Mars with Venus Rising

by Hope Toler Dougherty

  Penn managed to push down the swelling wad and twisted off the top of her water bottle. “Cut it out, you guys. It’s just my sandwich.” She pulled the cold liquid into her gummy mouth. Leave it alone. Please leave it alone. She swallowed. “I’ll sit with you at the water park.”

  “Oh, no, you don’t.” John reached for a carrot stick, keeping his eyes on Penn. “We’ve got a date with a roller coaster.”

  A date.

  But with a roller coaster? Not in this lifetime.

  Before she could answer, Krista grabbed the plastic bag containing the second triangle and examined the contents. “Is that...mayonnaise in there?” Her jaw dropped. “Looks like mayonnaise and peanut butter. Penn?”

  Andy grimaced. “Mayonnaise?”

  “So what if it is? It’s my sandwich.” She cocked her head, arched her eyebrow and waited, palm open, for Krista to return her lunch.

  Andy shuddered. “Mayonnaise.”

  John chuckled and shook his head. “To each her own.”

  “Especially if she’s expecting. Sounds kinda interesting to me.” Krista waved her baggy of ham and cheese at Penn. “Wanna trade halves?”

  9

  John crossed his arms against his chest. A determined smile lit his face. “It’s time, Penn. You know it. Come on. Let’s get in line.”

  “I don’t know it.” Penn clamped her teeth on her bottom lip. She skimmed over the crowd, hoping to find a familiar face that might distract John from his aim of getting her on that roller coaster.

  “My turn to choose the ride.” He pointed to the track partially hidden in tall trees. “I choose that one.”

  “I rode the Ferris wheel and the Paratrooper. I think I deserve some credit, for Pete’s sake.” She pivoted from the dips, twists, and hills of the coaster just in time to catch a whiff of pizzas that roiled her stomach.

  He snapped his fingers. “Snaps to you for having fun at an amusement park. You did have fun, right? You didn’t scream, cry, or throw up.”

  “Is that your idea of a compliment?” She twisted her ring around her finger and squeezed the smooth, round stone. Penn couldn’t remember much about those rides.

  Once John gathered her close on the Ferris wheel and left his arm draped across her shoulders, she had trouble appreciating the gorgeous scenery of the Laurel Highlands.

  Except for her racing heartbeat brought on by the height of the wheel and John’s thumb tapping the beat of a carnival song on her collarbone, the experience wasn’t so bad. She’d rank the anxiety level somewhere between taking a final exam and bungee jumping.

  With its ten umbrella-covered benches that rose and fell as the ride slowly rotated, the ride looked scarier than it turned out to be. In fact, the breeze stirred by the ride refreshed and calmed her.

  Or was that John’s hand on top of her fingers clenched around the safety bar?

  “And, although I still can’t believe it,’ he shook his head, “I rode the trolley and the carousel.”

  She clutched her left elbow. “We weren’t the only adults on those rides.”

  “True, but the other adults were accompanied by toddlers and preschoolers.”

  She tugged at the hem of her shirt, refusing to acknowledge the truth in his statement. “It’s tradition. I ride those rides every time I’m here.”

  “Come on. Let’s have this conversation in line.” Placing his hand on her shoulder, he led her to the long line for the roller coaster.

  “Wait a minute. I haven’t agreed to get on that thing.” She wanted to resist his argument, stand her ground, but her willful body took its place beside him.

  “Not yet, but I have at least thirty minutes to convince you you’ll love it. If you still want to wimp out when we get to the front, I’ll say, ‘go in peace.’“ He patted her shoulder. “You’ll be fine, Penn. You loved the other rides.”

  “Says you.” Her heart had risen up into her throat making real conversation a trial. Tears threatened to surface.

  “You giggled and sighed the whole time we were swinging through the air.” His eyes twinkled as he slanted a look at her. “I wondered if you’d turned into Trudy for a minute.”

  “Cute. You know how to talk to the ladies, huh?” Desperate for an idea to change his mind, Penn scanned the nearby booths. She pointed behind his back. “Look, there’s an ice cream kiosk. Let’s get some of that ice cream of the future.” She loved those little pearls of frozen mint chocolate. The cookies and cream was pretty good, too.

