by Renee Fowler
“This doesn’t have to change anything for us, does it?”
“I don’t know. I can’t help but think… Liam, why would you want this? I’m stuck like this, but you don’t have to be stuck with me.”
“You and me, stuck together, is that such an awful thing?”
I shake my head.
“Penny, I love being stuck with you. You are exactly the same person I loved a week ago.”
Am I? I don’t feel the same. All I can do is shrug.
“I’ve always adored the way you tell the truth. The way you see things differently.”
“But it’s because my brain is screwed up, Liam.”
“Is that the way you see this? Because that’s not the way I see it at all.”
“I love you, but-”
Liam presses a finger against my lips to shush me. “No, buts. You love me, and I love you. That’s all that matters.”
“What if I say the wrong thing and embarrass you?”
“Luckily I’m not easily embarrassed. What if I embarrass you?”
“Sometimes I speak without thinking, or I don’t think about it the right way. I’m going to hurt your feelings.”
“I might hurt your feelings too, Penny. It happens. If people are stuck together long enough, all those things happen.” Liam reaches inside his coat pocket and withdraws a small box. When he opens it and I see what's inside, my heart bangs within the confines of my ribcage. A smile I can’t contain spreads across my face. “I want to be stuck with you for the rest of my life, Penny Abbott.”
He has barely slipped it on my finger when I grab his face and kiss him. Has it really only been five days since my lips have grazed against his?
Somehow that kiss turns into my arms wrapped around his neck and him pulling me down on the floor with him. I am euphoric with the feel of his hair and skin beneath my fingers, his tongue against my neck. I get lost in a haze of lemon and leather and the clean, masculine taste of his skin. The sound of my pantyhose giving way with a whispered rip makes me ache to feel him inside me.
It happens clothes half on, clothes half off. I fall apart on top of him, shivering and shuddering, with a squeaky gasp pushed between his parted lips. He holds me against him with one hand curled behind my neck, the other gripping my hip. I’m still floating as I count his eyelashes and he whispers so sweetly, “Oh, Penny. Oh, darling. Penny. Penny. Penny.” Like a beautiful song I’ll never grow tired of.
Chapter 25
Liam
I’m still inside Penny as we wipe the smeared lipstick off each other’s faces. “Was that a yes?” I ask.
She grins down at me. “Yes, that was a yes.”
I would love nothing more than to hold her like that for an eternity, but patrons are already arriving for the gala, and I need to go check on Carrie and Seth before the performance. The two have been squabbling like children here lately.
Penny ambles off me. She steps out of the one shoe she’s still wearing to peel the ruined pantyhose down her legs and fling them in the trash.
“Sorry about that.”
Her smile is sweet and sincere. “Nothing to be sorry about.”
We take a moment to arrange our clothes. Penny smoothes down her dress and steps back into her shoes with bare feet and bare legs. She leans up to wipe at a spot on the side of my neck, probably more lipstick.
I pick up her hand and lift it to my mouth to press my lips to the knuckle above her ring finger. “Is this ring okay? We can pick something else out if you want. I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”
“I don’t really like jewelry, but it works.”
I swallow back a laugh at her candor, which I still adore, but finally I’m able to make a bit more sense of it. My pretty, enigmatic Penny is less of a mystery to me now, but still every bit as captivating.
For a moment, after she tucked that feather in my pocket, I feared the worst. She had come only to say goodbye. Perhaps that was her original intent, but thank god I was able to talk some sense into her.
When we find them standing ready off stage, Seth and Carrie aren’t arguing, which is a nice change as of late, but they are separated by a large gap. Seth studies his nails while Carrie hugs her shoulders and stares towards the opposite direction.
Whatever differences they’re experiencing personally, the two are true performers and on stage they emote and behave appropriately.
I wrote this piece, about a beautiful statue reanimated to life by a kiss, for Penny. About Penny. It’s a shame I don’t get to see her perform it, but the feel of her hand, small and warm, pressed against mine as we watch from the wings is consolation enough.
