by Naomi Niles
Penny nodded. There were tears in her eyes now. “I think… I think that’ll do.” She let out a loud sniff and laughed miserably. “Sorry I’m crying all over you, and my face is covered in snot.”
“Penny, I’ll be honest with you,” I said, smiling in spite of myself: “I’ve never wanted you more than I do right now.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Penny
I ran just a few steps behind him all the way into the bedroom, casting off clothes as I went. By the time I had reached his bed, I was wearing only an orange bra and a pair of embarrassingly plain blue underwear.
I slid into bed beside him. He had stripped down to his boxers and turned to face me with a look of mingled excitement and hunger. “Sometimes I forget what you look like when you’re not wearing all those clothes.”
“Do you really?” I asked, laughing.
“No, of course not. Do you remember when we made love in the grass outside the auto parts store? I’ll never forget the sight of you sitting there cross-legged in just your underwear.”
“We’re lucky we didn’t get caught.” I rolled over until I was lying on top of his belly. He smiled and placed his hands on my hips, but didn’t attempt anything more than that. “Sometimes my dad used to go out and inspect the place late at night, just in case there were robbers. He stopped doing it as much after he got cancer, or I would have advised against having sex in the open.”
“Yeah, I’m glad you didn’t tell me that before,” said Darren.
“Really? What would you have done?”
His eyes twinkled with barely suppressed mischief. “Probably the same thing we ended up doing.”
“Mmmm. I guess it is more exciting when you know your dad could walk in and catch you at any moment. One time, Nic walked into my room when I was dancing in just my underwear—I had forgotten to lock the door—but that’s the worst thing anyone’s ever caught me doing.”
Darren leaned up and kissed me, stroking my back with his calloused hands. “Is that the worst thing you’ve ever done?”
I batted my eyelashes with an expression of innocence. “Well, one time I knew this guy…”
“Oh, yeah?”
I ran my hands along his collarbone and down against his chest. “And he was always trying to talk me into doing these terrible things.”
“Like what?”
“Like leading the police on a high-speed chase, and jumping out of a plane, and making love under the stars…”
“Sounds like a great guy. As I recall, most of those things were your idea.”
“Maybe, but he definitely egged me on. I think he was trying to corrupt me, maybe because he thought it was funny?”
“Maybe he just liked seeing your wilder side,” said Darren, running his fingers along the band of my underwear. “You’re so innocent that there’s a thrill in seeing you drink a whole shot of whiskey that there wouldn’t be if somebody else did it. Nic could do naughty things all day, and I would just roll over and take a nap. But when you decide to be naughty, the world sits up and takes notice.”
“Well, I hope they haven’t taken too much notice,” I said, blushing. “Otherwise we’ll probably end up in jail for evading arrest…and for making love under the stars…”
“Is there a really law against that?” asked Darren, absently twining one finger around a lock of my hair.
“There ought to be. That would make it more fun.”
“As I recall, it was plenty fun on its own. You were so nervous and scared those first couple times, and now look at you—you just climb on top of me with such confidence, like we’ve done this a hundred times.”
“Maybe you really have corrupted me.”
“Do you mind?”
“No,” I said laughing, and bent low to kiss him, my hair falling into his face. He made a noise that was halfway between a guffaw and a giggle, taking my chin in his hands and caressing it.
I straightened myself up so that I was sitting on his tummy. “Do you like my belly button? Nic says it’s one of the better belly buttons she’s seen, but I haven’t seen a lot of other belly buttons, so I can’t really compare it.”
“It’s my favorite belly button,” said Darren, lazily tracing a circle around it with one finger. “I always forget how skinny you are until we’re like this. You tend to wear very loose-fitting clothing that makes you look thicker than you really are.”
“Do I?” I grinned and placed my hands over my eyes as though trying to hide. “Thank you for saying that.”
“Saying what?” Darren smiled that bemused smile he always seemed to have when we were together.
“That I’m skinny. I sometimes worry that I’m not skinny enough.”
“Girl, you’re tiny,” he said, raising himself to kiss my belly button. “To me, you’re perfectly proportioned.”
“I’ve always been self-conscious about my looks, but it’s gotten a lot better since we’ve started dating. One time I was babysitting for a family that goes to my church. They had the two most adorable little boys, ages three and eight. I was cuddling with the baby when the older one grabbed a tape measure and informed me, ‘Penny, your butt is twenty-three inches wide.’ I was like, ‘Thanks…’”
“It’s perfect,” said Darren. “Everything about you is perfect.”
I smiled down at him bashfully, feeling very pleased. “I’m glad that you think that. I could have a boyfriend who didn’t like my butt or thought I was annoying or talked too much in bed, and that wouldn’t be very much fun.”
“I love how you just talk and talk,” said Darren, eyes bright with amusement. “You don’t really do that with anybody else.”
“No, just you and Nic because you’re my squad. It’s so funny to me because people who don’t know me really well think I’m really quiet. But with you and her, I’m the opposite of that.” I shrugged, and his smile widened—I don’t know what it was about my shoulders that delighted him so much. “I’m glad you don’t mind.”