  “Great idea—after the ’coaster. I’ll treat for accomplishing our goal.”

  The line moved up.

  Her lungs forgot how to process oxygen. “Our goal? To scare me to death? To humiliate me when I scream bloody murder?” She sucked in more air, counted to ten, and released it to another count of ten.

  He shrugged. “Sometimes it’s important to shake things up a bit. Stepping outside the box you’ve erected around yourself helps you grow.”

  “Again—says you, Mr. Daredevil.”

  The light in his brown eyes extinguished. Furrows lined his forehead. “I’m not a daredevil, Penn. I just enjoy the life God’s given me. I want that for you, too.” He held her gaze for a moment and turned around. “Come on. Let’s go get a treat.”

  Penn’s stomach clenched. She grabbed his arm and squeezed. “Wait, John.” She did not want to ride that stupid roller coaster. She didn’t want to disappoint him, either. She wanted to soar with the eagles, like the verse in Psalms said, but years of standing on the sidelines weighed her down.

  Maybe John could be the person to help her break loose some of those chains.

  He shook his head. “We don’t have to do this. I’m sorry I pushed you, Penn.”

  She held up her hand. “Don’t talk me out of it now.” She closed her eyes. Live the life God gave her. She wanted to live that life, not hang back as usual. Penn studied the man half turned away from her, ready to help her take a baby step outside her box. “I really don’t want to do this, but...I think I have to.” Fluttery sensations filled her chest. “I know I have to.”

  “You don’t have to. You—”

  “Stop.” She pinned him with her I’m-serious-don’t-mess-with-me teacher eyes. “I’ve made up my mind, but you have to promise some things under the threat of excruciating pain if you ever break the promise.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted. He arched a brow. “Oh? And what do I have to promise?” John stepped forward again.

  She swiped her hand over her mouth. “That you won’t laugh at me. That what happens in that car stays in that car. That you never mention how many times or how loud I scream—to anyone else—or to me.”

  “Is that all?” The twinkle reappeared in those dark eyes.

  “Maybe.” She wiped her clammy hands on her shorts. “If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  ~*~

  Penn sagged on the picnic table bench with Krista and waited for the stragglers to appear from the outer reaches of the park. Exhausted, mentally and physically, she looked forward to the ride back home. Maybe she’d catch a nap on the way. Fortify herself before facing her aunts and their questions about her day.

  Wouldn’t they be thrilled with her foray into amusement park rides? As much as she loved them, on earlier trips to the park, their pleas for the exciting rides had yielded nothing but more orbits on the carousel.

  She stretched her legs and smiled, remembering the roller coaster experience.

  At the front of the line, John had seen the fear emanating from every pore in her body. He’d changed his mind. “You’re trembling, and you’re white as a sheet.” He’d grabbed her arm. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  John had shuffled backward two steps when she’d bellowed, “No.”

  Jumping to attention, the teenage ride attendant raised his eyebrows and asked if she needed help. A knock-out drug might have been helpful. Though her breathing came in short puffs, she squeaked out a few wor
ds. “No. I’m doing this. You have to help me.”

  She hadn’t seen a thing during the ride. She’d closed her eyes as tight as a bank on Sunday.

  The couple who shared the car with them screamed behind her, but their screams mixed with giggles.

  Her screams never relented, bouncing off the trees and echoing through the park.

  When the eternity ended, the car bumped and lurched along the tracks to the exit shoot.

  John’s deep laughter rewarded her bravery. “You did it, Penn! Wow. Was that great, or what?” He hugged her to him and rested his chin on top of her head.

  She’d opened her eyes to his searching gaze inches from her face.

  “How are you? How do you feel?” Concern hovered on his countenance, but something else accompanied it. Was it pride? Delight?

  She couldn’t figure it out. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t speak. Her bones had departed from her body. She drank in huge calming breaths to battle the exhilaration of the ride. And the intensity in his eyes. Her fingers ached from her death grip on the safety bar locked in front of them. She still trembled, but lightness surrounded her heart. She’d smiled at him.

