36. Anthony
thirty-six
anthony
“Where are you going?”
I can’t erase the panic in her voice. I know that it’s my fault it’s there. Before I’m even fully up, I lay back down, still inside her, and pull her to me for a kiss so gentle and tender, I wonder if it’ll leave the letters l-o-v-e tattooed on her lips.
“I’m just getting a washcloth to clean you up. I’ll be right back, I promise.”
Even in the three little kisses I leave her with, her nails digging into my wrist cut like a knife. I disappear and return as quickly as I can, making sure we’re both clean before I dive back into bed. Still, I’m not sure what we’re doing here. I want nothing more than to pull her to me, but she seems hesitant. We’re laying on our sides beneath the covers facing each other, eyes wandering, the inches of space between us the size of the ocean.
“So, I think I joined a knitting circle with your mom,” she says, doing that thing again where she draws aimless patterns in the sheets.
“Oh yeah? How’d that come about?” I ask. Anything to keep her talking.
“She said she needed more hands knitting beanies for the NICU or something. I figured I could do my part for your mom since…”
She freezes her ministrations.
“You said your mom was too busy to spend Thanksgiving with you…”
I trail off, leaving the rest in her hands. She deflates, like she’s been waiting for someone to ask so she could talk about it. I wonder just how much she keeps bottled up inside.
“Yeah, she’s… She has some new boy toy that she followed out to Vegas. She said I could join them, but I didn’t feel like trekking to the other side of the country to watch her love someone more than me.”
If this is what it looks like to let it all out, I fear for what the insides of her scarred up heart look like. I don’t even hesitate before sliding my arm beneath her side and tugging her to me.
“All she’s ever wanted in this life has been money.”
She shakes her head, plants her wandering hands on my chest, and draws her little patterns there while she talks.
“She said my dad ran before she could catch him, and I’m beginning to wonder if her type all along was guys with deep pockets. My brother Connor was lucky his dad was on a business trip in the same place twice. He saw my mom on a barstool—four months pregnant, might I add—and once he found out my brother was his, he stopped at nothing to get full custody of his son. Took him years, and one call to the police, but in the end, she saw none of his money, and that was okay with me.”
“What do you mean ‘one call to the police?’”
“Don’t you remember? You were there.”
This is the first she’s looked me in the eye. The pain in her eyes runs so deep, I can’t even see the bottom.
“We were fifteen. It was the last time I saw you before…” She shakes her head. “Anyway, she took Connor when she wasn’t supposed to have him. He wouldn’t stop crying, and when he threatened to call his dad, she took his phone with her to the bar. Said she was going to ‘find us a new dad,’ which meant she was probably out of money.
“She came back drunk, and started coming at him. I stepped in to protect him. Shouted at her. Told her to just let Connor go back to his dad. And she told me, ‘That’ll happen when his daddy pays me what I’m owed.’ I understood then. It’s like my rose colored glasses disintegrated. I took Connor to my room, locked the door, and called the cops to turn her in. I was so mad. I was so mad at her, Ant. She used us for money, like the price we had to pay for a nine month pregnancy was getting her up the ladder somewhere.”
I’m so glad I’m holding onto her right now, or I’d have nothing to anchor the shaking of my body, the absolute terror I want to reign on her mother, the way my body has already rewired itself to be her protector. She shakes her head, eyeing the space between us as she continues.
“Anyway. That was the final nail in the coffin for that custody battle. But when they took her to jail for the night and asked if I had someone to call, I called your mom. She came and got me, stopped for ice cream on the way…”
It all clicks.
Penelope came to the house on the Cape with us for a few weeks. I was a teenager and didn’t really wonder or care as to why. It was the summer of finding girls on the beach and stealing wine coolers from my parents’ booze fridge in the garage. But one night, Mom came back with a red headed firecracker and ice cream for everyone. She made me give Penelope the remote, and we had to watch some chick flick. I remember being annoyed, but also knew to shut my trap—not just because Mom had told me so, but because the look in her eyes that she was trying to hide behind her mane of red hair told me to treat her gently.
“P, I’m so?—”
“Don’t say you’re sorry. Please . I’ve had enough sorries in my life. Between the two of us, I could be done with them.”
My heart clenches. I know I’ve said it to her, and in the back of my mind I know it hasn’t been nearly enough, but I tamp them all down.
“Anyway. That’s why I didn’t go see her for Thanksgiving. Why I haven’t seen her since two Christmases ago—when she invited me to Florida to see if I could spare her the money since my books were doing so well.”
I shift, tilting her chin up to look at me.
“She did what ?”
