23. Fourteen Years Ago
GAVIN
Penny: I need you.
Me: Where are you?
Penny: On the bench across the street from the Stop and Shop.
I drove like a bat out of hell. Penny and I hadn’t been good for two months, but she needed me now. We talked daily in some form, but things had been strained. She hadn’t gotten over that day I left her at the PT clinic, and I was furious and jealous that she was dating Douche-face. She was also grieving about her dad still . . . and grieving about dance, which made her a loose cannon, a raw nerve . . . all the time. The prognosis on her knee wasn’t great. Her ligaments were healing, but it would be months before she’d be able to walk properly, let alone dance with that effortless grace she once had. It made her depressed. Without dancing, she was also gaining weight, which made her even more depressed.
When I pulled over to the side of the street, she stood from the bus bench and limped to my car. She was wearing jeans, a tank top, a short black leather jacket, and black combat boots. She looked mean.
“Where’s your car?” I asked.
“Broke down over on West Mountain.”
“What do you think it is?” I pulled over and texted Pete at the garage about getting a tow truck.
“I don’t know what it is. It stalled in the intersection and some lady helped me push it to the side.”
I drove toward West Mountain, where I spotted her car on the edge of the road. “Give me the keys.” She obliged and stayed in the car.
When I got back a few minutes later, she was looking out the window like a lost little girl. “I put the keys under the mat. Pete will send someone to tow it to the shop.”
“Thanks,” she said quietly.
I headed toward her house as we sat in silence. Finally, I spoke up. “What’s going on, Penny? Why did you call me instead of Lance?”
“Actually, can we go to your place? I don’t want to go home right now.”
“Sure, but I need to stop by my dad’s place and drop off a part for his car first.” I studied her out of the corner of my eye. A minute later, she was crying. What the hell’s going on?
“Hold on, hold on.” I parked the car in a nearby lot and scooted across the bench seat. Taking her in my arms, I said, “What is it, P? Tell me.”
“I’m . . . pregnant,” she squeaked.
My heart dropped. “What?”
“I’m pregnant. With a baby.” I pulled back and looked at her face. She was puffy and red.
“Lance?”
She nodded.
“Does he know?” I asked.
“No.”
“You told me first?”
She nodded again.
“Have an abortion. I’ll pay for it.” Oh my God, I can’t let this happen.
She was speechless. She shook her head.
“You don’t even believe in God, so you don’t have to keep it for religious reasons,” I said.
“Yes, I do.” Her sobs got louder and fuller. She tried to say more but couldn’t.
“My dad will know what to do.” I told her. “We’ll go to his place and talk to him.”
She shook her head again. “Listen, Gavin—”
“Look, I’ve been meaning to tell you something. I just broke up with Lottie two days ago. It’s over. Okay?” It was true; I’d been waiting for the right time to tell Penny the news, to tell her how I felt about her . . . how I’d always felt about her. I never expected her to drop a bomb before I got the chance.
Don’t worry. She’ll have an abortion and dump that idiot and then we can be together. Finally. Was I horrible for thinking that?
“Why’d you two break up all of a sudden? I mean, you were the picture of romantic bliss and enduring love.”
“Don’t be a smartass. We were getting along but she’s been sick for a long time. She just found out that she’s bipolar, and she’s been struggling with her medication. To be totally honest, it was mutual. She needs time to focus on herself.”
“Well, are you sad?”
“I’m relieved.”
“Gavin, the bleeding heart.”
“Look, I don’t want to make this about Lottie. The point is that we did what was best for both of us. Now we’re going to do what’s best for you: you’re going to call Planned Parenthood, make an appointment, and call Lance to break up with him.”
Her hands tightened into fists. “Enough! Gavin, listen to me. They told me when the baby’s due, based on how far along I am.”
“What are you saying? It’s too late for an abortion?”
“No!” She stopped crying. “No, it’s not too late. But stop and listen to yourself. How can you be so cold? How can you say, ‘Get an abortion, Penny’? Just like that? Huh?”
“No, you listen. You’re not in love with Lance, and I’m not being cavalier about abortion. This isn’t like you. You’re resolute about your future. The Penny I know would get an abortion. This is a mistake. Bad timing. The result of irresponsible sex.” I stopped. The thought of her having sex with Lance made me physically ill.
“It doesn’t matter what you say because I’m not getting an abortion. The due date is my father’s birthday.” Her face drained of all color as she stared at me, expressionless. “And we used a condom.”
Suddenly, I felt frantic. Panicky, like the conversation was slipping out of my control. “P, don’t tell me you think this is the second coming of your dad?”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t. I just think it’s a sign. I know, in my heart, that I shouldn’t have an abortion.”
“You don’t believe in signs.”
“I do now.”
“We’re going to my dad’s.” My father adored Penny, and I knew he’d be able to talk some sense into her.
When we got to my dad’s, I opened the door and walked in, with Penny trailing behind me. He was at the kitchen counter, eating smoked oysters from the can.
“Hey kids.”
“Dad, Penny’s pregnant with Limpdick’s baby and she won’t have an abortion because the due date is her dad’s birthday and she thinks it’s a sign and she’s being irrational and she can’t have this baby, it will ruin her life and Lance will always have to be around forever and this whole situation is fucked.” I was practically crying as Penny stood quietly behind me. My dad just stared at me with an open mouth full of smoked oysters. “And . . . and Penny is pregnant with Limpdick’s baby . . .”
“You said that already, son,” my dad said. He was a large, formidable man with a thick beard, but inside, he was gentle, kind, and smart. “Slow down,” he said as he chewed and swallowed the oysters in his mouth. He looked from me to Penny and back before focusing his eyes on the barstools. “Sit.”
Penny reached for an oyster and my dad pushed the can toward her. “Ew, how can you eat those right now?” I said.
She shrugged. “I love these. And I’m hungry.”
“No one born after 1967 loves those.”
She shrugged again and popped one in her mouth.
My dad took a deep breath.
“Is it true, Penny?” he asked.
“You want to keep the baby, you keep the baby. It’s a blessing. Your mom and I will help, but you don’t have to marry Limpdi—” He turned and looked at me. “Son, I have to tell you, that’s not an appropriate nickname.” I scowled. He looked back at Penny. “Lance, is it?”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t have to marry Lance, dear. Gavin’s mother and I got married and it only lasted a year before she ran off to Hollywood. If the love isn’t there . . .”
“I know,” Penny said. “I know.”
I studied her face intently as she ate smoked oysters in silence. But does she know?
AFTER SITTING THROUGH my dad’s advice, which was the opposite of everything I wanted him to say, I drove Penny home, pulled into the driveway, and turned off Charlize.
“I wouldn’t even know if Lance wants to marry me anyway,” she said, not looking at me.
“Of course he will. But you don’t have to, like my dad said,” I told her.
“Why are you so sure Lance will be happy about it?”
“Because he’s in love with you.” I turned and caught her eye for longer than a beat. She looked away.
“I can’t believe you stayed with Lottie as long as you did. Everyone knew there was something off about her. It wasn’t a news flash when you told me she was bipolar. I actually have more sympathy for her now, poor thing. She’ll have to battle a life-changing mental disorder forever. Maybe you should actually try to be there for her instead of trying to run my life.”
“Penny, I don’t need to hear it. I told you, it was mutual.” Depression was sinking in now. She was trying to push me away, eliminate an obstacle. Penny was going to have a baby and it wasn’t mine. I had never even touched her. Would I ever?
Would she ever be mine?