  His eyes dropped to her mouth. He leaned toward her and...

  Would he really have kissed her?

  She’d never know. Trudy and her pals had spied them, screaming their names from the path near the ride’s entrance. The spell broke, and she crawled out of her seat, a difficult feat for someone without bones.

  Andy’s voice brought her back to the present as he led the count off to make sure everyone was present. Number ten didn’t answer. “Hey, who’s number ten?”

  “Jack.” A voice called from the back of the group.

  Jack Williams, a rising senior.

  Penn had taught him Algebra II two years ago. Good student. Not a bad kid.

  Andy huffed and slapped his hands on his waist. “Somebody call him and tell him, ‘This bus is leaving, and he better get here. Pronto.’ He knew the departure time.”

  “His phone is off. It went straight to voicemail.” Amy Hinnant, the probable class valedictorian, pushed her phone back into her shorts pocket.

  Andy pointed a finger at a boy hiding behind Amy. “Daniel, you two were supposed to be a group. Why are you here without him? Where is he? Spill.”

  Daniel Wooten shuffled around Amy and shrugged. “We were together till about two or so.”

  Andy’s mouth tightened. “What happened at two?”

  Daniel cleared his throat. “We were standing in line at the Potato Shack to buy some fries. We saw some guys from the Pine-Richland football team. We know ‘em from camp. Their youth group came today, too. Jack started talking with one of the girls from that group. He decided to ride the Ferris wheel with her.” He peeked at Andy through his long, side swept bangs.

  Andy rubbed the back of his neck. “And?”

  “And I didn’t want to ride the lame Ferris wheel again. So...” Hunching his shoulders, Daniel stuffed his hands into his pockets.

  Lame? The Ferris wheel had turned into one of her favorite rides, especially with John beside her. With his arm around her.

  “So, what...?” Andy kept a lid on his growing frustration. “He went with the girl, and you...?”

  Daniel hung his head and starred at his leather flip-flops. “I started hanging with Amy and her group.”

  Andy grunted and rubbed his face. “I’ve got a bus load of exhausted people ready to hit the road and one AWOL Romeo.”

  “Come on.” John thumped him on his back. “Let’s go look for Don Juan. The ladies can keep the troops in line.”

  Easy for him to say. Her legs felt like pudding.

  “Fine.” Andy pointed to the two oldest boys. “But Daniel, you and James are going with us. That way we can split up and cover more territory.” His voice didn’t invite questions or complaints. “The rest of you stay right here at these tables. Do not make any trouble.” He reached for Krista and kissed her temple. “Sorry, babe. We’ll try to find him as quick as we can. We’ll call when we’ve got him.”

  John smiled at Penn. “You OK?”

  She nodded.

  He glanced at the teens, several of whom had already stretched out on the grass. “I don’t think you’ll have a problem with these guys. They’re ready for the bus. See ya in a few.”

  ~*~

  Forty-five minutes and one half-hearted, teenage apology later, Penn leaned back in her seat. She would have been asleep by now, but John’s leg brushed against her every time the bus swerved or ran over a bump in the road. The zings that sailed through her body acted like a double shot of caffeine.

  John didn’t seem affected by her presence. His eyes closed, he sat with his hands folded in his lap, the picture of relaxation.

  She shifted to study his profile. Her gaze traveled down his long, straight nose and skipped to his cheek where she knew a dimple crinkled when he smiled. She discovered a faint scar running along his high cheekbone perpendicular to his jaw line. What happened to mar his otherwise perfect face?

  Eyes popped open and rotated toward her.

  She jumped in her seat and stifled a scream.

  He faced her with a grin. “I think I’m supposed to say, ‘Like what you see? Take a picture. It lasts longer.’ If I was fifteen, that is.”

  And you’re definitely not fifteen.

  But I would love a picture of you. I’d set it on my dresser and look at you every morning and...no. Won’t work. She pushed a curl behind her ear, wrapped her arms around her stomach. Stop the runaway thoughts about this pilot. Penn shook her head. “I don’t think you’d say that when you were fifteen.”

