, she’s got another thing coming!”
Rearing back as though slapped, Penny’s hand flew to her mouth to keep her indignant reply from coming forth. Waiting for Mr. Weatherby to reprimand his niece for her choice of words, she was shocked when he said nothing. Her heart pounded as she seethed but made her way to her office, determined not to make a scene. Their voices had been so loud she felt sure some of the agents in the front had heard, and her face burned with anger as much as embarrassment.
It was almost impossible to continue working that afternoon, but she forced her professionalism to the forefront, taking the receipts that the agents brought to her, ignoring their furtive gazes.
The afternoon hours seemed to drag, and by the end of the workday, she was glad to shut down her computer. She grabbed her bag and cane and walked out of her office. She was just passing Mr. Weatherby’s office when he called her back. Swallowing her grimace, she turned and made her way into his office, stood near the chair and held his gaze, noting that after a few seconds he began looking down at his desk, fiddling with some papers.
“Yes, Mr. Weatherby? You wanted to see me?”
He sighed heavily and lifted his gaze back to her. “Penelope, I know that you’ve been helping Janie, and I also know that she is not very appreciative of the assistance.”
Nodding, she replied, “Yes, that’s true. I’ve always been willing to help anyone in this office.”
He leaned back and smiled, seeming to relax. But before he had a chance to speak, she continued, “But, that time has come to an end when it comes to the new office manager. I will no longer work through my lunch time to assist her. I know that the former office manager left Janie a detailed notebook and computer files on what needed to be done, and I have certainly shown her as well. At this time, I will be returning to my duties only, and it will be time for her to completely take over her position. Sometimes, Mr. Weatherby, I’m sure you’ll agree, we learn more from our mistakes than someone else trying to do something for us.”
His eyes bulged, and his mouth opened and closed several times before he blustered, “I don’t think she’s able to handle the job right now. I really need you to continue seeing that it runs smoothly.”
Offering a thin smile, she replied, “I’m very sorry, Mr. Weatherby, but I’m sure you can see my position. After all, a cripple cannot be expected to do both jobs. Have a nice evening.” With that, she turned and walked out of his office, but not before seeing the look of surprise hit his face.
Having to walk through the main lobby where several agents were still at their desk, she was stunned when the sound of clapping began. Jerking her head around, she saw three agents smiling at her, now each clapping. This time, her smile was wide and genuine as she tilted her chin downward in acknowledgment. Stepping through the front door into the autumn afternoon sun, she felt empowered. She knew she was strong. She knew she was a survivor. But she could not wait to see Asher and tell him about her day. Because she also knew it was his love that empowered her.
* * *
Asher was nervously pacing his floor, waiting for Penny to come over. Wanting her to be comfortable in her new home, they had spent most evenings and nights in her apartment, occasionally staying the night at his. They had already made plans for him to fix supper at his place, but after his conversation with Miss Ethel and his brothers, he knew he needed to tell her everything.
As he paced, he practiced out loud what he would say, changing things up depending on how he thought she might react. The knock on the door startled him, and he hesitated with his hand hovering over the doorknob, sucking in a deep breath before letting it out slowly. Hoping his face had adopted a non-worried expression, he threw open the door.
She walked past him, her cane making a rapid tap as she moved into the room.
Turning, he noticed her wide grin and bright eyes, and for a second, everything flew out of his mind other than how beautiful she was.
“Asher! You’re not going to believe what I did today! It was phenomenal,” she gushed.
Surprised at her greeting, he was buoyed by her excitement, and asked, “What?”
She moved deeper into his living room, starting to pace the same track that he had. “I refused to spend my lunchtime today helping Janie do her job and listening to her bitch and moan. But when I got back from lunch, I was passing Mr. Weatherby’s office, and I overheard her blaming me for her mistakes and being generally nasty. I was furious, especially when she called me a cripple!”
He jerked back, his brows lowering and growled, “She did what?”
“I know, I know,” she agreed, throwing her hands up to the side. “I couldn’t believe she said that, and I also couldn’t believe that he didn’t say anything to her! No reprimand, no correction, no nothing!”
She turned and began pacing again and said, “But I kept my cool. I went back into my dumb-ass office and worked. But when it was time for the end of my day, I packed up and started to leave, thinking I’m not spending another afternoon trying to clean up her messes.”
“Good for you, babe,” he said, starting to walk closer, but Penny was not finished and continued pacing. Cocking his head to the side, he asked, “There’s more?”
“Oh, yeah,” she said, nodding wildly, her silky hair flinging back and forth with the motion of her head. “As I was leaving, Mr. Weatherby called me into his office. He seemed a little chagrined and admitted that Janie was not doing very well in the job but that he needed me to continue to assist in making sure that mistakes weren’t made. And you want to know what I told him?”
Asher grinned at her, knowing she was on a roll. Planting his legs in place, he crossed his arms over his chest and waited.
“I told him that I was not doing her job anymore. She could sink or swim, it was all on her.” She lowered her voice, conspiratorially, and added, “I also let him know that I heard her call me a cripple!”
Throwing his head back, he laughed and said, “Good for you! It’s about time you put that windbag in his place, and that silly niece he hired as well!”
Her smile was still wide and her eyes shining when she added, “And when I walked through the front lobby where there were a few agents still working, guess what they did?”
Shaking his head, he said, “I’ve got no idea, babe.”
Tossing her cane to the side, she clapped her hands slowly while saying, “They gave me applause, Asher. They overheard me telling Mr. Weatherby that I wasn’t going to help Janie anymore, and they actually clapped for me!”
Her delight was so obvious, he moved quickly forward and grabbed her about the waist. Picking her up, he twirled her around before she leaned down and kissed him with abandon. Slowly pulling back, she said, “I’ve always known I was a survivor, Asher. But today, I realized I’m also a fighter. It felt so empowering to be able to tell him that I would do my job but not do someone else’s.”
