Chapter 13 Penny
Penny
NOW
“What are you and Jesse going to do tonight?” Fia’s way too chipper as she grabs her puffy winter jacket off the hook.
She got called into work at the coffee shop a few hours earlier than expected, which means the house will be empty, giving me alone time before Jesse returns from work. And I intend to use that time exactly how I want.
I shrug, feeling my heart rate rise again. “I don’t know. Why are you so obsessed with us being best friends anyway?”
I was hoping Fia forgot about the conversation over dinner last night—the one that keeps replaying in my head. You know, pregnancy brain and all that. But apparently that’s not how it works.
She pulls a hat with a fluffy pom-pom over her bright-red hair and exhales like I’m the difficult one here. “Because I know you’re jaded when it comes to men. But Jesse’s going to be here for the next six months, maybe longer. Every time you come to visit me and the baby, he’ll be here.”
Not if I can help it. He’ll be gone.
She pauses, then softens her tone. “For my sake, and for yours, it’d be nice if you two could at least get along.”
I shift, leaning against the staircase banister in the foyer. “I’m not jaded by men. I just don’t do relationships. And how can you be so sure he’ll be here in six months?”
Fia zips up her coat. “I never said you had to be in a relationship with him.” Her eyes lock on mine, and I pretend to gag.
“And he paid me six months’ rent up front, that’s how I know. People don’t do that unless they are committed.”
Six months? I choke on my saliva.
“I just don’t want you to be disappointed or anything, Fi. That’s all.”
She stops fidgeting with the zipper and pauses by the front door. “You’re beginning to sound like a broken record, you know that?” she says flatly.
My defenses simmer as she wraps a scarf that looks homemade around her neck.
I want to be mad at her, but when I watch her bundle up for her walk to work, sadness pulls at my core.
I’ve missed a lot since leaving Wilmington, and I didn’t worry about Fia much because she had Nan and friends and a busy life with college, but now she just has me.
The last thing I want is for Jesse’s sudden arrival to drive a wedge between us.
“Okay.” I shut my eyes, knowing I’m going to regret this. “Fine. I will try with Jesse.”
“Oh, thank you!” she exclaims a bit dramatically. “You two used to be so close, I honestly don’t understand how you could still be mad at him. Whatever happened, let it go and just show him the fun version of Penny I know.”
It’s completely innocent, I think, but I quickly pull her into a hug so she doesn’t see my reddened cheeks.
“Well, I sure hope he likes sushi and true crime docuseries, because that’s on my agenda tonight.”
My sister rolls her eyes, hand already on the front door. “Okay, love you, I’ll be done around nine.”
“You sure you don’t want me to drive you?” I ask again, but Fia shakes her head.
“It’s a fifteen-minute walk, and I read that walking is good when you’re expecting.”
Huh.
“Okay, well text me, I’ll pick you up at nine.” I smile and lock the front door behind her.
What the hell did I just agree to?
The stack of firewood falls over again. Apparently, there’s a right way to build a fire, but I was never a Girl Scout.
This was Danny’s job growing up. I also can’t get anything to catch on fire, and I’m not trying to burn this place down, so I step back and shut the screen, pulling my cardigan closer around me.
I miss my condo and the little light switch next to the fireplace that turns on the modern blue flame. I’m not built for a pioneering lifestyle, and this hundred-year-old house was not built for me.
Back when I was in high school, Nan used to grumble to the neighbors that one day she’d have to bite the bullet and replace all the windows in this house. I’m not sure how that job somehow ended up falling to me, but…here we are.
Out of morbid curiosity, I pull out my phone and look up what that might cost for a house like this.
The moment I see the estimated price range, a startled squawk escapes my lips.
Yeah. No. Absolutely not.
I slip my feet into pink fur-lined slippers, fall back onto the sofa, and find the local sushi restaurant’s menu on my phone. At least good food is still an option tonight.
I’ll take my wins where I can.
The menu looks promising, but as I’m adding my picks to the cart, it dawns on me that Jesse will probably be hungry when he gets home.
In the following moment of weakness, or kindness, or whatever you want to call my soft spot for Fia, I add a few different dishes to the cart for him and hope he likes something I selected.