  “Then you’d be surprised. I grew up with two other rough and tumble boys. We could be pretty sassy when we wanted to, and, believe me, we wanted to most of the time.” Stretching his right leg into the aisle, he grinned at her like the rogue she’d imagined him to be the first time she met him. “So. You were staring at me?”

  The rapid change in conversation caught the breath in her throat. Penn scrambled for words. “Um. I noticed your scar.” Way to point out his flaws, Penn. She frowned. “Sorry. I...”

  “No worries.” He skimmed the scar with the tip of his middle finger. “My brothers and I were horsing around in our family room. I was about six or seven. Mom had just yelled that somebody was gonna get hurt when Jake dive bombed me. My head crashed into a glass-topped table. Shattered like snow all over the carpet.” He tapped the scar.

  “A shard cut me right here. While we waited in the ER, my mom confessed she hated that table—a leftover from my dad’s bachelor pad. I think she appreciated my sacrifice for her sense of decor so much that she never said, ‘I told you so.’ She’s good like that.” John rolled his shoulders. “I think it gives me character—kinda like my limp.” He tilted his head. “What do you think?”

  Her heart clenched at the way his dark brown eyes crinkled at the corners. “I think you like making lemonade out of lemons.”

  “Absolutely.” He flattened his hands in front of him like a scale holding imaginary weights. “Lemons or lemonade. Which would you choose?”

  You. Heat flooded her cheeks. Did she say that out loud?

  John slumped in his seat and closed his eyes. No teasing.

  She hadn’t spoken aloud. Tension evaporated leaving a pleasant exhaustion in her muscles. She glanced out the window at the fading light.

  I’d choose you, John Townsend.

  10

  Penn clomped down the stairs for an overdue study break. She needed some Peri time. As her foot touched the parquet floor at the bottom of the stairs, a red canvas shoe burst open the front door. A brown bag of groceries hid the identity of which aunt wore red today. Jancie called to her from the front door. “Penny. Penn. Yoo-hoo? Are you busy on Saturday?”

  “I’m right here.” Penn met Jancie at the door and freed the bag from her. “This Saturday? I’m studying.”

  “Good. We just saw John at the grocery store.
He mentioned he’d refinished his kitchen cabinets and repainted the appliances, so of course he’s ready for a new kitchen floor. A paper bag floor. I told him we could put one in for him this Saturday. I knew you were free.”

  “I’m studying. The exam’s in fourteen weeks.” Her heartbeat accelerated at the reminder of the CPA exam, not the idea of being with John again. Or so she told herself. For the umpteenth time this week.

  Winnie entered the foyer with another bag and the car keys dangling from her thumb. Purple adorned her body as well as her feet. “Two more sacks are out in the car.”

  “Set that down and come help me with the other two, please.” Jancie glided out the door with Penn behind her. “Hon, you’ve been studying so much your head’s gonna fall right off your neck. You can take a morning break on Saturday, surely. The floor won’t take long.”

  Penn lifted the smaller bag out of the back seat. Handing it to her aunt, she grabbed the larger one for herself. “It won’t take long?” She bumped the door closed with her hip. “When have you ever made a paper bag floor? What about your back? A few weeks ago it wouldn’t let you ride over to Hartwood. And now you’re going to crawl on a floor all day?”

  Jancie frowned and skipped up the stone steps to prove a point. “I’m not decrepit.”

  “And I guess Winnie’s swollen ankles have magically deflated?” Penn followed her aunt to the kitchen where Winnie filled the refrigerator drawers with produce.

  “Oh, I feel fine now. Didn’t I tell you?” Winnie wiggled her left foot to prove her dexterity.

  “Great.” She set the bag onto the counter and slapped her hands on her hips. “But don’t you think crawling on the floor might start swelling your ankles again?”

  “Absolutely not. Besides, you’ll be the crawler, dear. You and John, that is. Jancie and I are the brains behind the job. You two will be the hands and feet.” She opened a new bag of pretzel rods, crunched off the end of one, and offered the snack to Penn.