17. Penelope
SEVENTEEN
The black duffelhanging from my shoulder had seen better days.
Years of moving had the strap frayed, nearly torn and the black fabric was flimsy from use in several places. Which didn’t help because currently it was packed full of all my belongings.
“Penny?” Mom called from the kitchen as I awkwardly ambled into the house, “is that you?”
I let the bag drop to the floor with a loud thud as my mother finally cleared the foyer. She was wiping her hands on a dish towel, her blue eyes narrowed in confusion…or more likely, concern.
“What on earth are you doing here?”
I let my hands drop to my waist as I blew a drooping bang out of my eye. “Moving back home.”
“What happened?”
My shoulder lifted as I pushed the duffel with my foot toward the hallway.
“My boss didn’t like that I was starting to book more shoots than her. I was being requested nonstop, so she fired me. Then, because I was using her equipment to take all the photos, and her company logo was on the proofs, she said I couldn’t take any with me. I’d essentially have to build my portfolio up from scratch. Again.”
My stomach turned to knots as I went back through the details of my departure from my dream job. I was so excited, and thought my boss, Lisa, would be so proud of me. Turned out she was just a conniving bitch who got threatened easily.
Mom gripped the tail of my bag and helped it make the final few feet to my room before taking a seat on the edge of my queen-sized bed. Everything in the room was exactly how I had left it the last time I was here. I could practically visualize Jameson standing there, telling me to go find someone else.
“That sounds very illegal, honey.”
Yeah. It really did.
With a sigh, I plumped down next to my mom and put my head on her shoulder. “I signed a contract in the beginning…I honestly didn’t even read it, Mom. I skimmed through it and didn’t think for a second that I’d ever be faced with this sort of scenario. Apparently in her non-compete clause if I used her equipment to take the shots then she has legal ownership of the copyright and if I wanted to buy them back from her, I could but I don’t have that sort of money.”
“Oh honey, I’m so sorry.”
I rested there, staring at my dresser and wishing I could erase the last two years of my life.
Nothing was going as planned.
“So what’s your plan, now?” Mom patted my knee and got up. She’d never let me wallow more than a day or so. That just wasn’t her style.
I shrugged. “Find a job here?”
My mother glared down at me, dish towel still tucked in her fist. “You’re more than welcome to stay, you know that. But, I also know if you stay, you’re going to find a way to fall back in love with Jameson King and that worries me. You being near this club worries me. I want you completely free of it. So if you stay here, our first priority needs to be getting you your own apartment.”
My heart gave a pathetic thud. After Jameson’s rejection, I wanted to be out of love with him, but even as I entered Richland and rolled down that familiar dirt road, my excitement over seeing him had pushed me forward. Mom must have seen something in my eyes because she slid in next to me again, letting out a sigh.
“He’s a good leader from what Miles says…but he’s still trying to navigate things. He doesn’t need distractions, and neither do you. He said his peace, right?”
I nodded, remembering when I had sobbed the whole thing to her over the phone after I had left early the following morning.
“Let him be, and just don’t go over there.”
I nodded, knowing she was right. “Did Luke end up helping Jameson with becoming vice president then?”
I hadn’t really been in touch with him, just like I hadn’t been in touch with Jamie. I let both of them sort of slip out of my life. Especially after what Luke had confessed. The last thing I wanted to do was lead him on.
Mom gave me an odd look, as if my question confused her.
“Luke didn’t give Jamie a choice…the older members demanded Luke’s position as vice president. Honestly, they tried to push for Luke to become president, but things were too divided and they chose to go based off Mathias’ last wishes.”
“Which meant Jamie kept the lead position?”
Mom nodded, while she toyed with my hair. “Those two are like fire and ice. Luke is a bit of a snake, and I don’t love how underhanded he does things. He’s nice to your face, but then does something sneaky behind your back. Can’t trust people like that.”
Mom didn’t get to see the newer side of Luke that I had seen. How he’d matured and changed. I didn’t know all the dynamics, but surely there was a misunderstanding about the vice president thing because he only seemed to want to help Jamie when I had talked to him last.
“I’m not going to bother Jameson. I have no desire at all to head over there, or visit the club…but I am friends with Luke, so I might see him around.”
At least I thought I was friends with him. Guilt slid in through my ribs as I considered how hurt he must be that I fell off the face of the earth after I left the funeral two years ago.
“Just be careful with your heart, Penny. You’ve been pining for Jamie for so many years, I’d love to see you finally move on.”
I stood, needing distance from her as I sorted through my truth. I did want to move on. I had tried; it just never really felt right.
“I will, I promise.”
Mom smiled at me, but it came across as very weary. As if she was suddenly exhausted. “I’ve been having some headaches off and on, so if I sleep more often that’s why.”
That seemed strange, she’d never dealt with them before.
“Why are you getting headaches?”
She waved me off. “Probably just the caffeine withdrawals, I’m trying to cut back…don’t worry about it.”
I let it go and started unpacking, realizing I’d need to head out first thing to try and find a new job. One that likely had nothing at all to do with taking pictures, booking shoots, or anything that I had been doing since I left home at seventeen.
I’d be starting completely over, and I’d be doing it completely alone.
Dear Jamie,
This is weird writing you when you’re literally right down the street, but I miss our letters.
I’ve been back home now for nearly six months, and in thattime, I’ve only seen you twice. Once while I was pumping gas, and you gave me that awkward wave, like you weren’t sure what to do, and the second when I came over to the club for that Christmas party with my mom.
You still acted as though I was just a ghost, someone you could see but wouldn’t acknowledge. I guess I’m not sure what I did wrong, you weren’t mad at me when you left that night two years ago…if anything, I should be mad at you.
But for some reason, I’m still here, still waiting and still fucking pining.
Mom says I should move on, start dating. I just don’t know how, Jamie.
Every man gets compared to you, and if someone made me list the contrasts, it wouldn’t even make any sense. No one would understand that my obsession for you comes from under the skin, down in my marrow. A sunlit backdrop to my turbulent life. You are the hope I always feel when things feel hopeless, and your smile feels like it has a rope tethered from it to my heart. Your lips turn up, my heart lifts too.
You make me laugh, and you breathe poetry, as if I was to crawl inside your head and found it was all purple night skies and constellations. I’ve missed you all these years, Jamie. All the times I’ve stared at you, only to have you ignore me. Or the times I’ve watched you, only to have you watch someone else.
This is toxic.
It needs to stop.
I need to move on.
I folded the letter and slid it into my journal, pressing the wildflower over it and made a wish.
Help me move onand let him go once and for all.
Closing the worn leather-bound journal, I stood and left the field of wildflowers and let the weight of finality fill me. Tomorrow I’d go on a date, and that would be that.