Penny has never seen the piece in its entirety, but she did construct the blue and grey costume that Carrie wears. I have no doubt she’ll give me her honest opinion at the conclusion, good, bad, or somewhere in between.
“What did you think?” I ask as the pair bow to the tune of applause.
Penny rests her cheek against my arm, and a hand on my chest. “I loved it.”
Seth has barely wandered off stage when he scurries closer and snags Penny’s wrist in his hand. “Is this what I think it is?”
He really is quite the actor, I’ll give him that. I don’t think a soul present would question his gleeful shock and disbelief that I’ve proposed and Penny has accepted. I’d tasked him earlier with reaching out to his friend and getting her here tonight so I could pop the question. Not because of the gala, but I figured New Years Eve would be an apt time. I’d originally planned on pulling her aside somewhere private closer to midnight, but when the opportunity presented itself earlier, I couldn’t resist.
Carrie wanders closer to offer her congratulations as well. She gives Penny a tight hug. Then Seth and Carrie disappear to go change so they can mix and mingle with the patrons infiltrating the stage and the rest of the theater.
“You ready for this?” I ask, grasping Penny’s hand.
She groans under her breath. “Ready or not.”
“That’s the spirit.”
Penny has expressed her displeasure at attending these events to me in the past, but for the first time I understand her reluctance a bit better. To the casual observer, I doubt they can tell, but I notice the plastic smile she keeps fixed on her face, the way she rubs her palm against her hip, or twists her fingers in her hair, or taps one foot as she makes small talk. I’ve spent a fair amount of time reading and learning these past few days, trying to understand Penny better. It’s the first time I understand what a monumental effort these seemingly simple things are for her.
When she spots Foster, the fake smile fades away and her entire body goes rigid beside me. She angles herself away from him and says in a low voice, “What’s he doing here?”
I’m still lost in regards to the relationship between these two. They seemed to be getting on better after her surgery. “I spoke with him a few days ago. I wanted to get his blessing, and-.”
“Liam, I don’t want to see him.”
“It couldn’t hurt to say hello, could it?”
Penny leans up to whisper close to my ear. “He knew the whole time. They both did. Since I was eight years old, and they hid it from me. He lied to me for years.”
Rubbing her shoulders, I tip my chin down and blow out a short breath. “Penny, I understand why that’s upsetting, but perhaps they thought they were doing the right thing. It’s not necessarily black or white.”
Her eyes search mine for several moments, then she sighs. “Maybe you’re right.”
Penny trudges along beside me. “Hi, Foster. Sorry I hung up on you the other day.”
“No worries.” He embraces her, then holds her back by the shoulders, and stares down towards her feet. “It looks like you’re really up and about now. You’ll be back on the stage before long.”
“I don’t think so. I’m finished with that.”
“What are you going to do instead?”
“She made the costumes for tonight's show,” I point out.<
br />
“They were beautiful,” Foster says. “Well, whatever you end up doing, I’ve never had to worry about you like I do your sister. I don’t know about that boy either.” He pauses to shake his head, then takes her hands and stares down towards her fingers. “It looks like you said yes.”
Penny presses her lips together into a slight smile and nods.
“Congratulations, Penelope.”
“I hate when you call me that. Will you please call me Penny?”
Foster blinks at her a few times. “Of course I will.” He hugs her again and leans forward to whisper something in her ear.
She stares over his shoulder, widening her eyes to maintain her composure. “O-Okay. You too.” Penny starts to pull away, then seems to think better of it. She returns his hug and gives him a small peck on the cheek, then extricates herself from his embrace and turns to me. “I’m going to go hide out for a little bit now.”
“Do you need company?”
Penny shakes her head. “Nope. You know where to find me if you do.” Her eyes flick up towards the balcony, then Foster and I both watch her wander away through the clumps of people gathered.
