25. MISSIN YOU LIKE THIS
25
MISSIN' YOU LIKE THIS
PENNY
T he first few weeks in Owenville were a slice of heaven with a side of hell.
Heaven was being wrapped in her old quilt in bed when the weather suddenly grew fierce and wintry again. Snow piled up so thick and high it covered half her second-story window. Those were the best days. Penny loved true winter, especially when she could snuggle indoors by the fireplace in the formal living room and lose herself in a book for a few hours. Heaven was also Erica’s homemade spiced apple pie made just for her from preserved apples picked at the nearby orchard.
She loved the familiarity of walking down Main and seeing all the old faces who were happy to see her in return. Loved having lunch at Chick’s Diner and stopping to admire how pretty the shops were with fairy lights strung up under the eaves sheltering the boardwalk. The little library, the two-theater cinema, Miss Loretta’s house where she first sawed at the strings of a violin. All of it was like a precious snow globe, containing a microcosm of all the things she’d missed about home.
Hell was waking up in her old bed with just her own body heat to warm up her quilt — no heat-giving giant to cuddle into. No being kissed awake gently by that mouth. No mornings being woken up by something else, her leg hooked by his arm and his cock already gliding in as she moaned. Going back to rubbing on herself wasn’t ever going to be nearly as satisfying again compared to that.
That was just the physical longing. She envisioned him in all these places, imagined this town embracing him and holding space for him. Jack would fit in here. She imagined him looking comfortable and particularly hot, wearing a plaid shirt and driving a pickup with big tires and a cord of wood in the back that he’d cut himself. He’d come home after a day outdoors, smelling even stronger of evergreen, and they’d cook and read and hang out with their baby, chase after their toddler, and teach their teenager to be a decent human being. To be a good person, like Jack.
But it wasn’t to be. A future with him was lost and he was the one who’d shut the door on it.
She didn’t want to tell her parents what had caused her to show up here out of the blue without him. Steeling herself, she knew she had to tell them the news about the baby, at least. Relief flooded her at their joy when she told them over dinner at the close of her third week back. It was genuine, and for the first time in a while, she felt good again, at least about that.
“You should move back in with us,” Erica said at breakfast one morning. By then, Penny had been there nearly a month and still had no idea what she was doing next. “We can update your room and make that guest room a nursery. Nobody comes here to spend the night anyway.”
“I’ll have to think about it,” Penny answered hesitantly.
“You’re going to need help when that baby arrives. Might as well make it easier on all of us,” Erica said, palms raised.
“Maybe for the first few months, okay.” But even that was dubious. “Thank you for the offer. I, um, want some time to really think about what I’m doing.”
“You can’t be thinking of leaving again to go off on your own,” Russell said, coming into the sunshine-yellow kitchen. He poured himself some coffee and spooned in sugar from the bowl, bearing a picture of a blue pickup truck.
Penny tried hard not to roll her eyes at his remark. Even at her big age, being disrespectful didn’t fly in this house.
“I’ve done okay out there,” she said, smiling at him instead while he took his seat in his favorite chair. He had a long day of work ahead of him and eased into his chair with a small sigh.
Penny’s eyes ran over him, noting the minor changes in her father since the last time she’d seen him. He was thicker in the belly and that much grayer. He’d always been her rock. She remembered being a little girl and looking up to him. He was so tall and vital. It was easy for him to pick her up and prop her on his strong shoulders. Being with her dad had always felt like she was in the presence of a Black superhero. A champion for justice in the courtroom and out. A man of honor.
It struck her how much Jack truly was like him, not physically, of course, and not in his mannerisms. But that code of honor, that sense of right and wrong…yes, in that way, they were very much alike.
“Kids need stability. From now on, it’s got to be what’s best for my grandbaby. It’s not about you anymore. Mm-hm.”
He saluted her with his coffee and then took a swallow. He wiped the drop that had spilled in his gray beard with a napkin and neatened his mustache in an unconscious gesture. After a bite of his waffle, he glanced at Penny.
“You know Ma Mabel’s house hasn’t been sold yet. If you want, I can get everybody together and ask them if you could have it. Or if they’d sell their share of it, at least. I’d help with the lump sum if you needed me to.”
