by Kelly Utt
Marshall and Brian glanced at each other.
“Almost,” Brian said.
Hana looked quizzically at him.
Marta and Madeline were busy playing at the dining room table. They were opening cans of putty without a care in the world. Marta was hardly paying attention to the discussion happening in the next room.
“What do you mean, almost?” Hana asked.
Marshall took a deep breath. “Come, sit with me,” he said to Penelope as he led her to the sofa. They sat beside each other, Marshall’s arm around Penelope’s shoulders and his other hand on her knee. It was a protective stance. Penelope loved it.
“You, too, Hana,” Brian said. He sat down in his chair and pulled Hana onto his lap. He kissed her again. He couldn’t seem to help it. She smiled brightly in return.
Marshall eyed Brian, who nodded. Neither of them wanted to be the bearer of bad news.
“Just say it,” Hana said. “Whatever it is.”
“It’s about Cheryl,” Marshall said. “Pen, Brian told me what you saw at the party… How Cheryl seemed to be involved with the trafficking ring.”
Penelope began to sip air, her body anticipating a lie.
“Relax,” Marshall said. “No one is upset with you for not reporting it to Luke and Neil. They understand. They got what they needed. By the time Brian filled me in on what you’d seen, the detectives already had the evidence for another source.”
Penelope exhaled, softly. It hurt to hear that Cheryl was in trouble, but she was incredibly relieved that she didn’t have to lie about or hide anything. She wasn’t sure she could have if she’d had to.
“Was she involved?” Hana asked. “Did she participate in drugging Audrey… I mean, Marta… like Pen thought?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” Marshall said. “Cheryl worked with Reggie and the Russians to drug young girls so they could be taken, then sold.”
“Wow,” Hana said.
“We don’t think Cheryl wanted to be involved,” Marshall added. “Somehow, she got roped into it. Luke suspects that one of the Russians had threatened her parents. We don’t have confirmation of that yet, but it seems likely. If that’s the case, she’ll get a lesser sentence. But Pen, she’s going to prison. There’s no way around it.”
Penelope shook her head, sad for her oldest friend. “And Meg?”
“Meg’s in the clear, same as you two,” Brian said.
It relieved Penelope and Hana to hear that. They both nodded.
Hana leaned down and nuzzled Brian’s nose. “And honey, to state the obvious, you, too, are a federal agent, correct?”
“I am,” he confirmed.
“Madeline? And Jessa?”
“The stories I told you about my personal life are all true. When Jessa died, I knew I couldn’t leave Madeline to travel on assignment. I tried to quit, but they wanted to keep me. We made a deal where I could stay home in Rosemary Run and man the operations center underground. I provide support to agents in the region without having to leave my house.”
“Lucky bastard,” Marshall said, chuckling.
“So, the part about you two serving in Iraq together?” Penelope asked.
“True. All true.”
“Your elderly mother?” Hana tried.
“True. Saw her this afternoon and picked up Marshall on the way home.”
Penelope shook her head again. “It’s just so much to take in.”
“Same,” Hana agreed.
There was a moment of silence as they reflected on things. Madeline giggled from the next room as she and Marta compared coloring pages and said something about purple elephants and blue zebras. The mood felt happy. It felt light, despite the seriousness of what they’d just been through.
“Pen?” Marshall asked. “Would you like to call her?”
Penelope drew back, startled. “Cheryl?”
“Yeah.”
“I can do that?”
“Brian and I can arrange it. If you want.”
Tears sprang from Penelope’s eyes. “Yes, please. Very much, yes.”
24
When young Penelope had returned home from school the day she had sat in her classroom and carefully listed fake orders for the Sunnyday Sales Club, she had been a bundle of emotions. She had felt at the same time both confident and terrified. She’d been confident of her gumption and willingness to take action to get what she’d wanted. But she’d been terrified of what would happen to her, and even more, she’d been terrified of what her actions said about her character.
Penelope had been quiet that evening, barely saying a word at dinner. Her mind had spun as she’d tried her best to analyze the possibilities. She had wondered what she’d do with all the merchandise when it came in. She hadn’t been sure she could hide it in her room. It had been too small of a space, and besides, Jean wouldn’t have given her the necessary privacy. She had thought that maybe she’d tell her dad, and had hoped that Felix would help her keep the things hidden, like he’d done with the ten-speed bike.