“I don’t. I love the expressions you make when you’re talking. Like the think-face you make when you squint with one eye, and the squinty grin you make where you scrunch up your nose and face. You’re just the most adorable human.”
“Thank you!” To show him my appreciation, I leaned over and shook my head wildly from side to side, smothering him in hair and giggles. “You know, you’re not so bad yourself.”
“Oh yeah?” said Darren, slowly stroking my leg.
“No, you’re very good to me. I’m quite lucky to have someone who appreciates me so much.”
“Well, you’re a good person to appreciate. Sometimes I don’t know where to begin looking at you.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, blushing.
“Well, there’s just so much to take in at once. There’s your cute, hilarious face… your hair falling just over those tiny shoulders… your pale, perfect nips… your baby abs… your wide hips and little legs that were made for dancing… just everything about you. How could God make something so perfect?”
I shrugged. “I guess he must’ve spent a lot of time on me.”
“Must have.” Grabbing my wrists gently, he slowly rose until we were both seated on the bed facing each other. Then, without any prompting, he leaned down and planted his lips just below my shoulders, beginning to kiss me aggressively.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Darren
Penny fell asleep in just her panties, her arms wrapped around me, her lips brushing against my chest, mouth slightly open. That was how I found her when I awoke the next morning, bathed in the gray light of dawn.
It was a joy just to lay there holding her. I almost wanted to call in sick so that we could go on spending the day in bed together—not doing anything in particular, just holding each other and talking. She was perfect in so many ways—so cute, so sensitive, so loyal, so devoted—and I just wanted to snuggle with her and tell her exactly how perfect she was.
Her eyes were still shut tightly. I leaned
down and kissed her on the tender part of her ears, then brushed my lips against her neck and cheeks. She stirred slowly and smiled as she realized where she was and whose breath mingled with hers.
Penny sat up, blinking groggily and smacking her lips, her hair wild and uncombed. Her first instinct was to reach for a sheet or blanket with which to cover her tiny breasts; but not finding any nearby, she placed one arm across her chest and waved with her free hand, blushing but radiant.
“Good morning,” she said, yawning. She reached to cover her mouth with her other hand, momentarily forgetting that she was using it to hide her boobs.
“Hey, you. Did you sleep well?”
“Mmmm, better than ever. Except I woke up to a weird tickle on the side of my neck and came to find out some boy was kissing me.”
“Guilty,” I said, raising both hands in the air. “I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”
“I’ll think about it. I had the most horrible dream last night that I was separated from you and couldn’t find you. I think we were wandering through Boston and you got lost in the crowd in the subway. And I wasn’t carrying my cell phone, so I couldn’t call you. I hadn’t felt so anxious in ages. And then when I woke up and realized you were still there, it was the greatest feeling. Sometimes it almost feels too good to be real, the kind of thing that can’t last or I might end up being perfectly happy.”
“Well, what would be wrong with that?” I asked.
“I just—are we allowed to be this happy?” She shivered; goosebumps were forming on her bare arms in the cold gray light. “I guess in the back of my mind, I’ve always thought you were only allowed a certain amount of happiness, and if you used it up too soon, you were doomed to be miserable for the rest of your life.”
“Nope, that’s not how it works,” I said, smiling. Even though we had just slept together not six hours ago, I still wanted her. It never stopped.
“Maybe not. I just never expected to be dating the perfect person for me and living my perfect life.”
“Believe it.” Taking her arm by the wrist and drawing it down into her lap, I kissed her softly on the lips. Every time we kissed, her eyes widened in surprise, as though she had forgotten we were dating—as though she had never been kissed before.
***
And that was our life for the next month. Each morning we would take turns making breakfast. Penny continued to practice her pancakes, and within a few weeks she had smoothed all the lumps out. They were even beginning to form circles rather than misshapen blobs.
Dickie was released from the hospital about a week after the accident, and with the aid of a physical therapist, he was learning how to walk again without any trouble. Although Penny had predicted that he would give up on fixing up racecars after his near brush with death, he was back in the shop by the end of the summer working on a Mustang I bought with my winnings from the first race.
I wasn’t looking forward to having to explain to Penny that I planned to continue racing, but she bore the news more graciously than I had expected.
“I hope you don’t mind,” I told her one morning as we were making crepes, “but I’ve already made plans for tomorrow night.”
“You don’t have to apologize for wanting to do things without me,” said Penny. “Where are you going?”
“Well…” I hesitated. “There’s another race on the strip, and Adam has been trash-talking me all week. I figured an easy win tomorrow night would deflate his head a little.”
To my surprise, Penny smiled and kissed me on the cheek. “I think I would like that, too.”
She went back to minding the crepes while I looked on incredulously. “You’re not going to try to stop me at all?”
She shook her head. “I was never worried about you getting into an accident. You’re much too careful and more experienced than Dickie ever was. To be honest, I wasn’t surprised when I found out he had wrecked the Mustang. He was never good at navigating those hairpin curves, whereas you’ve never gotten so much as a scratch on your car. I’m fine with you racing as long as you don’t let him behind the wheel again.”
