Chapter 23 Penny
Penny
Now
“You sure you don’t want to come in? I can get you a free drink,” Fia offers again, resting her hand on the inside of the car door as I stop at the curb outside Good Grinds.
I shake my head, eyeing the business she works at. It looks busy in there, considering it’s Friday morning, and I woke up in the mood to be alone today.
Not unexpectedly, we all seem a little worse for the wear today.
My sister’s sporting puffy bags under her eyes; she tossed and turned next to me all night, and this morning, she pretended like nothing happened.
She was quiet as she got ready for work, and when I offered to drive her, she said yes, instead of insisting she walk.
I’m not going to force her to talk about it, though. She will when she’s ready.
“Thank you, but I promise I’m good. There are a few things I need to do this morning.” I smile, and Fia gets out of the car, name tag in hand.
I roll down the window, and she turns around, her red braid slung over her sweater, cheeks rosy in the chilly morning. “I’ll pick you up when your shift’s over.”
“Thanks, mom.” She sarcastically waves.
Maybe she just needs a little distance from last night. Work will be good for her today.
As for me, I do have a lot of errands to run.
Usually on Friday mornings in Raleigh, I go to my favorite café downtown to treat myself to a fancy latte, pop in my headphones, and work on business admin stuff.
Friday nights usually involve dinner out with friends, cocktails on Audrey’s front porch, or even a date with some guy whose name I forget by the following Monday.
But this town is smaller, and there’s not as much noise to hide behind.
And now that I have a stretch of alone time, I do the thing I should’ve done when I got here. Something I can’t avoid any longer.
Even if doing it breaks my heart.
I take the long and windy road to the cemetery, slowing down because the parking lot always creeps up suddenly. My tires crunch the gravel as I pull in. I park and turn off the car. I’m in no particular rush to walk through the maze of gray headstones.
I’ve shown up empty-handed, unlike most people who visit their loved ones’ final resting place.
Then again, I don’t really see the point in putting flowers on a grave site. Something about it always felt unnecessarily mournful to me. Maybe because I know in a few days, those flowers are just going to wither and die, and the groundskeeper will collect them with all the other bouquets.
My calves burn as I trudge up the grassy knoll, taking a shortcut to avoid other people. When I finally spot Nan’s granite headstone at the end of a long row, a sigh of relief rolls through me. Perhaps I needed this more than I realized.
It’s silent here, save for the sound of the wind gently blowing the evergreens that surround this place. But a tightness crawls up my throat—the same one that always greets me when I come here. I ignore it and I kneel at her grave site, rubbing my palms on my jeans.
“Hey, Nan,” I start, glancing around and biting my lip. I never know how to address her like this. “It’s been a while.”
A chilly wind blows my hair in my face, and I notice a few bundled up people in the distance carrying flowers. I pull my attention back to the gravestone.
Still so new looking.
Nan was only sixty-eight when she was taken from us, and it seems cruelly unfair. She only retired a year before, and we were all so excited for her to finally get a break and enjoy a slower life. She deserved so much after giving everything she had to raise me and my siblings.
“I’m sorry I didn’t bring flowers.” A pitiful laugh escapes me.
I scoot closer to the stone and turn around, resting my back against it.
It feels steady and strong, like her. This is how I used to sit against her chest when I was younger.
Even before my mom and dad left, Nan was always the one I ran to.
She was the family pillar. When my parents decided a new life somewhere without their three children would be better, Nan didn’t blink an eye.
She stepped in, taking their place and showing us all true strength.
She was always smiling, too. And usually decked out in her favorite color—yellow.
“I don’t know where to start, so I’m just going to update you,” I begin, playing with the stack of gold bracelets around my wrist. “Fia’s pregnant, and Jesse’s back.” It slips off my tongue and keeps pouring out of me. “I could use some of your strength right now.”
A single tear, hot and thick, rolls down my cheek. I curse at myself, wiping it on my coat sleeve.
I hate crying.
I hate it so much, yet the tears are leaking from me, and I’m defenseless against my own body.
“Fia’s going to be a mom, and I don’t know how to help her.” I inhale a rattled breath. “I’m trying, but I’m ill-equipped for this. I want her to sell the house, because that seems like the right choice. Is it?” I ask, waiting for an answer that won’t come.
“I’m trying to get through to her, Nan, I really am, but she won’t listen to me.
” I pull my legs in closer to my body, so small you wouldn’t be able to see me on the other side of the stone.
“She’s stubborn.” I hiccup a small laugh.
“She acts like everything’s okay, but deep down I know she’s scared, because I’m scared, too.
I know it’s all going to come to a head, and I don’t know what to do when it does.
” The confession is heavy on my shoulders, and they shudder.
I turn my head, feeling the cool granite stone on my cheek, bringing myself back to her.
“There’s something else.” I gulp, feeling like a child as I wring my hands together. “There’s something I never told you.” I peer up toward the gray December sky. “Jesse wasn’t just my best friend. He was the first boy I ever loved.”
A moment goes by, and I wait for the effect of talking about Jesse to feel burdensome like it always does. But the feeling doesn’t arise. “Actually, I think he’s the first, last, and only boy I’ve ever loved.” I sit up straighter, like she’s listening, like she can talk back to me.