Not too long after, closer to midnight, I find Penny tucked away in the recessed sound booth. I slide into the empty seat beside her. “See anything interesting from up here?”
“I guess it depends on what you consider interesting.” Penny gets up from her spot and settles herself on my lap, tucking her head up near my neck. “In my opinion, yes. All kinds of things.”
“What kinds of things?”
“Can you keep a secret?”
“Yes.”
“Will you?”
I smile against her temple. “For you? Always.”
Penny went on to point out an older man with a bad hair piece who’d been watching some sporting event on his phone while his wife, girlfriend, or partner remains unaware. She suspects that Roselyn and Jace had snuck off somewhere together, then came back with dishevelled clothes and mussed hair, returning to their respective dates. She also spotted a few other trivial oddities while hidden away up behind tinted glass.
“You are quite the observationalist, Penny Abbott.”
She hums a small murmur.
“What did Foster say to you earlier?” I ask.
“You’re being nosey again, Liam.”
“You don’t have to tell me.”
She lets out a soft small. “He said he loves me and he’s proud of me, but I don’t know.”
“What’s not to know?”
“If I should trust him or not.”
“You’re a very loveable person, and you’ve done plenty of things to be proud of, so this time I’d say you should.”
“I’m not very good at forgiving, am I?”
“You can’t be good at everything. But you eventually managed to forgive me. It only took you ten years and a few months.”
Penny laughs and snorts at the same time, then all the joy drains out of her voice. “Are you sure about this, Liam?”
“About what?”
“About wanting to get married.”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. Are you sure about it?”
“I wouldn’t have said yes if I wasn’t.” Penny intertwines her fingers with mine and pulls my arms around her more firmly. “It’s almost midnight. Should we get back down there?”
“Next year. For the rest of this year, you’re all mine.”
Epilogue
Penny
Six years later
Avarie tore into the wrapping paper, and let out an excited squeal at uncovering the birthday present concealed within. She held it up for everyone to see, jumping up and down a bit. The plastic tiara covered in glitter and rhinestones went flying off her head to land near Liam’s feet. She pouted until he got it fixed on top of her blonde hair just so.
Laughing, Seth grasps my arm and leans over to whisper in my ear. “My god. She’s such a little diva.”
I can’t very well disagree with him. Avarie might have my pin straight hair, slender nose, and small frame, but she doesn’t act a thing like me. She must get it from Liam.
Not that I’m complaining. When I found out I was pregnant, and for the first few years of my daughters life, I worried incessantly that she would turn out like me, but Avarie is the exact opposite of shy and awkward. Before she was born I also worried quite a lot that motherhood would be one of those things that didn’t come naturally, but the second I laid eyes on her all those worries were instantly forgotten. It was love at first sight.
Her middle name, Joy, has proved to be very fitting. Avarie has brought nothing but joy into our lives. She’s the sweetest surprise I’ve ever had the pleasure of receiving.
As far as we can tell she was conceived on New Years Eve, the night Liam proposed to me. The week prior, during my private pity party, as Seth called it, I wasn’t exactly functioning at my best. Chances are good I didn’t remember to take my birth control a few of those days.
Looking back at that brief rough spot, I feel a little silly. I’ve always known I was a bit strange. Having a word for that strangeness doesn’t change much. If anything, it’s a weight off. I don’t have to wonder why some things are hard for me and easy for others. I never stop to question why I’m attracted to certain items or motions. It just is. I just am. The world and many of the people who inhabit it don’t always make complete sense to me, but I’ve finally made sense of myself, and found peace with it.
Avarie rubs her palms together in anticipation before assaulting the shimmery pink wrapping paper surrounding a particularly large box. She lets out an ear piercing squeal, and I let out a little sigh when I catch sight of the karaoke machine that includes a microphone and speakers. Liam catches my eye and gives me a knowing smile. She’s going to drive us insane with that thing.
Liam gently urges her towards Foster. “Tell your grandpa thank you.”