I add a noodle dish for Fia and her inevitable late-night cravings, too.
It’s a peace offering. A fresh start.
With a few hours to kill before I have to pick up dinner, I decide to check my emails.
I skim the reply from my attorney, and my stomach flips.
It’s confirmation of what I’ve been dreading—I need Danny to sign off on the sale.
In eleven days, I have to be in Raleigh to shoot a wedding, and my calendar is fully booked through January, giving me no time to come back to see Danny. But Fia only has three months before the baby arrives, meaning time is of the essence—I don’t have the luxury of debating this for another day.
I type a response back to the attorney without hesitation: Please draft the letter.
If I were home in the city, I’d have an endless supply of things to do, but here, I feel like I’m twiddling my thumbs, waiting for my enemy to return, so I attempt to do something productive.
I take stock of what’s in the house.
Within minutes, I’m engulfed in stuff, because it’s no exaggeration when I say every nook and cranny of this century-old house is full.
I open the cabinet under the steps and am met with clear plastic bins labeled Easter decor, and behind them is a bin labeled art projects, third grade.
My third-grade art projects. A lump forms in my throat as I stare at the accumulation.
It’s too much. I shut the door, having to lean my body into it to get it to click shut.
Partially, this feels like my fault.
When Nan died two years ago, I didn’t want to throw everything out or sell it right away.
Fia was commuting from the house to college, and she insisted on staying here.
I thought moving out would be more change than she could handle, and I didn’t want to push her.
I was just happy she was keeping up with school and work.
But as months passed, life got back to normal for me—busy.
I was booking more destination weddings than ever, and it was easy to push the idea of cleaning out Nan’s house from my mind.
But now I can see that this isn’t something we can put off forever. I also can’t do this without my siblings’ support.
“Fuck this,” I mutter, walking away, and flick on the TV, killing the next hour.
When it’s finally time to put my coat on and walk out the door, the picture of Nan near the back door gives me pause. I bring my fingers to her face, touching the glass.
“I really hope I’m doing right by you, Nan.”
I take the long route to the restaurant, through neighborhood streets.
I drive past Magnolia Street Park, my old high school, and without even realizing it, Jesse’s old house.
My chest squeezes as I halt at the stop sign and glance at the small white house with a sagging front porch.
It looks like it should be condemned by the city, but to be fair, it didn’t look that different when we were kids.
I don’t know if Jesse ever contacted his family again, after everything. A knot forms in my stomach when I remember how he’d come to school with bruises. But then headlights approach behind me, and I hit the gas, moving along, willing the memories away.
Hoping my pump-up playlist can drown out my impending thoughts about Jesse, I crank the music in my car. Because how am I supposed to spend three hours alone with an ex-boyfriend-turned-roommate? Where’s the manual for that, because I’d love to know.
What should I ask him first, “How was prison?” or “Do you remember when I went down on you in the back of the car after prom?”
Like I said, it’s complicated.
But not for Fia.
It’s black and white for her—she was only eleven when he and Danny were sentenced. Nan protected her from a lot of the gritty truth. She was heartbroken the only way an eleven-year-old could be, she missed her annoying older “brothers.” Then I left, too. Now she’s got me and Jesse back for a bit.
I can’t entirely blame the kid for being hopeful.
Jesse’s black car sits in the driveway when I return from the restaurant, and a loud groan rips through me. But I catch myself.
Nope. I promised Fia I’d try.
I can be sunshine.
When I walk in the house, bracing myself for his presence, it’s eerily quiet.
I wait for Tank to barrel into me, but there are no signs of that slobbery gremlin either.
I drop the takeout containers on the kitchen counter and turn on a light, wondering if he took his dog and bailed on us, on foot? Then my phone starts ringing.
Audrey’s calling to FaceTime me.
Maybe Jesse and Tank just went for a walk, but I’m not going to risk my conversation being heard, so I pop in my earbuds and answer the call.
“Hey, babe!”
Audrey’s face fills the screen, half-covered in flour. “Where are you?”
“Sorry, I just got back to the house. Went to pick up some sushi for tonight.”
