Chapter 27
Penelope
Iblink my eyes open, disoriented by the rays of morning sunlight falling over me. The scent of hot pans and roasted coffee beans flit through my nose, making my stomach growl loudly.
“Mornin’, sunshine.” My cousin’s wife, Heather, sets a steaming mug on the table before plopping down on the couch opposite from the one I slept on.
That nickname… I groan as I recall the fight Logan had with his dad, and my fear for the future of the group home.
In the kitchen across from the living room, Carrie dumps a pile of eggs onto a plate, followed by two pieces of toast.
“How you feelin’?” my sister asks before setting the plate beside the mug and taking a seat next to Heather.
“All right, I guess.” I sit up, stretching my cramped muscles and mourning the residual throb left by Logan at my core. “Thanks for picking me up so late last night, Heather. I… I needed some space to think.”
After I left the event, she was the first person I called, and she and Carrie came as quickly as they could.
It riddled me with guilt that they had to drive all that way, but I couldn’t bring myself to stay another night in that apartment.
Heather takes my hand, and I smile despite the ache in my chest. A year ago, she wouldn’t dream of openly touching another person like that.
“Anything for you, Pen.” Releasing me, she forces a piece of toast in my palm, and says, “And don’t worry, I told Marcus not to say a word to Patrick. That way, you can get settled and get your wits about you before you talk to him.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate that.”
“Are you okay?” Carrie asks, casting me a concerned glance. “Don’t just shrug and say yes. I really want to know if I need to go kick Logan’s ass.”
“Yeah, we’ll teach him a thing or two.” Heather curls her fists, lightly swinging them in front of me.
I snort before taking a few bites of food. If Logan only knew how much trouble he’d be in if Heather and Carrie cornered him. “I’m not okay, but I know I will be.”
Carrie narrows her eyes. “Vague, but I accept.”
Like a couple of mother hens, they watch me eat until every bite is gone.
Only once they’re satisfied that I’m taken care of does Heather turn to me thoughtfully. “We’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you guys, too.” I glance out the window at that old red barn perched on the hill beside Mom and Dad’s elaborate home.
Last year, when I brought Marcus to the ranch to lie low from the rest of the world, I had the same feeling that I have now. “Every time I come back, I’m reminded of how much I miss this place, too.”
“Maybe you should visit more often,” she says with a smirk.
“It’s hard when this whole damn ranch reminds me of him.” Being vulnerable makes my palms sweaty, but I look at my sister and force the words, anyway. “But it’s not just that. I’ve been doing a lot of avoiding over the years, causing a rift between all of us, and that’s not on anyone but me.”
Carrie’s face pinches as she reaches over to squeeze my knee. “It’s okay, sis.”
Our heads swivel toward the front door the moment it swings open.
“Hey, Pen.” Marcus swaggers inside, smiling broadly. He crosses the living area to wrap me in a big hug. “It’s been too long.”
Air whooshes from my lungs when his long arms squeeze a laugh out of me, but my smile quickly fades when my parents step inside the house behind him.
“M-mom, Dad… Hey,” I stammer awkwardly as my cousin lowers me to my feet.
Heather’s eyes go wide. “Marcus.”
“What? I did exactly as you asked and got Patrick,” he whispers defensively.
She smacks his arm. “No, you idiot. I said don’t get him!”
“Ow.” He rubs the spot with a frown. “I’m sorry, okay? I thought I was helping.”
“Penelope, what are you doing here?” Mom asks, her face drawn with worry. “Are you all right?”
The breakfast in my stomach pitches and rolls with a fresh wave of anxiety, but this is what I came here for, isn’t it? To tell them the truth, hopefully earn their acceptance, and show Dad that I’ve found something worth living and fighting for.
I gesture toward the couch. “Maybe you guys should have a seat.”
Heather pats my shoulder before grabbing Marcus and yanking him toward the back door. “We’re going to, uh, give you guys some space.”
Dad skeptically raises a brow as he sits beside Mom. “What’s going, Pen?”
The house goes quiet and I bounce on my heels, gathering my thoughts. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you…”
My hands shake as I wring them, standing at the front of the room, afraid to tell them the truth—afraid they’re going to reject me—but I told Logan he was worth the risk, and I meant it.
Just spit it out. Rip it off like a band-aid.
“Do you remember Logan Anderson?”
Carrie offers me two thumbs up while Dad frowns and Mom’s head tilts. “Silas’s son?”
“Yes. Okay, so we were sort of dating, I guess? Until last night, when things got a little complicated. Because, you know, his father is a controlling asshole who’s trying to buy the properties where the group home I’ve been volunteering at for the last few years is foreclosing.”
