I nod. “I know how his people can be.” They hated that I refused to play to the cameras about being Big Joe’s daughter. They thought it would be good for his image to portray him as a family man. Dad never wanted me in front of the cameras though. Maybe to keep Penny away.
She smiles sadly. “I knew he didn’t want to be with me.”
“Why not?”
She pauses and studies me, sighing. “He had resources, prospects, money. I was a kid. It’s hard to explain.” Penelope blushes the way I do then stares back into her teacup.
“I understand.” I do, but she looked so happy in the photo at the hospital. “I just wondered if you wanted me.”
“Oh, honey, of course I did. Your father, he…”
“He? He what?” Here we go.
“No, I shouldn’t be telling you this. I know how close you are.”
I grab her hand. “Tell me,” I beg. I don’t want to know. I need to know. I need to see her face when she tells me that my world has been a lie.
She peeks at me through her lashes. “Your father begged me to get an abortion. I couldn’t though. I knew once I had you he’d love you right away. I was right. He’ll do anything for you. That’s what he’s told me all these years, whenever I tried to get in touch with you.”
Nausea fills me, and I can’t focus. Dizzy, I shake my head and look at her. Something is off with her story. It doesn’t add up. In a moment of bravery, I find my breath and call her out on it. “But if he never wanted me, how did he end up being the one to raise me. And why would he keep you away?”
She sighs. “I had some problems. Some… mental issues, you know. I spent some time in a hospital. I got addicted to painkillers.”
I must have a look on my face because she quickly adds, “I’m clean now. Your dad helped me pay for rehab, and I’ve been clean for years. But he didn’t want me hanging around causing problems. He was embarrassed of me and thought I’d hurt you.”
“Would you have? When you were addicted?”
Penny takes a sip of her tea. “I’m still an addict.” I’ve heard that before, from Chase, when he told us about his problems. Once you are an addict, you are always an addict. You can’t cure addiction. “But I’d never hurt you. Now or then. I had no power, no resources to fight for you. Your father had everything, including you. He would only send me to rehab if I signed over my parental rights.”
I drop my head back on the couch and stare at the ceiling. Could my dad have been lying all these years?
“Joe didn’t like having me around while his career was taking off. I knew things about him. He was scared I’d reveal them, either to you or the world.”
My heart palpitates. “What things?” What would he try to hide? I’m not sure I want to hear the answer.
I’m grateful when she ignores the question. “I had to move on, try to get on with my life. I tried with Brendan’s father, but that didn’t work out.” Penelope puts her arm around me. “I don’t want to bad talk your dad. He was doing what he thought was right. Anyway, it’s all water under the bridge.”
Water under the bridge. It’s the same phrase that I often use.
She finally meets my gaze. “I found you and you are here. You’re so beautiful, Amelia Megan. You’ve grown into such a beautiful woman.”
“I grew up with a lot of love,” I say. “I’m lucky to have my father.”
To believe Penny means to believe that my father bullied her to stay away. That he used his power and money against her. It means that she has something on him. It means he’s kept another secret from me, apparently a big one. It means he didn’t want me.
Or, it means that once he had me he loved me so much that he’d do anything to protect me. He’s been protecting me all my life. Still, can I forgive him for denying me the opportunity to be with my mother? Forgive my mother for giving up on me? Forgive Ben for trying to protect me by keeping me away from all this drama? My brain rattles with the thoughts until my head starts to hurt.
“You are lucky to have him,” she agrees. “I hope someday you realize that you have us too. Me and Brendan.”
“He’s a cool dude.” I think I’m in love with the little guy already.
Penelope stands and moves toward the kitchen. “He is. Can I get you anything else?”
“No thanks,” I say to her back as she walks away.
Pots and pans rattle as Penny fusses in the kitchen. I think about her words, wondering who I can talk to about everything she’s told me now that I’ve cut ties with Ben.
“Hey,” she calls from the other room. “I wanted to ask you something.”