He continued to hold her so that her feet were off the ground, her body plastered to his, her arms around his neck, and her mouth a whisper away from his.
“I owe that to you, sweetheart,” she said.
He shook his head to disagree, but she pressed her lips against his again, effectively silencing him. Lifting back, she said, “I know it’s true. Our love has empowered me.”
At that moment, all he wanted to do was make love to her and was glad that dinner would easily heat up later.
He carried her back to the bedroom, their lips never separating. Her words humbled him, and he wanted to show her with his body how much he adored her. Knowing how long she had struggled with her self-image, the excitement radiating off her was contagious.
She was so much more than her past. So much more than her injuries. Smart, beautiful, loyal, hard-working. She said their love empowered her, but he also knew their love gave them wings.
There would be time for deep discussions about the past later on. For now, he just wanted to worship her.
Later, sated and exhausted, they fell asleep, limbs tangled, breaths mingled, peace surrounding them.
24
Blinking slowly, Penny awoke. It took her a few seconds to remember where they were, but with the lamp by the bed still on, she was able to easily determine they were in Asher’s apartment. Their lovemaking had been slow and delicious as he kissed her everywhere, making her feel beautiful in spite of her scars.
Stretching, she knew she needed to use the bathroom but did not want to wake him up. She slid ever so gently to the side, constantly checking over her shoulder to make sure that he was not awake. Once her feet were on the floor, she made her way into the bathroom. Taking care of business, she stared in the mirror for a moment, her nakedness no longer something she avoided.
With such sleek hair, she would never have what she supposed was ‘sex hair’ but appreciated how it fell into place with a few swipes of her fingers through the tresses. Her breasts were high and firm, slightly reddened from his scruff. As her eyes dropped lower, she stared long and hard at the scars on her leg, realizing that they only mattered if she made them matter.
She had finally given him everything. Without hiding her scars anymore, she felt completely free.
A slight chill moved across her, and she shivered, wanting to return to Asher’s arms, snuggling once again in his bed. The room was illuminated by the lamp next to the bed, and she wondered if it would wake him up for her to turn it off.
He groaned in his sleep and flopped onto his back, both arms stretched above his head, resting palms up on the pillow. She stifled a giggle, thinking that he looked like a little boy, his hair standing up in all directions and his face youthful in slumber.
She moved, bending near him as she reached for the lamp, pausing at the swirl of tattooed flowers that she had often admired. The center of one of the flowers caught her eye as it appeared puckered. She bent lower, wondering if it was a play of the light or if the tattoo artist had made an error and had to cover it up.
Upon closer observation, she could see that the center of the rose was actually a small, round, puckered scar. How clever! He must’ve had the tattoo artist make the scar the center of the rose. Since her face was now so close to his arm, she continued her careful perusal, smiling at the shading using only black ink to create such beauty.
The center of another rose appeared puckered, and she recognized the same small, round scar in it as well. Now that her curiosity was piqued, she began looking at the roses on the underside of both forearms, finding the round, puckered scars.
She wondered what could have caused those scars, even considering chickenpox. But he had no scars anywhere else except on a certain area on both arms.
Standing up straight again, she leaned toward the lamp to turn off the light, but her hand slowed on its path. A strange sensation began to move through her that she could not identify. A whisper of a memory. A flash of something from long ago. She turned and stared down at Asher’s sleeping form once again, her hand now dropping to her side.
Her hand, dangling at her side, began rubbing absentmindedly over her thigh as a hazy memory became clearer in focus. Kindergarten. So glad that the little boy sitting next to her was friendly. His hair sticking up despite his continual attempts to flatten it with his hand. Johnny. The little boy who became her best friend. Sitting on his front steps. Looking at his arms. Red, puckered, circular burns.
They looked so painful, but when she asked about them, he just ducked his head. It hurt her heart to know that someone had done that to him. She had even cried.
Swallowing deeply, she tried to breathe, but it felt as though she could not suck enough air into her lungs. She had been at Johnny’s house when he tried to hurry her away, afraid that the man who burned him would not be happy for her to be there. She had jumped up, started down the road, having no idea how her life
was about to change with the squeal of tires.
Lifting her hand, she rubbed her forehead, the ache almost blinding. Why am I thinking of all this now? Why now? Her gaze dropped back to Asher, his face so relaxed with slumber. She tried to imagine what he looked like as a child but could not. The hair was darker. Thicker. But sticking up.
He shifted again, this time rolling to his side toward her as she continued to stand by the bed. One forearm was now hidden as it lay against his stomach, but the other one was still visible, resting on the pillow.
She leaned down again, staring at his arm. As her vision blurred, it was as though his tattoos faded away and all that she could see were the puckered scars of the cigarette burns she had seen as a child. The very ones that her teardrops had fallen onto.
Her fingers clamped over her mouth, stifling the gasp fighting to escape. Unable to process what her mind was conjuring, she bent and grabbed his T-shirt, pulling it over her head. It hung to her thighs, but she was uncomfortable without panties on, so she slid them on as well. Backing quietly out of the room, she limped out into the living room, her mind a swirl of memories and emotions but was having difficulty distinguishing one from the other.
She sat on the sofa, her gaze drifting around the room as she tried to still her racing thoughts. Her gaze landed on a small picture frame that was partially hidden behind some books on his shelf. She walked over and pulled it toward the front, eliciting another gasp.
In the background was Miss Ethel’s house, with the iconic woman standing on her front porch, surrounded by little boys of various ages. It was not a very clear picture, but holding it close, she could make out one skinny, knobby-kneed little boy, whose hair was growing in all directions. Setting the frame back quickly, she stumbled backward before catching herself.
Asher: Heroes at Heart Page 17