I inhale a rush of air at the end of my ramble, positive the smile I give them is confident. If only it wasn’t trembling on my lips.
“Wait, wait, wait.” Dad waves a hand in the air. “Back up and start from the beginning.”
“The beginning. Okay…” How does one ease into telling their parents they’ve been lying to them for years?
“So, I’ve been lying to you guys for years.”
Welp. That’ll do it.
Dad sits up straighter, scooting to the edge of his seat. “Lying how, exactly?”
I fidget with the shredded edge of my nail. I’ve spent so long refusing to rely on my father, monetarily or otherwise. Yet, here I am, asking him to oppose a ruthless businessman for me—his ever-disappointing daughter.
He listens, unmoving, as the truths of what I’ve been doing since I moved to Keerah—from quitting the job he got for me, to working with Ricardo and Dorthea, then working with Logan. I tell them where I was living, and how I used Koa as a cover to get them off my back, and then I tell them about Silas’s plans, too.
With each truth, the disappointment I’d feared rises, drooping their shoulders and deepening their frowns.
“I don’t understand,” Dad says. “All these years, you could have asked me for help, and I would’ve been there, no questions asked. Why didn’t you say something before now?”
“Because I wanted to prove that I could make it on my own, and because I didn’t know how to tell you that big business isn’t my dream. Or how badly I craved the support you guys openly give Carrie.” I point at my aching chest. “I hate fancy gowns and lavish parties, and acting ladylike makes me itchy. I love a good cuss word here and there, and if I could go barefoot the rest of my life, I would. And I refuse to be sorry for who I am just because I can’t meet your expectations.”
Exasperated, he shakes his head. “We don’t love either of you more than the other. In fact, I’ve exhausted every resource imaginable to set the two of you up for success, and you repay me by working for a man like Silas.”
“I’m not working for him. And I know I’m loved–that’s never been a question,” I counter. “The point I’m trying to make is that I’m grateful for what you’ve done for us, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’ve set certain standards for me my entire life. As if my worth is based on mimicking your successes.”
Placing his elbows on his knees, he steeples his fingers in front of his mouth. Those aging eyes meet mine fiercely, as if he needs me to know the importance of what he’s about to say. “I can’t apologize for wanting what’s best for you, Penelope.”
Frustration sharpens my tone. “You don’t need to apologize. You need to accept me as I am.”
Mom and Carrie remain silent, letting us fight this out with angry stares and lashing words.
“As a woman who doesn’t take life seriously, has no regard for her future, or any desire to fulfill a purpose?”
I square my shoulders, and with every ounce of courage and confidence I possess, I say, “I’ve found my purpose. And it’s too bad that it’s not what you expected it to be, but your opinion isn’t going to change it.”
We glare at each other, but every second that ticks by is one less that I have to find a solution.
“I know what I’m asking of you is monumental, but if I don’t find a way to outbid Silas by Monday, the group home will be demolished.” At a loss, I tip my head up at the ceiling and draw a deep breath. It hits the bottom of my lungs before I release it in a rush. “These kids need more than a place to live, Dad. They need a support system that keeps them safe and secure, and if they end up on the streets because I didn’t do my damndest to help them, it’ll break me.”
He’s quiet for several anxiety-inducing seconds before slowly rising to stand. “Well, then, I suppose I have no other option than to agree.”
Utterly defeated, my confidence deflates in an instant.
I turn to Carrie, then to Mom, who appears equally confused when he shoulders past me, muttering, “I need some air.”
The door slams shut behind him, the bang rattling in my heated ears long after he’s gone.
Guess I know who I get my avoidance issues from…
Mom rises from her seat, shaking her head. “You and your father are more alike than you realize.”
“Stubborn to a fault?” Carrie snorts, earning a pointed glare from us both.
“Strong-willed. Passionate. Easily wounded,” she clarifies.
Standing in front of me, Mom squeezes my shoulders. “We have standards and expectations for you because we’re your parents, and unfortunately, wanting more for our children is part of the gig. But I’m sorry if those wants have made you feel alienated.” I fight back tears, struggling to hold her gaze. “You belong in this family just as much as the rest of us. Never doubt that again.”
When she pulls me in for a hug, I wrap my arms around her and tuck my face in the side of her neck. She smells like cherry blossoms and vanilla, but mostly, she smells like home.
A sense of resolve settles over me. “I’m gonna go talk to Dad.”
She pats my back before I leave, offering a simple comfort that I hold on to as I step out onto the porch.
