26. BIRTH, DEATH AND REBIRTH
26
BIRTH, DEATH AND REBIRTH
PENNY
A week after she’d told everyone she wanted to buy Ma Mabel’s house and raise the baby there by herself, she still didn’t really know what she wanted. Her father’s words had been spinning in her head every day since, leaving her tossing and tangled in her lonely sheets.
She was lying to herself. Penny did know what she wanted. She wanted to be with Jack. That’s all. She wanted to play music for him and tease that smile out of him and love on him. Be loved.
Late one night, after her parents had quieted in their room, she was still wide awake. Restless. Missing a certain warm, hard body to curl up against. Tiptoeing past their door like she had when she’d been a teen sneaking out to see Brendan, she went downstairs and got the remote. She felt compelled to bear witness to the moment that had changed things between her and Jack.
She’d avoided looking at the video of La Roque’s fateful visit to the gym, but now she couldn’t help herself. She watched it all with her mouth dry and her chest palpitating. The almost comedic way the fighters had tumbled together, one falling after the other like dominoes until she fell, too. So fucking dumb and embarrassing. She’d laugh if the camera hadn’t zeroed in on Jack’s face.
Before this, the memory of the panic in his eyes had been seared into her brain but she’d thought it was in her memory only. It had been captured and immortalized on digital for the world. The way he picked her up and ran was anything but amusing. It hurt to watch. It was clear his first and only thought had been to take care of her and their baby.
“Goddammit,” she swore softly to herself.
Was she the asshole here for insisting he go on like nothing had happened?
Nope. No, she wasn’t. La Roque was the villain. She stared at his face, musing at how his hatred had made his handsome face ugly in that moment. Even after she fell, he kept swinging only…only now on video did she see he’d stopped when Jack picked her up and ran. He’d stared after them with clear shock on his features, no longer twisted with hate or boastful arrogance but...concern? Could demons show concern for the hurt they’d caused?
No, fuck La Roque.
And Jack should stop fighting like he promised. Get over his past and focus on the future.
But more questions now settled into her head, sticky and uncomfortable. They wouldn’t leave, try as she might to focus instead on the next steps with Ma Mabel’s house.
Maybe Jack had made it hard to stay, but maybe…maybe she’d always had one foot out the door, too. Maybe she had allowed her anguish and shame over Brendan to overtake her life to the point where there really was no room in it for Jack and everything that came with him.
Penny got back in bed, trying to get comfortable and find sleep but it eluded her still. Great. She sat up, looking over at the white desk against the wall. The top shelf was lined with her recital trophies for playing violin. Memories of how proud she’d been to receive them rose up strong. Those hadn’t been “let’s make the kids feel special” handouts. She’d earned them with hard work, bruised fingertips, and love.
Banjo, fiddle, whistle, bodhrán. These belonged to her now, too, not just because of Brendan. Suddenly inspired, Penny tossed the covers aside and went to the desk. She opened the laptop and the file with Brendan’s book…no, her book. And she wrote. Wrote until her wrists creaked, until her forearms felt like the bones were splintering inside, and she could hardly keep her eyes open. But she wrote until her love for the music was on the page.
The first blush of dawn was creeping through the trees when she finally typed the words “The End.” Then she fell onto the bed and into a much-deserved rest with a smile on her lips.
When she woke up a few hours later, it was to yet another dream about Brendan. In it, he’d been talking to her with his mouth moving rapidly but no words coming out. He was agitated, not angry as he’d been since she got pregnant, but upset about something. As she turned over to look sleepily at the clock, she heard her parents fussing fondly at each other as they left for the day.
Come see me, Penny Lane .
Staring up at the ceiling of her bedroom, then at the boy band posters on the walls, she waited to hear that faint voice again. There was nothing but the scrape of an icy branch against the side of the house. But she knew. It was time to visit the one place she’d been avoiding since she’d come back home. A place she hadn’t been in ten years.
It had snowed again the night before, and huge drifts were piled around the house. She dressed warmly in layers and boots and set out on her trip, dreading the destination but steeling herself along the way. Both cars were gone. She didn’t want to trouble her cousin across the road who was “in between jobs” for a ride; this was a journey she needed to take alone.
Taking a shortcut through the woods meant walking in thick snow. It glittered with the brilliance of diamonds. The evergreens and other bare trees towered over her, but the sky above them was the sweetest blue. Sunshine glanced into her eyes, making her squint against the brightness.
At length, she reached the old Catholic church with its dark stone and leaning gate. This was where she and Brendan had gotten married; his mother had insisted. Rather than go inside, Penny went around the church and found the entrance to the yard in back, settled on a piece of flat land. No one else was there. The utter peace was calming despite the steady thrumming of her pulse.
Slowly, she walked through the neat rows of headstones, noting the decrepit, nearly smooth markers from Owenville’s earliest European settlement. There were few Mayfields among them; most of her ancestors and relatives were either buried in the Anglican or Baptist cemeteries.
There were only two Shaughnessy’s here, Brendan Senior and her Brendan. Over the years the Irish population had established itself on this side of town, but the Shaughnessy’s roots in Owenville did not go deep.
She approached Brendan’s marker slowly, noticing the flowers partially buried by the fresh snow. It should have been her who put them there. Good wives, she’d been told, tended to their husband’s graves regularly. A duty she’d run from — another thing to feel guilty about.
Closing her eyes against the wave of regret, she swayed with the sharp wind that sprang up.
“Hi, Brendan. It’s been a while since I’ve been here. People said I should visit you. It only took ten years, but here I am. Ta-da! Procrastination at its finest. I’ve totally mastered it.” Penny grinned. “I always thought of you as being somewhere else anyway. With me, out there. Looking over me wherever I was so I’d never be lonely.”
