56. Penelope
fifty-six
penelope
Thirty-thousand feet up in the air gives a lot of perspective.
We’re only flying to New York, and yet, high above the clouds at the start of spring break, I can see everything from up here.
The last time I was up this high, I was nursing a concrete mixer of emotions over my first public appearance. Now, Ant is by my side, wearing a homemade T-shirt that reads “PJ Layne’s Biggest Fan” that I’m almost certain he had Juliet make with her Cricut machine.
The last time I was up here, I wasn’t certain about what my path looked like up ahead. Two days ago at work, I announced that I wouldn’t be returning to the classroom in the fall. It surprised me how many of my colleagues congratulated me or told me that they had read my work before and loved it. Most surprising was Phyllis, who was already planning to host a book club for Hills and Valleys .
Last time, I had my crew by my side. This time, they’re all spending their spring breaks with their families, and I couldn’t be happier for them. Aaron and Lucy are honeymooning in Hawaii—but at Disney’s hotel. Sam and Juliet are taking Mason to tour colleges. Claire and Nathan are looking at wedding venues.
The last time I was up in the clouds, I thought I needed stability from others. The book in the hands of an unsuspecting passenger three rows ahead with my name branded on the cover reminds me that I’ve always been able to hold myself up. Still, having Anthony by my side reminds me that I don’t ever have to do things alone.
“Are you going to tell her?” he whispers, his lips against my ear making my skin sizzle.
“She’s just getting to the good part. I’ll catch her on the way out,” I say, noting the chapter number that she just reached.
Ant yawns, reminding me of the early hour.
“Close your eyes for a little while,” I say softly, squeezing his thigh. “We’re not going to get much sleep this week.”
The tour schedule is hectic. Five cities in five days. All with multiple signings. Some with red eye flights. Others, we’re taking a van. And Ant has vowed to spend his entire spring break by my side. He blinks at me sleepily and slips his hand beneath mine.
“Wake me up before we land. I want to be awake for all of the exciting stuff.”
“You mean a bunch of people clapping because the plane landed safely?” I ask, lifting a brow.
“No, smartass. Author PJ Layne touching down for the first city of her first book tour.”
I beam. At his unwavering support and enthusiasm. Mostly at the love that shines behind his exhaustion.
“And you’re going to wear that shirt the entire time, aren’t you?”
“I had Juliet make me multiples,” he nods. “I have another that says ‘PJ Layne’s Smut Inspo,' but that one is for after hours."
He waggles his brows, and I shoot him an eye roll as he tips his hat over his eyes and knocks out. True to his word, Anthony is my camera man, documenting the entire trip, starting as I surprise the reader on the plane. He has to buy a storage plan for his phone halfway through my first signing.
As my line dies down, I see a familiar face at the end. I wait until she approaches the table with my newest in hand to stand and hug her.
“Debbie! What are you doing here?!” I cry.
“I wouldn’t miss my girl’s first book tour,” she exclaims.
Something about my girl coming from her reminds me that I have all the people I need surrounding me. It also makes me wonder how long her son has been keeping this secret. I sign her book, and then invite her to join Ant, the team, and me for dinner.
“You know, I can still ground that son of mine for how he ripped your heart apart,” she teases while we’re seated in a quaint Italian restaurant, while Ant and Rafe are at the bar watching preseason baseball.
“You already read it?” My face flushes.
“In damn near one sitting.”
“God, I hope you skipped over the saucy bits.”
“Part of me didn’t want to, but this one was a little personal,” she smirks, then softens. “I’m just glad you two found your way back to one another.”
“Me too. Although, I’m beginning to wonder if you had something to do with it…” I lift a brow as she blanches, Who? Little old me? written all over her expression. “I’m sure the ‘couple who booked the townhouse’ enjoyed their little Valentine’s getaway.”
She doesn’t apologize—or justify—like I thought she would. Instead, Debbie’s cheeks turn the color of pasta sauce.
“What?” I chuckle. “Did you not have renters at all? You could’ve just?—”
“I couldn’t leave Margie like that.”
The phantom of her words is the same as my mother’s name in my vocabulary. Debbie swallows and gathers herself.
“She’s been my best girl since we were kids. I don’t know what exactly made her go from the Margie I used to know to a woman with dollar signs in her eyes. She saw what Ed and I cultivated from the ground up, and that was all she could strive for. It became her vice. And her two babies suffered because of it. It was the least I could do—giving her the townhouse. I’ve been sending her half the money we make on rentals since the beginning, but somehow, that was never enough. What she needs is stability to make a fresh start. The house is paid off. She’ll get back on her feet one day. It’s the least I can do. She gave us you.”
I built up a front a long time ago where toughness equated not crying. Now I know better. Crying makes a way for emotions to breathe.
With tears in my eyes, I wrap her in a tight hug. One I wonder if I’ll ever be able to feel from my own mother again someday. For now, I have the people I need in my corner.
“Deborah! Why are you making the woman of the hour cry? ” Ant says, returning with twin champagne glasses. He keeps one for himself and slides the other in front of me; Rafe offers one to Debbie, and the guys take their seats.
“We’re just talking about how far you’ve both come.”
“They’re happy tears. I promise,” I nod with a watery smile.
The rest of dinner is filled with laughter—and a few baby photos, courtesy of Debbie. Ant booked her a room in the same hotel, and she promises to say goodbye before we jet off to Chicago in the morning.
We’re lying in bed, talking over the highlights of the day, Ant tracing little doodles on my back while I simply revel in the anchor that I have with my body against his.
“I didn’t know she gave it to your mom,” he says softly. “Does it bother you?”
It’s a question I’ve been flipping around in my head like an overcooked quesadilla. I still don’t have the answer.
“I don’t know. I mean, she’s my mom, but when has she ever been my mom? I feel like…”
I sigh, running a hand through my hair and letting it tangle there.
“Hey.” Ant tilts my chin with his thumb. “The beauty of it is? You don’t have to decide right now. Enjoy the present. Enjoy right now . When you’re ready, at least you know where to find her.”
I chuckle humorlessly.
“I doubt she’s going very far.”
Shaking my head, I draw a heart over his with my fingertip.
“I guess it doesn’t really matter, does it?”
Ant tilts his head in question. Flattening my palm on his chest to give me leverage to press up, I use my other hand to cup his face.
“I have all of the people I need right here in my corner.”
Kissing him anchors that truth into place.