“Okay.” The house gets quiet and I walk into the kitchen to join her.
Penny’s holding a pot, staring at me, smiling. “I was hoping you’d come live with us for the summer.”
I can’t help returning her grin as my insides warm with her words. What she’d said on the couch doesn’t matter as I picture the normalcy of living with my mother for the summer—drinking tea at night, playing with Brendan during the day, putting the past in the past and moving forward. Getting away from everything and everyone sounds perfect. I can help her with Brendan, and the three of us can get to know each other as a family.
Dad will have to understand. It’s only one summer, and it’s my decision to make. I smile and say, “I’d love to.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ben
It’s freezing cold, and I’m in my parked car, stalking Megan. What the fuck am I doing here?
Everyone tells me I have to move on. My mother, Coach, Jules, all tell me I have to move past Frank and November and get my act together. Funny thing is, I’m trying to move forward with the one girl who’s going backward, deep into her past. The girl who rejects me every time I try to take a step. I thought I had her. I thought we were good. Man, was I wrong.
Yet here I am.
Through the darkness, I spot the porch light on Penny’s house. I don’t know what I hope to accomplish by being here. It’s not like Megan’s going to come bursting out of that door into my arms. I’m going to end up sitting here in the Buick all night, then dying, frozen. Some poor soul will discover me in the morning and call the police, and then I’ll make the news. Again. Dead this time, like I should have been the first time.
I shiver at the thought and lean my head back on the driver’s seat and shut my eyes. Phase One of the Popsicle Plan, I think as I doze off.
Something jolts me, and I look to the passenger side and jump. Someone’s next to me.
Frank. With his red hair and giant green eyes, smiling like always.
“What are you doing here?”
He laughs, and I reach out to touch him but can’t seem to find him. “I thought it was time I paid you a visit. How you doing, Riley? I see you’re taking a hiatus from the razor.”
“How the fuck do you think I’m doing? You’re dead, and I’m sleeping in a car in Fort Lee in below freezing temperatures.” I scoff and rub my beard. “Do you like the beard?”
“Not one bit.” I give him the finger. He laughs as his leg bounces, and he taps his thumbs on his thighs. He looks around outside. “Where are we?”
I can’t take my eyes off of him. “I’ve missed you.” I say it out loud, to myself. “I’m sorry I failed you.”
Frank smiles, his green eyes wide. “Is that why you’re trying to kill yourself out here? Is that why you drown in guilt and grow ugly-ass facial hair? Because you think you killed me?”
I open my mouth to say something, but no words come out.
“Listen, fuck face. You didn’t kill me. That bastard Cameron did. If you’re going to hate on anyone, hate on him, not yourself.”
My eyes water. I try to move my arms to touch Frank, but they’re so heavy and my shoulder throbs. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let you go in there like that. What were we thinking? Why didn’t you let me go first?”
“Because it wasn’t supposed to happen that way. If I didn’t go first, you’d b
e here.”
“I’d rather be there than have you there.”
Frank leans closer and tries to poke me in the chest, but his arm doesn’t seem to reach. “Not only you would be here, but Pooja, Juliet, they’d be here too.” Frank smiles his signature grin. “It’s kind of nice here, Riley. You’ll see someday, a long time from now.”
“I wish it were me.”
“Well it’s not. And nobody else wishes that. Stop being a martyr. Do you know that I’m a hero? Let me be the hero. Let it be me who saved all of your lives. Don’t try to steal my thunder.”
I smirk. “You always were a narcissist.”
Frank points to Penny’s house down the street. “Megan’s fucked up too, you know. You guys match that way, also. Both of you struggle. What’s happening in there now is going to fuck her up even more.”
Sitting up straight, I look toward Penny’s townhouse. “Should I go get her? Can I stop it?”
Frank shakes his head and laughs. “There you go again, trying to save everyone.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Don’t do anything. Be there for her if she needs you. Let her deal with her pain while you deal with yours.”
