Chapter 26 Gwen - Pspspspsps
I really need to laminate this thing for Miller so it doesn’t disintegrate into shreds.
I should have brought a beanie or something because it’s cold as shit.
The way everyone is waving these namecards around feels very reminiscent of those scenes you see of the guys on Wall Street in New York City.
All these thoughts exist to distract me from the fact that I feel like a complete and utter imposter.
But Miller, sweet Miller, who tries so hard every single day to ask nothing of me because he sees how everyone else piles it on without a second thought, got caught up with a big bank-wide outage of some sort and asked me to pick P up from school.
So, here I am. Ready to throw elbows up to get to the front of this crowd to claim Penelope and get us back to the cafe for a girls afternoon. I know as soon as I’m out of this claustrophobic scene, I’ll be able to breathe and see clearly again.
Until then, I’m looking around at all of these parents, some familiar faces, some not.
I wanted to be a part of this chaos so badly.
I dreamed of the moment where I would see my kid’s face light up through the glass door when we made eye contact.
They’d run out in a sprint to jump into my arms, and we would walk hand in hand to the car as they chatted about their day.
I do realize it was a very detailed and specific dream. Don’t judge me, I’ve had a lot of time on my hands to conjure it up.
A voice breaks through my thoughts. “Red Bozelli, is that you, sweetie?”
I turn to my right and see Holly Montag, my co-captain from cheer…and Katie St. James’s very best friend. A decade has gone by, and I still hate her fucking guts.
What can I say? Sometimes I hold a grudge.
She’s holding a pink slip of paper identical to one in my hand. She has a son that, now if I do the math, is probably around the same age as P, maybe a year or two older. She parts her way through the sea of people to stand beside me.
“Oh my God, it is you! Well, what in the heck are you doing down here at Merrymount El? Did you pick up another babysitting gig?” She asks question after question in the most condescending way, and I weigh my options on the most effective way to bash her face in.
I backburner the plan of physical violence and put on my fakest, happiest facade. I’ll do anything to get me out of here faster. “Hey, Holly. Just picking up my…Miller’s daughter.”
My Miller? Seriously, Gwen?
“Well isn’t that just so sweet of you. Gosh, you’re exactly what a parent needs, a good helping hand. You’re the village we all look for!” Holly places her hand on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze that has me flinching to shake her off.
“Sure,” I say with a tight lipped smile. If I stick to one word answers, maybe I’ll survive this. And shit, when are they gonna let these kids out?
Holly continues rattling off information I didn’t ask for.
“I’m waiting for my boy, Brayden. He’s in the fourth grade now.
The best kid. Ugh, I’m so lucky. And I’m sure you’ve heard—” She stops short.
“I mean, of course you’ve heard about Katie’s son.
Now we get to raise our boys together! B and B, isn’t that the cutest? ”
“The. Cutest,” I say through clenched teeth. Is she this dumb, or is she really trying to rile me up in the front of a fucking elementary school? Aren’t we past this level of pettiness? We’re almost thirty for crying out loud.
Thankfully the doors open. A flood of kids barrel out searching for their grown-ups, and our conversation mercifully halts.
I spot Penelope before she sees me, and when I get to witness her face light the hell up when she finds mine, every bit of negativity from two seconds ago disappears as if it never existed.
“Gwen!” The call-out could be heard around town.
My favorite little girl crashes into my waiting arms, and I get smacked in the face by the big white puffball on the top of her hat.
“This is the best surprise ever! Ever, ever!” She’s jumping up and down, and while I could blame the crisp air for the tears prickling my eyes, we all know that’s not why they’re there.
“There’s my favorite tiny human. Jeez, I thought they’d never let you out.
Daddy’s caught up with work so he thought it’d be okay if I scooped you.
What’s up? How was the day?” I pull her backpack off to carry it for her.
The thing is practically bigger than she is.
She grabs my hand without a second thought, and we walk along the sidewalk together to get to my car.
“It was good. We had a spelling test…” Her voice trails off as she looks to the side. Right where bitchass Holly and her twerp son are standing.
“Hey.” I bump Penelope. “Do you know that kid?”
“Uh, sort of.” She’s being quiet. It’s very un-Penelope-like.
I stop us both and squat down to her level. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose are the cutest shade of pink from the cold. “Spill, now.”
She sighs. “Brayden.” The amount of disdain in that one word out of her tiny body holds a lot of weight. Don’t worry, girlie. I feel the same way about his mom.
