25. Fourteen Years Ago
GAVIN
She was glowing. A visible light radiated from her thin shoulders and flushed her cheeks with color. Pregnant Penny was such a beautiful sight. Indescribable.
We were in her mother’s house, in the basement dance studio. Penny had cranked the heater up and was wearing only a thin pink nightgown as she stretched her leg up on the barre spanning the mirrored wall. I could see everything. Her white panties, her belly, plump with life. She had never been shy around me but she was even less self-conscious now that she was carrying life.
“I’m showing so early. Isn’t it weird that I feel the healthiest I’ve ever felt? And my knee is like bionic now.”
Sitting on the basement steps, I could do nothing but watch her.
“Are you gonna talk or just sit there and stare?”
“Sit here and stare,” I said, blank faced.
“Stop, Gavin.”
“I’m just trippin’ on you being pregnant.”
“Well, I am. Six months and I look nine months, huh?”
I shook my head. “You look great.”
“That’s because I eat now. It’s impossible not to.”
“Good. You’re so much stronger looking.” I liked her with a little meat on her bones. I wanted so badly to reach out and touch her lush skin. “You never told me how it went with Lance. Why’d you wait so long to tell him?”
“Don’t know.” She was dancing to “Plainsong” by The Cure.
“I love this song,” I told her.
“I know, that’s why I’m dancing to it,” she said breathlessly as she twirled.
Don’t do that to me. Don’t tease me. She jumped and did a pirouette. “Be careful,” I told her.
She had some grace back but still looked unsure on her feet. It could have been her knee or the pregnancy. I knew she needed to dance, though. She would always need to dance.
“What did he say? Was he mad?”
She turned the music down a little. “Who, Lance?”
“No, the pope. Yes, Lance.”
Dancing away with her back to me, she said, “He asked me to marry him.”
Something exploded in my brain. I held my head, thinking I had just had an aneurysm. I stood up shaking, as if I was no longer in control of my body. As I slowly walked toward her, she stopped dancing. Grabbing her hands, I scanned her ring finger but there was nothing. “You said no?” My voice was not my own.
She was staring up at me, the chocolate pools of her eyes swirling with confusion. We were inches apart. I could have bent and kissed her slightly parted lips.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.
I placed my hand flush on her belly and she didn’t flinch. “Have you felt the baby kick yet?” I asked.
“Flutters.” She was still scanning my face with intensity. “What’s going on in that big brain of yours, Gav?” She put her palm to my cheek.
“Don’t touch me like that.”
Shaking her head and pulling her hand back, she said, “Yes, you’re right. Sorry.”
“You said no, right?” I asked again.
She swallowed.
“Tell me you said no.” I grabbed her hand and ran my thumb down her ring finger. “No ring.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t live with my mom, Gavin. My mother can’t support a baby and me. She can barely support herself and Kiki on a secretary’s wage.”
“Get a job then. I can help. My dad can help.”
“I’m not taking handouts.”
“It wouldn’t be a handout. Tell me you said no.”
I pulled her to me as she started to cry. I held her tightly against my body. This is how it feels to have your heart broken. She felt guilty because she knew she was breaking me apart.
“What did you think?” she sniffled. “That you and I . . . what? You just graduated from college.”
“I have two degrees now. I’ll get a better job than Pete’s garage. Tell me you said no.”
Pulling away with resolve, she wiped the tears from her face. “But I love him.”
I shook my head vehemently. “No! You don’t.”
“Yes, Gavin. He’s going to be the father of my child.”
“That doesn’t mean you love him.”
“I said yes. I said yes. We’re going to get married.”
The crushing ache in my chest was getting stronger. “Why were you waiting to tell me? Why?” My voice was frantic.
She walked over to get her long sweater, insecurity showing in her movements for the first time since I’d met her. “Because I knew you’d have this reaction. Lance is ready to be a husband and a father. He cares so much for me.”
“Yes!” I shouted. “He’s in love with you. I get it! I know how he feels!”
“Oh, don’t come at me with your declarations now. You said I wasn’t your Carissa, remember? I’m probably not even your Lottie or Kimber, either.”
How far would I go to convince her? No, Penny, you’re not my Carissa or Lottie or Kimber. You’re my everything.
I was too weak to fight anymore. “That’s right. What we have is different,” I said, resigned.
She put her tiny hands on my shoulders to calm me. “Friendship,” she said. “A deep, meaningful friendship.”
“A deep, meaningful friendship,” I repeated. But I had to try one last time. “I can take care of you, Penny.”
Still staring up at me, she silently shook her head for several moments. Was she contemplating it? “It’s too late,” she whispered, before pushing past me and running up the stairs.
I left Fort Collins that day. I ran from Penny and her growing belly, my dad’s worldly advice, Pete’s garage, and all the reminders that I was in love with a girl I couldn’t have.