It had been at that moment when Penelope identified the feeling she’d had. It had been about feeling bad. Simple as that. She had felt bad about herself. And not only had she felt bad about herself, she had felt like she was bad. The realization had stung. She was bad, and she had to hide it from others. She’d had to stuff it somewhere, hidden, just like she’d have to stuff the fake gift orders from the Sunnyday Sales Club if she wanted to get the green tent.
Jean had known how bad Penelope was. She had looked at her with disdain and had reminded her of her shortcomings nearly every day. And now, Penelope had internalized it, believing that she was bad, too.
Only a contradiction had remained within her. Deep down, she’d known she was a good person.
When the merchandise had come in, she’d told her mom that the orders had been real and that neighbors were waiting on her to deliver.
Sip. Sip. Hold.
Penelope had delivered the items on her bike, telling neighbors that they had received bonus gifts.
Sip. Sip. Sip. Hold.
She’d tried to ignore their bewildered faces as she tossed them candles, greeting cards, and picture frames as fast as she could. She’d had to get rid of the merchandise so she wouldn’t get caught.
It had been one of the greatest disappointments of Penelope’s young life when she got to the bottom of the bag and realized that the green tent wasn’t in there. It had been set to arrive separately. What Penelope had anticipated even less was the printed statement from her savings account that had arrived at her home, notating the withdrawal of some eighty-seven dollars.
When Penelope had gotten done delivering the fake orders, she had arrived at her house to find both of her parents waiting with angry looks on their faces. Jean had raged, while Felix had told her how disappointed he was. Crushed, Penelope had told them about the green tent and how badly she had wanted it. Felix had said that Penelope should have just asked.
It had been too late for that. And besides, by that point, the tent hadn’t much mattered. When it had finally arrived, her parents had sent it back. Young Penelope’s beliefs about herself and how to get what she wanted out of life had been cemented. It would take decades for her to shed the emotional baggage.
25
“Cheryl?” Penelope said softly when Luke handed her friend the phone.
“Pen!” Cheryl said. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t hate me.”
“I couldn’t.”
“You should.”
“I hear they threatened your family?” Penelope asked.
Cheryl began to cry. “Yes, they did. But that doesn’t make what I did right. Those girls…”
“I agree,” Penelope said. “You’ll have to live with that.”
“It will haunt me to my dying day,” Cheryl said.
There was a long silence. Penelope wasn’t sure what to say.
“Hey, Marshall and I are really happy together. So, something good came out of all of this. I’m not sure we
would have met if it hadn’t been for the escort service and his undercover assignment.”
“That’s good,” Cheryl said. “I’m happy for you. Really. I am.”
“I didn’t think I deserved real happiness before,” Penelope said. “I didn’t have the guts to go after it. And believe it or not, you helped bring back old hurts related to my mom. I finally faced them head on and I realized that she was hurting, just like you. Both of you were in over your heads-- you with this and her with untreated mental illness. You both had your reasons for doing what you did. You didn’t set out to hurt girls anymore than my mom set out to hurt me and Zach. I can see that clearly now.”
“Pen…”
“No, don’t say anything else,” Penelope urged, her voice soft but strong. “It doesn’t make what you did okay, but I forgive you. Both of you.”
“Oh, Pen…”
“No, wait. I forgive you for myself. So I can move on. But I have to let you go. Just like I have to let my mom go. I’m done. This is goodbye, Cheryl.”
Penelope wiped tears from her eyes as she hung up the phone, releasing a deep breath she had been holding for the final time. She told her body sternly that she was done sipping air and holding her breath.
Instead, she’d live a life where she didn’t have to feel bad about herself. She told herself she was letting those who had weighed her down go. She’d remember the good times, but she wouldn’t let them hold any power over her now.
Instead, she’d live her happy life with Marshall in the little blue cottage with the big yard. They’d have the puppies and the little girl, and their little girl would be treated with nothing but love and respect.
On warm summer nights when Marshall was home and the crickets sang in the night breeze, the three of them would camp in the backyard in their big green tent. They’d do their best to live happily ever after.
THE END.
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Her Worst Mistake
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