Ma Mabel was her late great-grandmother, who’d passed at a fabulously healthy and lucid one hundred years old two summers ago. She’d been a Gentry, who’d inherited the huge old Victorian in the District from that line before she married into the Mayfield family. Ma had willed the house to her sons equally. None of the Mayfields wanted to occupy it but they were loathe to sell it to one of the wealthy newcomers rolling into town from New York City who were slowly but surely taking over the best properties.
“Ma Mabel’s house? But that place is falling to pieces,” Penny answered slowly.
“That’s what renovations are for, Penelope,” Erica chimed in with an upraised palm. “It’s got beautiful bones. You know Sierra, who owns that design shop on Main. She’s renovating the Hart House on Wisteria right now. The exterior already looks gorgeous.”
Pushing out her bottom lip in thought, Penny considered it. “I always did love going to Ma Mabel’s house. Us cousins had the best time tearing in and out of there. Can we go over sometime this weekend and have a look around?”
“Of course,” Russell said with a wink at Erica.
After her father left for the courthouse and her mother left for her church volunteer meeting, Penny was alone with her thoughts and the downstairs TV. The latter was appealing since there was no television in her childhood bedroom, thanks to Erica’s fears she’d be somehow accessing “inappropriate shows” even without movie channels. Just for that, she decided to watch a super sexy movie right there on the couch, but when it came to the first love scene, it made her uncomfortably horny and restless, and suddenly thinking about Jack’s mouth, his hands, and how he tasted when he —
Okay, enough of that. Back to the other uncomfortable topic. Was she really considering moving back to Owenville? After years of vowing she’d never live here again?
Everywhere she looked in this town, a shadow of Brendan stood waiting for her. All this time, she’d believed it was her very enmeshed family and their strict, proper ways that had stifled her, but now she saw it wasn’t about them at all. It was Brendan in every corner and every crevice. Restless. Plaintive. Asking her to give and give and keep giving to their memory. His legacy. Demanding that she pay for the life that had been taken from him with her own.
Could she do it? Stay here? Forget about Brendan and Jack and focus on building a brand new life for her and her baby? Maybe she could. They’d be welcomed, absorbed into the rhythm and lifeblood of this town, into the family and community already built for them.
If only there wasn’t another place calling out to her that already felt like home.
Saturday was overcast. Penny’s back twinged when she crawled out of bed after the knock on her bedroom door. Back twinged, knees creaked a bit, and the baby was pressing on her bladder. Geriatric moms for the win.
“Let’s go, Penny,” her father called cheerfully from the other side. “Got the keys, let’s go, let’s go.”
After getting showered and dressed with the speed of a turtle, Penny went downstairs to have breakfast while her father was watching TV in the living room. The sounds of grunts and thumps and screaming drifted into the kitchen. Penny finished her oatmeal with its healthy sprinkling of almonds and dried fruit, then her decaf coffee. Blearily she contemplated the coffee, longing for the day when she could go back to her daily caffeine benders. She’d read that wouldn’t happen till after she was done breastfeeding.
Fucking great. Another year and a half without her full powers.
She didn’t even have Toto to grumble to. He’d gone missing somewhere. Penny was reluctant to make another to replace him. And she missed that little Trixie even more. It was her fault she was totally dogless now. If she’d stayed in Dublin….
Never mind Dublin or dogs. Penny wiped her face of the swift tears that had sprung out of nowhere and went to wash her dishes.
When she entered the living room finally, she said, “I’m ready, Dad. What are you…?” Voice trailing off, she saw what he was looking at.
It was Jack fighting in the cage.
Her heart got lodged somewhere at the base of her throat.
At first, she thought this was it, Jack’s match-up, the one where he might possibly get his head knocked in permanently. The one that might destroy her whole world. Panic gripped her until she saw it wasn’t La Roque he was fighting but someone else, a thick-set Black man she recognized now as Atlas Walters. Sure enough, his name was at the bottom of the screen, along with his stats. It was Jack’s first title fight and Atlas’s last stand. This was the fight that had cemented Jack’s status as Heavyweight Champion of the world.
With a sigh of frustration, she turned to Russell, who was in his lounger with the remote.