The stone remained silent, implacable in the face of the wind and her halting words.
“I finished the book. I’ve worked really hard on it, and I think you’d be proud of it. Also, in other sports news, I…um…I’m gonna be a mom. That’s kinda my other big creative project right now. Wish this kid luck. Where am I gonna find an editor for all the mistakes I’m gonna make with that?”
With her mittened hand, she cleared the thin line of snow along the top of the smooth, dark granite. Her smile faded.
“This will probably sound really dumb, and maybe I’m kidding myself, but…even though you’re so different, I think you and Jack would have gotten along. If you haven’t been paying attention, he’s my giant baby daddy. I kind of fell for him, hard. No one was more surprised about that than me. You couldn’t look more different, but you’re actually a lot alike. You’re both sarcastic. You don’t say a whole lot but when you do, it matters. You’ve got that whole chivalry gene in common. Is it an Irish thing? I don’t know.” She bowed her head. “Maybe I didn’t understand either of you. Why you’d risk your life like that, knowing it was a fight you couldn’t win? Why do that for me?”
This next part. These were the words that were struggling to get out of her mouth. “I — I’m not asking for your blessing to marry Jack. Fuck, he probably doesn’t even want that anymore after I ran out on him. I came here to tell you I’m sorry. I should have let you go a long time ago when you had time to find someone to love you the way you deserved. I hope if you can hear me, you’re okay, with all of it. But I have to go. I have to let you go.”
Her eyes shuttered against the wind, against the sun, against the fear and the self-doubt. When she opened them again, they were tear-filled. Penny looked around, expecting to see some sign of him. Some indication that Brendan had heard her and understood. That he forgave her.
But there was no whisper in that familiar voice. There was nothing but the sweep of snow-laden branches low on the ground. That, and the thick crunch of her boots after she said, “Goodbye, Brendan,” and left the yard.
And for the first time in years, Penny finally allowed herself to release all that shame and the unbearable weight of tragedy. But only that. She was going to keep all her best, beautiful memories of Brendan. They were hers to cherish, the milestone markers of the first half of her life. The last bit of sorrow over Brendan and his life and death had poured out of her, leaving her clean inside.
She was at peace but wildly unsure what she was supposed to do now with all this unfamiliar freedom from regret. Then she caught movement in the corner of her eye. It was a doe and her spotted little fawn right outside the gate. The mother was appraising her with big, beautiful eyes while the fawn nibbled at some grass poking through the snow at the base of a tree.
Penny stared back at the pair, enchanted and heart-glad to see them. Honored they would grace her with their delicate beauty. There was a deep, snorting sound to her left, and she whipped her head to look, hoping it wasn’t a bear, which wasn’t uncommon around here.
It was a buck, tall and mighty, with antlers rising from his majestic head. He looked at her as if assessing her threat level to his doe and his fawn. Her stillness must have convinced him she was fine, but he waited, his eyes on her until the doe and the fawn walked away. He turned to look at her once more before his gray-brown hide blended in with the trees, and they were gone from sight.
She smiled, filled with a deep contentment she hadn’t felt in a long time, probably since the incident with La Roque. But the idea of Jack and what she’d left behind in Dublin sobered her, chasing away some of that smile. At some point, if he did survive the fight, they would have to talk, if for no other reason than the child they would share. Cross-Atlantic co-parenting hadn’t been what she’d envisioned when she found out she was pregnant, but plans changed. That was life. No matter how heartbreaking, no matter how disappointing.
Penny knew what she had to do next. Be strong. Be brave. Try to figure out how to keep a creature made of flesh and blood instead of yarn and plastic buttons alive and thriving, here in Owenville, where they would be surrounded by love.
But suddenly, Jack’s face appeared in her mind. As if he was reaching out to her across the dark ocean asking her to stop and reconsider. Asking for one more chance to change her mind. And just as suddenly, she needed to hear his voice.
Not knowing what she would even say, she was compelled to pull out her phone. Trembling, bracing herself for whatever reaction she might get, Penny pressed the call button for Jack’s number. It went straight to voicemail and her shoulders relaxed, feeling slightly relieved that she’d get to leave a message rather than face the conversation they needed to have.
“It’s me,” she said. “Yeah, of course, you’d know that. Caller ID, y’all.” She halted, then said, “When you get this…if you want…call me sometime so we can talk. I —” Her lips moved to tell him she missed him, loved him, needed him. But she stopped herself. That was enough for a first move. “If you…I don’t know when your fight is but good luck. I hope you’re okay and…hope to hear from you soon. Bye.”
Turning back toward her parent’s home, she marched onward to whatever destiny awaited her. Penny felt warm under her Aran Island sweater and puffy jacket. Her cheeks were flushed by the time she hit the first porch step. From behind, she heard a car pull up. At the top of the stairs, she turned, expecting to see her mother.
But it wasn’t Erica’s car. It wasn’t Erica, stepping out of the driver’s side looking tall and achingly handsome and infuriatingly delicious. The sight of anyone else didn’t compel her nerves to sizzle, her tummy to flip, or her fingers to tingle, remembering what it felt like to run across that jaw, which was now covered in that salt and pepper she loved.
But that jaw was so tense a diamond would break against it. She wanted to strike it as much as she wanted to feel it scrape against her skin.
Jack turned his head and zeroed in on her. Their eyes connected. His were deep-set and dark. There was no smile on those lips or in that stare. All she saw on him was seething resentment coupled with a fierce, broken hunger as he approached the bottom step, glaring up at her.
All she wanted was to race down those stairs and jump into his arms. Kiss that look off his face, make him hold her, and tell him to never let her go. But she was stock still, the doe in the face of the Hunter. Held captive by him and her own stupid, helpless desire.
“Hello, Penny.”