Audrey’s mouth falls open. “You do know that pregnant women shouldn’t eat raw fish, right?”
I roll my eyes. “Duh—it’s not for Fia. She’s at work. It’s just me and Jesse tonight.”
Audrey raises her brows, saying nothing. Which says it all.
I dig around in my purse for lip gloss, feeling extra fidgety. “She pretty much begged us to act like functional adults because she’s in a blissful state of mind where we are all a happy family.”
“That’s kind of sweet, though, right?” Audrey replies.
“Sweet, naive…same difference.” I unclip my hair, letting it fall around my shoulders as I lean on the counter. “But I want her to be happy, so if being nice to Jesse makes her feel all warm and fuzzy inside, then fine, I’ll try.”
The words burn like vinegar on my tongue.
“Wouldn’t it be easier to simply tell her the truth? That you two had a romantic falling out?”
I laugh, short and bitter. “That chapter is closed. Fully and completely.”
I put on the pink lip gloss I find in the bottom of my purse, a mindless habit.
“I feel like she’d understand, right? And considering you’re going to be there until Christmas, that’s a long time to pretend nothing happened,” Audrey chimes in, always with logic.
“I’m not pretending. Nothing is currently happening because it’s ancient history. And telling her would only make things harder. She’d feel guilty for inviting him to live here if she knew the truth, then she’d feel like she had to take my side in this, and she doesn’t need that stress right now.”
Audrey tilts her head. “You don’t want her to do that…because you care about his feelings being hurt?”
I nearly knock my phone to the floor. “I did not say that. I’m avoiding drama, that’s all! I ordered him dinner, and I’ll hang out with him for one hour. We’ll play nice and move on with our lives. Happy holidays.”
“Right,” Audrey replies slowly, observing me with narrowed eyes. “You know best.”
I head for the stairs, nearly tripping over Tank, passed out in a melted puddle at the bottom step. His limbs are all bent, tongue half out, snoring. World’s worst guard dog.
The stairs creak as I make my way up to the dark second floor, and I half expect one of them to just give out. I wouldn’t mind being swallowed whole right now.
“Hey, I wanted to talk to you about throwing a baby shower for Fia,” Audrey says, and I can’t believe that didn’t pop into my head.
“You know that's actually not a bad idea, she’s going to need everything. It will have to be in February, though, January is already full for me,” I reply.
“Perfect! I’m happy to handle the food for her, I was just thinking that would be nice.”
“Seriously? That’s so thoughtful, Aud, I owe you. While I have you, let me show you the sweater I picked up at a boutique yesterday. I love it, but I feel like the burnt-orange color might look better on you.”
I adjust the phone to switch on the hallway light.
“Hold on, let me flip the camera—” I press the button, then freeze.
A yellow glow spills from the narrow slit under the bathroom door, and before I can register what’s happening, it swings open, steam billowing out.
Jesse steps into the hallway, shirtless, ruffling his wet hair with one hand, the other pulling the door shut behind him. Water clings to his skin, drops trailing over tattoos and a six-pack of muscle that I have absolutely no business noticing. But I do.
God, do I.
What happened to the Jesse I knew? The tall skinny emo kid?
And his towel sits criminally low on his hips…like pornographically low.
Like barely an inch above his fucking dick.
He sees me, pauses, eyebrows lifting just a little like he knows exactly what he’s doing.
“Everything okay?” he asks, voice gravelly, and my mouth opens, but no sound comes out.
“Holy shit.” Audrey’s voice brings me out of my chokehold.
I spin, nearly body-slamming my bedroom door, and hurl myself into the room, kicking the door shut behind me like a middle school girl who just saw her first R-rated movie.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, eyes squeezed shut like I can erase what I just saw, even though I know, without a doubt, that image is going to be seared into my brain for a very long time. I turn the video call back toward me.
My face is beet red.
“Well,” I mutter, breath still shallow, “that’s Jesse. No photo needed. You just saw more of him than anyone ever asked for.”
Audrey’s eyebrows are still halfway up her forehead when she smiles devilishly. “That’s Jesse?” She lets out a whistle. “You are so screwed.”
I nod, unable to make eye contact.
I’m well aware of just how screwed I am.