“Why are you watching this?” Penny asked, itching to go switch off the flat screen but knowing she couldn’t unless she somehow wrestled the remote from his hand.
On the screen, Jack took a kick to the side and another to the stomach. That eight-pack must have absorbed the blow because he came back immediately with a straight punch. Sweating, his body gleaming and primed, he really was magnificent. Flooded with longing, Penny turned away from the screen.
“Lucky Jack Valentine. I still can’t believe I’d watched this man’s fights for years, and now he’s going to be the father of my grandchild. You sure you didn’t know who he was when you met him?” Russell asked with a squint.
“Apparently, I’m the only person on the planet who didn’t know. Watching people get their heads bashed in was never my thing, for reasons you should understand. And it still isn’t,” she said pointedly. “I’m putting my coat on. You were the one who was in a rush, remember?”
“Alright, alright, Miss Sassy. I’m coming.” Russell got out of the chair and went to get his gear on.
“Wait…one more bathroom run. I’ll be right back,” she said suddenly.
Outside, the skies were still overcast. Rain threatened; she could smell it in the air, along with the scent of the cold waters of Seneca Lake not too far off. Winters here were beautiful, but summer was the absolute best. This baby would be born at the tail end of July or so. Too small to go splashing at the state park’s lakeside beach this year but next year…
Were they going to be here next year? Splashing and having sandwiches packed at home, buying ice cream at the concession stand…all without Jack?
His choice. If none of that happened, it would be because he’d made it impossible by choosing revenge over her.
They reached Ma Mabel’s house in less than ten minutes. The three-story Victorian was as big and pretty as she remembered, although much more weathered on the outside. Its mint-green paint was dirt-flecked and peeling, the front yard was overgrown with snow-dusted weeds, and the cobblestone path from the sidewalk was broken.
“Careful, now,” Russell cautioned her as they began to walk the slippery, uneven path to the porch. She held onto his arm to steady herself.
The interior wasn’t completely in dire straits. Most of the family had taken turns coming around every week to help out as much as they could when Ma Mabel was still alive, but it had been tough to keep up to her standards. Now the floors and furniture were covered in white sheets thick with dust. Every doorframe was a cobwebbed minefield. Still, it had solid wood doors, and its original hardwood flooring, gorgeous intact stained-glass transom windows, and the banisters on the stairwells were sturdy.
“I loved coming here with Gramma to sit with Ma Mabel after school when you and Mom were working,” Penny said, looking around with eyes that saw how the house had been when she was younger. “She used to give us kids hell when we slid down the rails.”
Russell chuckled. “Just like she gave me hell when I was little and did the same thing. Me, your aunties and uncles and our cousins had a great time here. Never needed to go to some amusement park to pay for fun.”
They toured the kitchen, the formal dining room, several small parlors, the sunroom, and the downstairs half-bath. The backyard was a sight that would make eyes sore, but that could be fixed. Upstairs, there were several bedrooms and a few bathrooms. And finally, the attic which ran the length of the house in one open space.
“This could be the angry teenager bedroom once we clear out the junk,” Russell commented.
Penny laughed. “Please, let me get through the terrible twos first before I contemplate the terrible teens.”
“It all happens faster than you think,” he said with a sigh. “You look back, and you wonder, ‘Where’d my baby go?’ You were a good kid, but you were a lot to handle. Always had your own mind made up and couldn’t tell you a thing to change it.”
She made a face but didn’t respond. They strolled in silence as Penny examined the cracks in the walls up there. Heading back downstairs, she wiped her hands of dust and looked around with her hands on her hips.
“I still love this house. I’d hate to see it go to somebody who isn’t family. But it’s so big. It would be a lot for me and my little soccer star,” she mused, rubbing her belly when the baby kicked. “Or footballer, as I was corrected many, many times in Ireland.”
Russell was gazing at her steadily. “Penny, you know your mother and I would be happy if you decided to come back and settle down here at home. I always knew you’d leave. Knew you had to get away.”
“Dad…” she began softly.
“We were strict. I know that. But that’s how we were raised, and looking back, I know I wouldn’t be where I am today if my parents hadn’t given me any boundaries or standards. We passed those on to you the best way we knew how. Now you’re a grown woman with a good head on your shoulders. I can’t tell you what to do. But I also can’t help but wonder…”
“Wonder what?” she asked, licking her lips that had suddenly gone dry.