The grass in the surrounding pasture sways and flutters in the wind while I search the front and back of the house. When I finally spot my father, he’s standing in the yard with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, gazing at our property thoughtfully.
Tiny flowers in the grass tickle my ankles, crunching lightly as I step up beside him. I mimic his stance, slipping my hands inside the pockets of my pajama shorts, and together, we stand in silence as the world keeps spinning.
“Pen—”
“Dad—” I start at the same time.
We laugh softly, awkwardly.
“You first,” I say, tucking my hair behind my ear.
He exhales, as if to gather his thoughts, then looks down at our feet. “Do you remember when your mom put you and Carrie in that beauty pageant when you were little?”
I snort. “The Los Angeles Little Princess competition.”
“That’s the one.” He smiles fondly, taking ten years off his age instantly. “We’d gotten you both matching dresses. Yours was purple, and Carrie’s bright pink.”
I’m moved that he remembers. “Yeah, and I cut the sleeves off because the sequins were rubbing my arms raw.”
“You damn sure did.” He chuckles. “I left you alone for ten minutes, and you shredded it.”
“Mom was so pissed about that.”
And rightfully so. Pageant dresses aren’t cheap.
He looks up at the ocean-blue sky, lost in a memory only he can see. “I didn’t make a great pageant dad, but I was damn proud of you out there, dancing your little heart out in a tattered dress and bare feet with not a care in the world.”
When he eventually turns to me, I reach for his rough, calloused hand, feeling every bit like that little girl again.
“I’ve always known you’d be different. I watched you march to the beat of your own drum and paint the world with whatever color fit your mood for the day, but I wasn’t prepared for watching you girls grow up, and I damn sure wasn’t prepared for how I’d feel when I failed.”
I squeeze his hand tightly, even though his words gut me. “Dad. I’m going to make my own decisions because I’m my own person. That doesn’t mean you failed.”
“No, no. That’s not what I meant.” He shakes his head. “I failed because I pushed my vision for your life onto you, just like you said, and in turn, pushed you away from me.”
I’ve rarely seen him this emotional, and tears prick the corners of my eyes as I feel the weight and vulnerability behind his words.
“I’m sorry, Penelope.”
“And I’m sorry for pushing you away when I should have said something sooner. I just didn’t want to be a disappointment.”
“You’re not letting me down by living the life you want for yourself.” He brings me in for a warm, secure hug that damn near makes me cry before releasing me. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper. What you’re trying to do for your friends is admirable, and I’m glad you came to me.”
I offer a small smile. “Guess you’ll have to find someone to go to that convention with, huh?”
“Nah. I’ll just cancel. It would have been boring, anyway.”
I gawk at him. “You don’t really mean that.”
“Yeah… You’re right, I don’t.” He smiles to himself. “I’m such a nerd.”
“Not at all. I love that about you. That you’re so smart and driven. You actually inspired me to do something huge last night,” I say before telling him about my conversation with Ellen.
He nods. “That’s my girl.”
We take a lap around the property, and my heart aches at distant memories of Logan being forced to run for hours.
Dad must be thinking about him, too, because he says, “Can’t say I’m surprised you and Logan found your way back to each other. You were damn near inseparable that summer.”
My pulse leaps to hear him speak so candidly about us. “Guess we weren’t as sneaky as we thought.”
His chuckle is warm and rumbly. “Hardly.”
“I was afraid to tell you about him. I know things ended badly between you and Silas, but Logan’s different—” I pause. “At least, I thought he was.”
“What happened?”
Talking with him like an old friend instead of a father, I give him the details of the last few weeks and what happened at the charity event.
“I love him, but last night, he chose Silas over me, and I don’t know what else I can do to make him see that he’s being used.”
My father’s expression softens. “It sounds to me like he’s afraid, so he defaulted to placating Silas to keep the peace because that’s what he knows is safe.” He kicks clumps of dirt out of our path, contemplating what to say next in that way of his. “All Silas ever cared about was money. It ruled every thought, reaction, and decision he ever made.”
“Shocker, nothing’s changed.”
Dad stops before turning to face me. “You don’t have to convince me that Logan isn’t like Silas because I already know. Just as I know that once the dust settles, and he sees how serious you are about standing your ground, he’s going to realize you’re the only option.”
I feel empty and spent from the rollercoaster of emotions I can’t seem to get off of, but a tiny flame of hope perks up in my heart.
“Give him some time to reconcile his feelings for you and Silas. He’ll come around.”
I certainly hope so. Because whether he’s with me or against me, I’m standing by Dorthea and Ricardo, no matter the cost.