I don’t want to deal with my pain. I don’t want to deal with anything. I want to be young again, in high school, popular, carefree.
Frank reads my mind. “No going back, Riley. The past is in the past. I’m sorry I’m gone. You’re going to be okay though. I promise.”
My shoulder aches as I try to reach him. “Don’t go,”
“I have to. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that my death has made you question your life, but I need you to keep living. Get your ass in gear, Riley.”
With a jolt, I sit up, and suddenly I’m by myself in the Buick.
“Frank?” I call to the empty car. Get my ass in gear? I punch the roof over my head. “I must be losing my fucking mind,” I say to nobody. Obviously Frank wasn’t with me.
I look to the street as a BMW with New York plates drives by. Big Joe. He’s here for Megan too.
Megan
Penelope leads me out of the kitchen carrying a plate of crackers and some napkins. “I’d be so happy if we could spend the summer together.”
“Me too! I love the beach, and I can teach Brendan to swim.” The thought of hanging with my new family makes me smile. I give myself a little squeeze.
Penny places the plate on the table next to us and joins me on the couch. “Oh, there’s only one thing.”
My heart beats faster as I sit up straight on the edge of the couch. “What’s that?”
She looks me right in the eyes, her bright smile turning to a determined frown. “I’ll need your help, you know, financially.”
I try not to show it on my face, but inside, I feel it, from my toes, up my legs, through my stomach to my heart. That horribleness of dread, the same dread I’d felt when I walked in on Ben talking to my dad in the penthouse.
Penny’s waiting for my response. I’m not going to cry, I repeat the thought over and over in my head. Finally, I squeak out words. “You want my money?”
Penelope stands and putters around the living room. “God knows you have a lot of it, right? If you can’t share with your mom and your little brother, then who can you share with? You won’t even miss it. Ask your dad. He won’t miss it; that’s for sure. Brendan and I can’t afford this townhouse much longer, and I thought if you tap into your trust fund or something, I could get us a nice big house by the beach.”
It’s as if I’m seeing her for the first time. Her story is bullshit. She never wanted you. It’s been about the money this whole time. How could I have thought my dad would lie to me? I imagine myself yelling at her. In my mind, I’m throwing things around the house and we’re fighting and…
Brendan. He’s just a little boy. The poor kid.
Finally, she stops moving and looks to me. “What do you say?”
I don’t yell, and I don’t throw things. I avoid her eyes and say, “I’ll see what I can do.” Then I excuse myself to go to bed.
Alone, I let myself cry. I cry because I’m never going to have that normal I’m searching for. I cry for the loss of my mother… again. I cry because every time I let my guard down, I get trampled on. Every time I let my guard down. Every. Single. Time.
I listen for the door to Penelope’s room to close, and then I grab my bag and sneak out of the front door. No note, no goodbye. I run, again, like always.
The fresh air hits my face, and the tears dry on my cheeks as soon as they fall. I remember when Ben and I had sat in the library on Valentine’s night and I’d asked him, What’s wrong with us?
I’d believed her. I’d turned my back on the person who has never let me down, my dad, my rock, and for a second, I believed her. You want it too bad, Chase had said.
I start down the street, shivering, knowing I shouldn’t be walking by myself in the middle of the night. I’m not even sure where I’m going until I smack right into him.
Dad.
His big eyes look down at me, his wrinkles deep with concern. He doesn’t say anything, nor do I. He was right. He’s always right. When I sigh, he pulls me into one of his super hugs and, with his arm around me, walks me to his car. I pretend not to notice the Buick parked down the street or the way my heart thuds in response.
Dad drives me over the George Washington Bridge instead of down the Turnpike to NJU. While he drives, I text Penny.
I left. I don’t think I can do this with you.
Then I put my phone into Do Not Disturb mode and zip it into my coat pocket.
Dad and I don’t speak the entire ride into the city. I purposely try not to think about Penny as I look out the window and watch the people, alive all around me.