“Well, it’s going to be a while before he’s behind the wheel of anything,” I replied. “He’s learning how to walk again, but it’s slow going.”
When I walked into the garage that morning, I found Dickie sitting in a wheelchair in front of the new Mustang. The hood had been raised, and the smell of car exhaust mingled with the damp scent of the morning breeze. On the counter stood a gift basket and a small bottle of champagne with a chrome balloon attached.
“Where did you find all these admirers?” I asked. “You’re really milking this whole wheelchair thing, aren’t you?”
Dickie smiled a shrewd smile. “Is that any way to treat a poor cripple?”
“How’s the car coming?”
“I’m actually just about done here,” he said, rolling back a few paces. “You’ll need to take it out for a run before we can be really sure, but I think that ought to get you through tomorrow night.”
“You sure you don’t want to come with me?”
Dickie shook his head. He had been reluctant to use racecars even as a passenger ever since the accident. Privately, he had informed me that sometimes he still dreamed about the wreck, and awoke with the smell of smoke and singed hair in his nostrils.
“I wouldn’t want to slow you down,” he said. “I’ll just watch from the garage, and you can tell me how it compares to the last car. In the meantime, now that this one is just about finished, I’ll be getting to work on our next project.”
“Anything you need me to run to the store for?”
Dickie smiled knowingly. “No, but I’m sure you’ll be over there again before very long. I’ll let you know if I think of anything.”
He closed the hood and handed me the keys. I took the car out on the road and left the garage in a cloud of dust. The whole time, I kept thinking about what Penny had said—about how happiness is fleeting and maybe some things are too good to last. There were moments when I wondered if she was right.
But there was no reason she had to be. Penny’s perspective was a darkly fatalistic one steeped in cynicism, the overflow of a gloomy mind. Yes, I had a job that I loved and a girlfriend who loved me. But who was to say this was the pinnacle of happiness? Maybe my life hadn’t peaked yet. Maybe it was just getting started.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Penny
I left the house with Nic that morning at around 9:00am while Darren was still in the shower. We stopped for breakfast tacos at a local taco place, and as we were already running late, we ordered the food to go. I balanced the foil-wrapped tacos and hot sauce packets in my lap as we sped to work.
We spent much of the morning interviewing prospective managers to replace Dad. Each one seemed nuttier than the last, and after Nic had finished showing the last one to the door, she turned to me and said, “Have you ever thought about maybe not hiring a replacement?”
“And leave the store without a manager?” I replied. “I don’t know if we could carry on without one indefinitely. Unless you’re thinking of selling the store.”
“Not exactly.” She pulled up a stool and sat down across from me. “But I was thinking maybe together we could be co-managers. We’ve been running this place long enough that we both know the ins and outs of management. And with your people skills and my business and administrative skills, we might not even need a third person. It’s something that I think you ought to seriously consider, at least.”
I thought about it quietly for a moment as I finished eating my bacon avocado taco. On its face, it seemed like such a bad idea, but the only real objection I could think of was that we weren’t capable of doing it. “I’ll definitely think about it. If the rest of our interviews end up being as bad as those last few, we might have to just run the place ourselves.”
“We’ve been doing a pretty good job of it so far,” Nic pointed out. “Remember the week after your dad died, you
were so worried we were going to run this place into the ground, but so far there have been no major disasters, and everything is ship-shape.”
“It helps that we were basically running it on our own even before he died. I sometimes wonder if that was the reason he left us in charge during those last couple months. He could’ve easily brought in outside help, but he thought we were capable of running the place on our own.”
“And he wasn’t wrong,” said Nic. “Your dad’s confidence in you has never been misplaced.”
“No,” I said, smiling to myself, and a warm sense of reassurance flooded through me. “No, I guess not.”
While I was throwing away the remains of my breakfast, the door chimed, and the hulking figure of Adam came into the room. Nic and I exchanged glances of irritation. Adam, however, whistled obliviously as he strode to the counter.
“You know what I hate,” he said, “is when somebody knows your name but deliberately calls you something else instead. Ever since I started passing around flyers, people have started calling me ‘the flyer guy.’ ‘Hey, flyer guy!’ And I’m like, ‘You’ve known me for ten years, my name is Adam.’”
“Mmmm, sounds tough,” said Nic.
“I just feel very demeaned by it. I have a name. My parents did not christen me ‘The Flyer Guy Jenkins.’”
“Did you actually come in here for something, or did you just want to complain?”
“I’m just tired of being mistreated, you know. It seems like everywhere I go lately, people are making fun of me. I go to the gym, I shower at least five times a week, I have a steady girlfriend—”
“You don’t have a girlfriend, Adam.”
“I could have one.”
Nic turned to me and smirked, and I burst out laughing.
“For your information,” said Adam, puffing his chest out proudly, “I’ve been talking to a girl on OKCupid.”
“Oh yeah?” I raised my brows in surprise. “When did she get out of prison?”