For all the bitterness and hostility I held against Foster for so long, he’s always treated Avarie the same as his other grandchild, with kindness, love, and a tendency to spoil her rotten.
Speaking of spoiling my daughter rotten, Seth and Carrie do a fine job of it as well. I give them both a look as Avarie descends on the small mountain of gifts they’ve brought.
“Don’t look at me,” Carrie whispers. “I told him it was too much.”
I smile and shrug, letting them know all is well.
Seth and Carrie spent over a year contentious and bitter towards one another. The two used to drive Liam nuts at the theater, and me as well. Being friends with both of them felt impossible for a time, and I often got stuck in the middle of their petty feuds and drama.
Years ago Seth hinted I might be the one to tame him, which I doubt very much even if I’d had the inclination, but somehow Carrie was. I’m not sure what changed exactly, but now they are inseparable, on stage and off, and have been for several years.
When Avarie comes closer to say thank you, Seth plucks the tiara off her head and rests it on his own, teasing. Shaking her head at him, Carrie whisks it away with a laugh. She fixes it back atop Avarie’s hair in exchange for a kiss on the cheek.
By the end of Avarie’s party, I’m exhausted and frazzled. Paige stays behind to help straighten up, and also to give our daughters a chance to play. The sound of static and a loud screech of feedback wafts up from downstairs. Cody’s voice booms, “Testing. Testing. One. Two. Three. Are you ladies ready to rock and roll? Yaaaoooh.”
“Dad didn’t happen to include any ear plugs with that thing, did he?” Paige asks.
“Afraid not.”
“At least he didn’t get her a drum set too. I swear, I think he’s trying to pay me back for being such an insufferable twat during my teenage years.”
“Maybe he’s hoping they’ll form a band.”
Paige widens her eyes at me and grins. “They really might for all we know.”
“It’s hard to say. Every single week Avarie wants to do
something different when she grows up.”
For whatever reason, she has no interest in ballet. Avarie is happy enough to dress up as a ballerina, but the structure and discipline required to dance didn’t appeal to her. After a few weeks of classes, she wanted to quit, and neither Liam nor I chose to force the issue. Both of us understand what a difficult road that can be. I’m not sure about Liam, but I’m almost relieved.
“She’s only five. She’ll figure it out. Look at me. I didn’t figure it out until I was twenty five. Cody still hasn’t figured it out, but I suppose he’s not quite finished growing up yet.” Paige lets out a long sigh.
Shortly after Ashley was born, Paige finished her degree, then she went back the following year to get accredited as an art therapist. She typically works with special needs children. It’s hard to say what Cody does. It changes so often I don’t bother to keep up with it.
“I was almost twenty nine,” I point out.
Paige rolls her eyes. “That’s not the same. You changed careers.”
I shrug, not bothering to elaborate. I still dance. Not everyday, and definitely not with the same intensity and focus as in the past. As time marches on, I have less and less need for it, but that’s what it was for me in the past, a need. I had to dance. It was all I knew, and there were moments I couldn’t separate myself from my desire to leap and bend and spin restlessly.
Looking back I can hardly imagine all the times I forced myself on stage. The vulnerability of it wore me thin in places that weren’t very thick to begin with. The more I performed, the more I needed dance to combat the stress of performing. It was a tedious and exhausting cycle that I didn’t recognize until I had to stop after my injury.
“It’s a damn shame you didn’t get knocked up a few months earlier. Then we could just have combined birthday parties.” Paige dumps a handful of soiled paper plates in the trash and hands me the dirty silverware. “Just think. It would be half the hassle and half the mess.”
“If only I had a time machine.”
A few hours later the house is quiet and put back in order. I’ve just finished scraping the icing off a small piece of birthday cake when Avarie wanders in the kitchen. She’s still wearing her tiara, but it sits askew on top of her head. Under one arm, she clutches a child’s manicure set she received as a gift.