Pen’s smile smirks, but her eyes are wells of sorrow.
“Yeah. I thought she invited me along to reconcile or some bullshit, but nope .” She pops the ‘p’ and shakes her head. “Dear old Margie’s latest schmuck dumped her, and she needed some extra cash. I think your mom invited her to Florida to talk some sense into her, but once I was there, her only game was to sink her claws into my hard earned success.”
“That’s why you wanted to disappear so often.”
“Yes.”
I remember seeing Penelope Barker for the first time in years on that vacation, and being equally as shocked to see her both a hollow shell and a lit stick of dynamite all at once. In a pit with my own failed relationship and down on myself, I’d followed every stray invitation she’d extended. We went on walks along the beach and boat rides to nowhere and back. Her walls were fortified, but began to melt with each and every trip we took away from the resort.
Away from her mother .
But if she was using that time to get away from her mom…
“It’s why I was so heartbroken when you ditched me,” she says, stronger than the other times we’ve talked about us. “I was at my lowest point. I’d told my mom about my books because I had some warped sense that maybe she’d finally be proud of me; maybe this time, we could have a real relationship, some grown up girl bonding or some stupid shit. And then, I found you. And you made me feel like I could take on the world. You made me feel like none of that mattered, because all of the things you said to me made me believe in myself for me again.”
She doesn’t want my apologies, even though they’re waiting on the tip of my tongue in droves to fall on their knees. Instead, I give her my truth, like I had that whole week.
“You were that for me, too.” I swallow, tilting her chin up to look at me again so that she knows my heart was stitching itself to her even then. “I know that I went about it in all of the wrong ways, Pen, but with every doubt I’d been having about myself, you showed me I didn’t need to listen.”
Her aimless little drawings on my chest turn into a squeeze, and her eyes open with sincerity.
“Do you still have them? All of those doubts?”
She’s diverting the conversation in my direction, and while part of me fears it’s a deflection, I also know how heavy that had to be. I’d told her so back on that beach, in not as many words—that I feared the world was swallowing me faster than I could swim, and I didn’t know which buoy to reach for. I swallow the fear of unearthing myself again. If she can be brave enough, I can too.
“I’ve always felt like I was only ever meant to mess up. I didn’t even come into this world because someone wanted me. And I should stop and say that I love both of my parents. They are the greatest human beings I could have asked for, and they never once made me feel like I was a mistake, or like I had forced them to be together. But I still carried that weight. I had a chink in my armor, and then Ian came along and was perfect. He was like their do-over, when round one came as damaged goods.
“So I fell into that role. If things went wrong, oh well! That’s just Anthony. It was easier that way. It got worse as I got older. I used that mindset to justify doing stupid things—cutting class, sneaking booze underage, and being terrible in relationships. My family has kind of expected me to mess up, and I’ve just rolled with it.”
“That’s why you’re hesitant about this assistant principal job,” she finishes for me. “You don’t want to mess it up.”
I shake my head, swallowing the ball of emotion. She gets me. She pegged me on the beach that night, seeing through my bullshit right away.
“You’re not happy. You’re very clearly masking some big insecurity. What are you doing in your life that’s so unfulfilling, Anthony Ellis?”
I’d told her about what was going on at Meadow Ridge, and how I wanted to do big things but didn’t believe in myself. Something about Penelope had me spilling my guts like water down the drain. I don’t know if it’s coincidence or fate smiling down on me, but she utters the same words she had back then right now, lying in my arms.
“You’re going to mess up, Ant. We all do. It’s how you get back up again that determines if you’re meant to do great things. And I think you are.”
She is all I need in this life. I knew it then on that beach at midnight, and I know it now, with her on the horizon of giving me a second chance.
“I think you’re meant for this job. People are always going to buck change, but your change is for the better. If you have the opportunity to take the job—whether here, or at a different school—don’t let anything stand in your way.”
I nod in gratitude, knowing that if I so much as open my mouth, I’m going to be spilling a certain four letter word that will surely scare her away. She starts to drift off in my arms and then mutters into the crook of my neck.
“You’re only staying in here because of the birds, right?”
“Yeah,” I huff a laugh. “Just the birds, boss. No other reason I’d stay in this very comfy bed, wrapped around the woman I can’t get enough of.”
“You can definitely have too much of me,” she giggles sleepily.
“You won’t hear me complaining.”
I press soft kisses into her temple as she drifts off, and hold onto her until I’m sure her dreams are sweet.
She needs stability in this life. Penelope Barker puts on a tough front, but when all is said and done, she needs a foundation she can trust to stand upon that won’t crumble while she takes on the world. I am determined to be it for her.