Chapter 18 Miller - Family Pizza Night
Islam my fist into the door repeatedly, picturing doing the very same to Dean’s piece of shit face. Didn’t check to see if anyone was home, don’t give a fuck. I’ll find him if he’s not here.
I hear movement behind me and whip around to defend myself, fist still raised, and immediately drop it when I see it’s Sawyer.
“Sawyer, hey.” I catch my breath. “I’m good here.”
“You’re about to land yourself a night in county jail if you don’t fucking cool it. Come on, let’s go back to Red’s.”
I don’t move from my spot on the top step. “He’s harassing her. I’m done sitting back and letting it happen.”
“He’s been harassing her and everyone else around here for years, Miller. Believe me, you’re not the first person to want to knock him out. But this isn’t going to fix it. It’ll make things a hell of a lot worse. For you and her.”
I hear what he’s saying, I really do. But I’ve seen first hand what a man like that can do to a woman. I lost my mom because of it. I barely had a mom to begin with because of it. I care too much about Gwen to let her get caught up in all of that, no matter how she feels about me.
“Yeah, well, something has to change.”
“Let’s figure it out then. Come on. Come back and have some pizza.” Sawyer steps up and throws an arm around my shoulders, trying to guide me away from Dean’s house. I don’t fight him on it. The fog of blinding anger is starting to clear, and I realize he might have a point.
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Sawyer’s only a handful of years older and a couple inches taller than me, but I feel like a little kid around him.
“Don’t be. You’re not thinking anything I haven't, although I’m guessing from what Margot has told me, your reasoning might be a little different than mine. Which leads me to ask, how are things going with Red? It seemed like something maybe shifted the other night with you two.”
“And then they shifted right back. Nothing’s going on. We’re friends.”
“But you want more?” Instead of reentering Gwen’s front door, Sawyer pivots, and I follow him along the side of the house towards the backyard.
I’ve never had anyone to talk shit out with like this. I don’t know how much I’m supposed to say or what I’m even asking for. I don’t do relationships. I stuff my hands in my front pockets and watch the leaves crunch underneath my boots.
“I’ll take that as a yes…” Sawyer answers himself.
We stop at the firepit Gwen has built into her back patio.
It’s cute as hell out here. There are wooden chairs that lean back circled around the stone pit.
String lights criss-cross over the top of the area, and tiki torches line the perimeter.
A grill that looks like it’s never been used a day in its life has its own little spot a safe enough distance away from the house.
There are covers over a row of four bushes against the back siding, already winterized for the first frost.
I look around, taking everything in. This is a backyard you live in.
It’s so easy to picture barbecues and roasting marshmallows by the fire.
There’s a place to pitch a tent in this backyard and make those core memories you see families making in all of those movies.
It’s the white picket fence dream back here.
Gwen puts so much thought into every aspect of life and never comes up short. It fucking blows me away. Who wouldn’t want more with a woman like this?
“I’d take anything she’s willing to give me,” I blurt out.
“Have you told her that?” Sawyer asks.
“You’re asking if I told Gwen that I’m basically following her around like a pathetic dog?”
“I wouldn’t say it like that…But, yeah. I guess, sort of? Look, Gus set me straight when I was lost on how to handle things with Margot. Let me try to pass along some help to you.”
I shrug noncommittally when internally, I’m so Goddamn grateful someone might actually have some solid advice on what I should be doing here because I’m in way over my head.
“Red’s never going to assume she’s anyone’s first choice.
Especially you, given the fact that you have Penelope and all.
She always wants to do the right thing, the safe thing, to make everyone around her happy.
Dean did a fucking number on her, man. And—” Sawyer looks to the house, confirming the girls aren’t watching or listening from the window before continuing.
“She’ll never admit how much her parents' leaving affected her, but it did. She goes through the worst divorce this town has seen in I don’t even know how long, and they take off to sail around a loop in the Bahamas not even six months later. It was kind of fucked up.”
“She never really mentions them,” I say, shocked.
“I’m guessing it still hurts. Jean and Larry love Red, and they’re decent people. They’ve done a lot for Merrymount. But in my opinion, they’re not the best parents.”