“Penny, I will pay you not to tell your mother what I’m about to ask, but…is this town really where you want to be?”
Shocked and confused, Penny stared at him as dust motes danced between them in the cold room. “I don’t understand what you’re asking me. You don’t want me to come back? Because that’s what it sounds like you’re saying.”
“I’m asking if you’re really ready to leave Jack behind.”
Penny’s tummy wobbled, and this time it wasn’t because of the baby. She turned to head for the front door.
“It’s rude to walk out of a room when someone’s talking to you,” Russell said calmly. Immediately, she stopped at his firm tone like she was still a little girl. Sighing, she turned to hear him out. “When we talked on the phone, Jack made his intentions toward you very clear to me. He said he wanted to get married. Things sounded like they were going well, but suddenly you’re here, expecting a child, and acting as if the man no longer exists. We haven’t wanted to press, so Jade had to tell us —”
“Jade? Jade shouldn’t be telling anybody anything I say in confidence,” Penny retorted. Before her temper rose along with her voice, she tried calming herself.
“Don’t you think we’ve been concerned? I hear you crying in that room every night. Obviously, something went wrong, or you wouldn’t be here without him this long. But since you hold everything in and you don’t talk, we had to ask your cousin.”
Crossing her arms, Penny shook her head. “If Jade told you the story, then you already know about his head trauma. He’s on a suicide mission, and when he gets hurt or if he dies... I can’t be there when that happens. It was completely unfair of him to even ask.”
“You mean like with Brendan,” Russell said, and she blazed at the mention of it.
“Exactly like Brendan. It’s like the world is playing some kind of cosmic Groundhog’s Day joke on me, except it’s not funny. At least with Brendan, it was just something that happened. Jack is making a choice, Dad. A choice .” There it was, the tremor and the hurt in her voice she couldn’t contain.
Russell’s gaze on her was now softened with sympathy. But there was a stern edge to his tone despite that. “I was proud of Brendan when I heard what he did. Not happy he paid the price with his life but proud of him because you’re my daughter, and a man that won’t step up for you isn’t worthy of you, in my opinion.” He stood taller, straighter. “And in my opinion, if I’m allowed to express it, you’re trying to tell a grown man that he can’t be the man you met. Jack is a fighter. Always has been. You don’t think I wouldn’t do the same if I were in his shoes and someone hurt your mother?”
“You fight with the law, not your fists. That’s what you taught me to do. Use my words,” Penny insisted.
“Babygirl, I watched that La Roque creep insult you on the TV.” Russell’s features were hardened, a look he usually reserved for the tough cases brought before his bench. “I saw that clip of you getting knocked down in a fight that he started. And I saw the look on Jack’s face when you went down. Now that I know you were pregnant at the time and could’ve lost that baby, I want to hurt him too. Badly. Forget about words. I’d find that man and beat the hell out of him myself if I was a young man like Jack.”
“Dad…”
“So yes, I’m giving Jack my blessing on this one. Whether you support him or not, it’s happening. But you’re Penelope Rose Mayfield, and you’ve got your own mind. It’s your decision.”
Penny’s eyes flooded, and she gulped down the well of salt that had overtaken her throat. It was too hard to speak for several minutes until, finally, she swiped her eyes. “There are easier ways to get Jack’s autograph if you want one that badly, Dad.”
Russell chuckled and came over to give her a hug, which she accepted gratefully.
Stepping out of his arms, Penny went to the door, her boots leaving footprints in the dust. She paused to look around the room.
“At this point, I don’t know what Jack wants. And like you said, I’ve got to think about what’s best for this baby right now. Tell the uncles I’m buying this house. I’m going to raise my child here. Alone if I have to. This is what I want for us.”
With a shake of his head, Russell followed her out. He locked the door after them, and they drove home.
Once they arrived and he got settled at the kitchen table with last night’s leftover casserole, he got into his lounger and pulled out his phone. After a flurry of back-and-forth messages in the family group chat over the course of half an hour, Russell set the phone down on the coffee table.
“We have a consensus. The house is yours.”