“And what did Brayden do?” I coax.
“Everything. He sucks.” She tugs at my arm to keep moving. I follow, but I’m not dropping this.
“Did he touch you, Penelope?”
“No. He just…sometimes he says mean stuff. Actually, he always says mean stuff. Daddy doesn’t let me ride the bus anymore because of him.”
Realization dawns on me. Miller told me about this fucking punk. He bullied Penelope. Oh, I am going to have words with Holly—
I try to pivot to circle around back to Holly and her turd-faced kid, but P keeps her feet planted on the ground and her hand locked in mine. “Can we just go?”
“Penelope. I can’t not say something. You’re my girl, you know that, right?”
“Please,” she pleads. I immediately fold. I don’t want to make things harder for her, but shit, I was ready to rip an eight-year-old apart.
I again redirect us, and we continue our short journey to my car. “Fine. The discussion is not over though, got it?”
She nuzzles into my side, and I scoop her up. “You sound like Daddy when you get bossy like that,” P tells me.
“Yeah, well. Sometimes it’s needed.”
“Sometimes it feels like you’re my mom,” she says it offhandedly, like it’s an insignificant statement that didn’t just alter the course of the rest of my life. I must stay quiet for too long because then she adds, “Is that weird?”
“No, P. Not at all. That means a lot to me.”
“Because you want to be a mom, right?”
I nod, not trusting my ability to find the right words without Miller here as backup. “That memory of yours is in tip top shape, girlie. Come on, in you go.” I open the door to the back seat and plop her into her carseat.
“Would you want to be my mom?” Okay, guess this conversation is not one I’m going to breeze over.
“I want…” This feels like something I need to talk to Miller about.
Not because my answer is no. Not because I don’t see her as the daughter I always dreamed of, but because she is.
Nothing would compare to being honored with the title of Penelope’s mom.
But I don’t know my place here. I could just be the village Holly mentioned.
God, I hate her.
Penelope waits eagerly for my response, and I instantly feel guilty for keeping her hanging. “I would want that very much, P. It’s one of those big things we have to talk to Daddy about though, okay?”
“Ugh, complica-cated.”
“You know what’s not complicated though?” I offer.
She eyes me skeptically.
“How much I love you. I mean it. Call me Red, Gwen, Mom. I don’t care. It doesn’t change how I feel about you.” I bop her nose, and she bops mine back with a giggle.
After quadruple checking the straps are secure, I blast the heat and drive us back in the direction of the cafe. We drop the family dynamic and Brayden topics, and I listen to Penelope chat about the ins and outs of first grade.
It was pizza day at lunch (that’s her favorite). She crushed her spelling test (I’m not even a little bit surprised). At recess she played some weird version of tag I’ve never heard of (but Penelope assured me it’s the coolest thing ever).
Everything is a big deal, and I love to hear about every single second of it.
I pull into my usual spot in the back of the cafe and practically smack my head on the roof of the car when Penelope screams.
“What’s wrong?!” I yell, whipping around to do…well, I don’t know what I need to do. But I’ll do it.
“There’s something moving! Right there!” Penelope points to the dumpster, unclicking her carseat to free herself.
And sure enough, there’s a little black and white puffball pilfering through the cardboard boxes that are stacked against the trash.
“I think it’s a raccoon or a skunk, babe. We can’t get too—”
Penelope’s out of the car, sprinting to whatever this feral animal is before I have the chance to finish my sentence. Fucking shit, this kid cannot catch a case of rabies on my watch. I’m fucked. I am so fucked.
“Penelope Caswell! Stop!” I scream across the alley, while trying to extricate myself from the driver’s seat.
To P’s credit, she stops to stand as still as a statue the second I shout, mere feet from the furry creature.
She looks at me with practiced doe eyes.
God damn it, she’s as smart as she is adorable.
I’m ready to read her the riot act about car and animal safety when the smallest of meows come from the little puff’s mouth.
“Wait…Is that—is it a cat?” I move closer to inspect the situation, holding Penelope back by the shoulders.
The situation in question waddles its little fluffy body towards us, and I confirm, it is indeed the tiniest little kitten.
“Ohhhhhmygawd,” I squeal, squatting to capture the baby.
I pick it up and bring it close to my chest, completely disregarding the possibility of getting ringworm.
It would be worth it for this sweet angel.