At his building, the elevator opens. I step into the foyer, smelling the familiar scent of the flower arrangement our housekeeper replaces every week. This is my home. This is where I belong. I try to believe it as Dad walks to the bar and pours us two whiskeys.
“Maybe you can use this,” he says.
I gulp before he even hands me the glass. “I’m sorry,” I squeak.
He sits on the couch and pats the seat next to him. “You never have to tell me you’re sorry.”
When I sit, he hands me a glass. As the liquid slides down my throat, I cringe at the burning sensation.
Dad grins. “Cleans out your mind.”
I take another sip and face him. “I should have trusted you. I should have known it was all lies. I should have listened. You were being honest with me, trying not to give me hope when this whole thing was doomed to blow up in my face.”
He presses his lips together and shakes his head. “I hope you know that I wished I wasn’t right. That she would meet you and see what a gift you are. But that’s not entirely true.”
I jerk back and look into his face. “What do you mean?”
He shifts in his seat and takes another swig from his glass, swirling the ice so that it moves in circles. “I haven’t exactly been honest with you.”
I touch his arm. “No, Daddy. You were right about Penny all along. She only wanted the money. I know she has nothing on you except whatever lies she’s made up. She told me you wanted to abort me. I know that’s all bullshit.”
Dad stares at me, his shoulders sagging. “Penny is a terrible person, that’s true. I never wanted to give you up—that’s true too. Always, through all of this, through all of her, I loved you more than life itself. I’ve wanted you from the first moment she told me about you.”
His words make me smile through my tears. I know I can trust those words because he’s shown me over and over.
Dad places his glass on the table in front of us and turns to me. “But, Amelia, I haven’t been completely honest with you.”
“I don’t understand.” I study his features—his eyes, his brow, the way he tilts his chin. I know him well enough to see that he’s unsettled. I shake my head, warding off whatever he’s going to say. “We don
’t have any secrets. Not anymore. That’s it.” I look into his eyes. “Right?”
He squeezes his eyes shut, and then he stares at the floor. He looks old. Defeated. He’s never seemed that way to me before, except maybe the day in the diner when he told me about Penny’s existence. “What is it, Dad?” I ask, but I’m afraid of the answer.
He glances back up at me and sighs, “Amelia.”
I raise my eyebrows and stick out my chin, waiting.
“Um.” He clears his throat.
My father fumbles words as often as he fumbles footballs—never. “What, Dad? Spit it out.”
Then it dawns on me. Oh my God, he’s dying! He’s going to die, like Annie did. I’m going to lose him!
My face heats, and my chest heaves. Dad’s eyes scan me, and he grabs my hands. “Amelia? What’s wrong?”
I start to cry again. “Oh, Daddy! You’re sick? Please, no. I can’t lose you too.”
He shakes his head from side to side. “No! No, no, no. Amelia, listen to me.”
I jump off of the couch, pacing in front of him. “You’re dying. You’re trying to tell me. It’s too hard for you to say it, but I see it in your face.”
He stands and blocks my movement. I put my hand over my mouth and stare at him in horror as he grabs my elbows. “Princess, no, honey, I’m not dying. Look at me.”
I look him in the eyes and process his words. “You’re not?”
“No, baby girl. I’m as healthy as a goddamn horse.”
I shake my head again and pull away. “Then what?”
“I’m not dying. I’m… gay.”
I freeze, staring at him. Did I hear that correctly?
He cringes, watching, waiting for a reaction I’m not ready to give.
Then he furrows his brow and looks past me. “I’m gay,” he says again. “It sounds weird to say out loud.”
I raise my eyebrows and study him. Gay? Did he say “gay”? A lifetime of memories flood my mind. He’s never had a serious girlfriend—I thought because of me. He was never one of those guys who partied or bragged about banging random fans—I thought because he’s a shy, to-himself type of guy. He’s gay? I continue to look up at him, waiting for him to break out into laughter, but he doesn’t. We stand there and stare at each other.
She Runs Away (The Sheridan Hall Series Book 2) Page 26