“I can’t imagine abandoning P like that, even when she’s an adult.”
“I get it. I feel the same way, but it’s a part of the reason why Red’s pretty closed off when it comes to new relationships. You and Margot and Penelope really shook things up for a lot of us.”
“So, what do I do?” I feel like an idiot.
“You keep showing up. You tell her this is more than some friendship of convenience. Nothing has to be rushed. You can still take things slow for Penelope’s sake.”
“I can do that.”
“I know you can. It’s why we’re all here tonight.
Things are going to be okay, Miller. We’ll figure out what to do about Dean if it gets worse.
Come on, let’s head back inside before Margot houses all of the pizza, and we’re left with the crust she refuses to eat.
” Sawyer walks up to the French doors at the back of the house, and I follow.
Before Sawyer opens the door, he turns to me again. “This stays between us, yeah?”
“Yeah, of course,” I assure him. I have no desire to break Sawyer’s trust. I’m beyond thankful for the insight and appreciate the fact that he was the one to talk me off the ledge before I did something really stupid.
Sawyer wasn’t kidding about Margot’s ability to throw back pizza.
When we enter the kitchen, her plate already has the remnants of four slices and she’s grabbing a fifth out of the box.
Gwen’s plate doesn’t look much different.
Penelope is still munching on her one piece of cheese pizza.
She’s perpetually the slowest eater on the planet.
No one mentions my disappearing act when Sawyer and I join the table. The only acknowledgement comes from Gwen in the form of her mouthing “you good?” She takes my quick nod as a sufficient answer.
Penelope entertains us by recapping her school day, bringing out belly laughs from the whole table when she tells us a particularly hilarious story from lunch.
Between the five of us, all three boxes of pizza are demolished in no time.
Margot and Sawyer stay a little bit after we clean up from eating, but say their goodbyes before Penelope. ..and I…are ready to leave.
When the last bits of sunlight fade away, I give Penelope the five minute warning that we need to head home because it’s a school night.
I don’t want to leave and neither does she, but responsibilities.
A big part of me wishes Gwen would just come back to the apartment with us.
Selfishly, because I want more time with her, but also because I don’t fucking trust Dean being that close next door to her. I should order her mace or something.
Sawyer said I need to tell her what I want. He also said I could take things slow. Those two things feel like they’re on opposite ends of the world right now. I want to bring her home and have her sleep in my bed. I want to set a good example for Penelope and not jump into things with someone.
This is the whole reason I never touched the idea of dating.
It felt impossible to try to figure out how to balance everything, to be someone a partner would need and still be the best dad.
It was easier to just shut that part of my brain down, putting all of my focus toward Penelope.
I couldn’t imagine someone coming along who would have me wanting to deviate from that life.
Until Gwen.
Now I sit on Gwen’s couch and battle with my brain while watching her and Penelope lay on the floor side by side, drawing mustaches on people’s faces in the magazine Gwen had laying out on her coffee table. Each new one P holds up to show me gets more and more ridiculous.
My focus shifts to the TV. Gwen apparently has every streaming service known to man and threw on the Disney one when we moved from the kitchen to the living room.
She also pulled out a whole bin of toys from the closet she chucked her wedding picture in earlier.
She said she’s kept them around for whenever she babysits kids around town.
Repeating what I already know, this woman thinks of everything.
Small picture frames line the bottom shelf on her TV stand. I lean in a little and squint to see if I can make out the photos with no success. I walk over and squat down to inspect them up close.
They’re vacation pictures—Gwen in every stage of her life—in Walt Disney World.
Now, I’ve never been myself, but I’ve watched enough 90s sitcom specials where the cast went on vacation there, and had Penelope beg me to take her through every commercial we’ve ever seen of the place to recognize it right off the bat.
Gwen posing in front of the castle. Gwen smiling with different characters. Gwen eating one of those pretzels shaped like a mouse the size of her head. Her smile is infectious. It’s obvious in every single picture that this is her happy place.
I wish so badly I could make that happen for Penelope. It makes me want to relook at finances and budget my way into making it happen sooner rather than later.