52. Anthony
fifty-two
anthony
Knitting is hard work, I will tell you that.
I only made the one hat, but the inklings from my childhood of learning a new skill reminded me that working new muscles takes hard work.
Or, it could just be that talking with Penelope Barker for thirty minutes after a drought wrung out my heart.
I am exhausted. Actually, that word doesn’t even begin to cover it. I’m like a barrel turned upside down to get the last few drops out, then forgotten and left on its head.
I went straight from helping my mom to working at my place. Between that and the knitting, my hands and my heart are raw. And still, as soon as I walk through the door, I’m wired in one direction.
Only the microwave light is on, like she left it for me. One quick peek down her hallway tells me that Pen is awake and in her bedroom, the light beneath her closed door calling to the devil on my shoulder. I can’t. Not just yet. I have one thing to do first.
With my pajamas on, and my bucket of emotional support cheeseballs at the ready, I dive into our story from page one.
“Anthony, give me a hand with this, will you?” Mom asks, piercing the wall of murk that has been settled around me since I finished her book.
I blink, push up from the kitchen table, clod over to where she’s washing dishes, and start to dry. I barely register what she’s saying—I know she’s going on about the drama in her knitting circle or book club or something, but I only catch every few words. I’m still surrounded by Penelope’s.
I knew she was hurt, but I guess I never assumed the degree to which my arrow dug.
The way her character built up walls of distrust from every other bad relationship, only to let Finn’s peel them back with his deceiving hands, just to crush them into dust and blow them away with the wind?
That was me . I did that to her. And then, to read about the way she’d cried? Holed up and sunken in on herself? I had no idea how hard she fell for me in those few weeks, but the fall from my deception left her shattered. I’ve been torn between an insistent need to go and bandage her up, and wallowing in my shame, knowing I don’t deserve to.
“…feel bad for Penelope.”
“Hmm? What?”
“I knew that would snap you out of it.”
One tilt of my head shows me that my mother is smirking at the dish in her hands.
“I was saying that I forgot about a booking at the townhouse over Valentine’s Day. I figured you two would be out by then. I actually need the place cleared out soon. Your house is livable. Hers isn’t. I was just wondering where she’ll go…”
Mom trails off, waiting for me to fill in the blanks. When I don’t, she huffs.
“Are you going to stop sulking anytime soon? Or at least tell me why you’re moping around instead of fixing things?”
My sigh creates an updraft.
“You know, I always wondered what happened between the two of you in Florida. As your mom, I always want what’s best for you. But in the same sense, my opinions shouldn’t come first unless something is hurting you. I never wanted to overstep with Avery, even though I could tell that her not wanting a family was hurting. You had to make that decision on your own. But when it comes to Penny…”
Just the sound of her name makes my heart clench, for all the wrong I did, and all the ways I hurt her that I never got the chance to make up for.
“Margie and I used to joke back in the day that the two of you would end up together. I was never going to force it, but after Florida, I saw something change in you, Anthony. You got your spark back.”
“It’s her.”
I say it wistfully. Those two words have the power to calm the storm within me.
“As soon as I’m with her, the rest of the world melts away. I can do anything as long as we’re there to hold each other up. I don’t even have to worry about…”
“The bees in your head?” she smiles.
I nod.
“She makes them stop, Mom. She makes me want to be better. She makes me want to never mess up like that again. I know that if I do, she’ll help me right it. But I’m still scared.”
She strokes the side of my head and sighs.
“My sweet boy. If she loves you like I think she does, she’ll stand right by your side while you figure it out.”
“You know, she actually doesn’t like being called Penny?”
Mom grins, something in her eyes shining.
“Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind.”
The truth in her statement weighs like a new planet joining the solar system, throwing my entire axis off kilter before righting it again in a new light. With my eyes open to the people in my corner—my parents, my brothers, and hopefully after this, Penelope—I have a shimmering kernel of confidence that she will be by my side as we figure things out together.