“But he broke my heart that summer when he left me to do life alone. I know you said I was never the same after him and Danny got locked up, and you were right. I wasn’t.
I cut them out, because it hurt too much.
My twin brother and the boy I loved with my entire heart were both ripped from me because of their own stupidity, and suddenly, I was alone.
” Shaking my head, I squeeze my eyes shut as they puff up from the tears.
“I always know what to do. Always. But right now, I am more lost than ever.”
Footsteps approach in the grass behind me, and I wipe my eyes quickly, trying not to smudge my makeup. Not that I care what a stranger thinks of me, but I don’t want someone to flash me looks of pity as I sit like a child in the grass.
Anyway, I’ll be fine. I always find a way to be okay.
However, the footsteps don’t belong to a stranger.
I’d know those black boots anywhere; they’re worn in all the right places, familiar in a way that makes my chest ache. As they land next to me, I stay sitting on my butt, feeling safer down here, pretending I don’t already feel the weight of his presence pressing into me.
“I didn’t know you’d be here this morning, I’m sorry.” His voice is an unexpected comfort.
“It’s fine, I was just about to leave,” I reply, and I don’t know if that’s the truth, but I feel stupid now, so I stuff the tissues in my pocket and spring up, wiping the dead grass from my legs. I’m sure he can tell by the red rimming my eyes that I wasn’t here having a jolly good time.
“Don’t leave because of me. I just haven’t been here yet...” His sentence trails off, and I glance up. A black helmet is propped under one of his arms, dark jeans are tucked into his motorcycle boots, and a worn leather jacket sits on his broad shoulders.
But my eyes are immediately drawn to the small bundle of flowers in his other hand.
My gut drops, the tears pressing against the wall again.
Do not let him see you cry.
I take a step back, and Jesse fills in the space, squatting down to place one hand on the gravestone. He gently leans the flowers under Nan’s name. A bundle of daisies.
“That’s kind of you.” I gesture, unsure what to do. A fidgety sensation takes over my limbs.
He doesn’t peel his stare away from the stone.
“Daisies always reminded me of her. She used to wear that daisy necklace,” he replies with a tiny grin.
I can’t believe he remembers.
I bought her that necklace when I was ten. The metal was cheap, and it was definitely a necklace meant for kids, but anytime we had somewhere nice to go, she had it around her neck.
“I remember it. She was sweet like that,” I reply.
He shifts back on his heels. Jesse’s face tilts toward mine, eyes squinting in the sun. His face has lost all boyishness, and I’m still uneasy about just how beautiful he is.
“You’re a lot like her, you know that?” he says, studying my face.
Warmth creeps up my throat. “I don’t know about that.”
“No, you are. You take care of people like she did. She was a saint.”
Nan was a saint, but not me. I seem to make messes worse these days. But I don’t bring this up, I just nod, biting my lip. “Hey, about last night. You didn’t have to do that.”
He stands, facing me, brows furrowed. “Of course, I did. You really think I was going to let something happen to you two?”
“I don’t think it would’ve been that serious,” I say, but I doubt my own logic. Brett has always been a loose cannon.
“I wasn’t going to risk losing anyone else,” he replies, and the words sink into me.
I rest a hand on the headstone to steady myself. I still remember the day we buried her—it was just Fia and me, Nan’s cousin, and a few friends from the hospital she worked at for decades. It was small; even Danny’s furlough request was denied, so he couldn’t attend.
“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you when it happened. It was so sudden, and my whole focus was on my sister and taking care of the legal stuff, but that’s no excuse.”
Maybe it’s the tears, maybe it’s the damn bouquet of daisies, maybe it’s seeing him defend me and my sister last night, but something in me cracks open. A tiny piece of myself willing to meet him halfway.
Willing to give him the apology he deserves.
Jesse chews his lip, hand shoved in his pocket. “I would’ve been here in a heartbeat, you know that, right?”
“I know.” I nod, absorbing the hurt I know he felt. He feels. Right here—right now.
Jesse blows out his cheeks, his tough exterior softening. If he cries, I’ll lose it.
“She loved you like you were her own, she never stopped thinking about you,” I offer. “I hope you know that.”
She really did. Jesse became one of us so quickly, and Nan had a soft spot for him. When he moved to California, she was so worried. She didn’t bring it up to me, but I knew he was on her mind.
He laughs, but it’s the kind you do when it hurts, when words can’t suffice. I want to hold him, to tell him it’s okay. But I just smile, locking in on the ocean of green that stares back at me.
“It sucks to not be able to say goodbye to someone you love,” he replies.
My heart slams into my rib cage, the air stolen from my lungs, because those words land like thunder—echoing and sudden.
I’m caught somewhere between a memory and this very real, raw moment. I never got to say goodbye to him. He was out of my life in a split second, just like Nan.
“It’s a pain I wouldn’t wish on anyone,” I say, pulling my arms across myself as the wind picks up.
The space between us hums with everything we haven’t said—and somehow, it’s all there. Every word. Every goodbye we never got to give.
With my heart still racing, my words slip out without second thought.
“What are you doing after this?”
I guess I really don’t want to spend this day alone, after all.
The smile that follows could light up the whole world—just like it lit up mine, once upon a time.
Jesse grins. “What did you have in mind, princess?”