Chapter Thirty-Seven
Darren
Penny fell asleep in just her panties, her arms wrapped around me, her lips brushing against my chest, mouth slightly open. That was how I found her when I awoke the next morning, bathed in the gray light of dawn.
It was a joy just to lay there holding her. I almost wanted to call in sick so that we could go on spending the day in bed together—not doing anything in particular, just holding each other and talking. She was perfect in so many ways—so cute, so sensitive, so loyal, so devoted—and I just wanted to snuggle with her and tell her exactly how perfect she was.
Her eyes were still shut tightly. I leaned down and kissed her on the tender part of her ears, then brushed my lips against her neck and cheeks. She stirred slowly and smiled as she realized where she was and whose breath mingled with hers.
Penny sat up, blinking groggily and smacking her lips, her hair wild and uncombed. Her first instinct was to reach for a sheet or blanket with which to cover her tiny breasts; but not finding any nearby, she placed one arm across her chest and waved with her free hand, blushing but radiant.
“Good morning,” she said, yawning. She reached to cover her mouth with her other hand, momentarily forgetting that she was using it to hide her boobs.
“Hey, you. Did you sleep well?”
“Mmmm, better than ever. Except I woke up to a weird tickle on the side of my neck and came to find out some boy was kissing me.”
“Guilty,” I said, raising both hands in the air. “I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”
“I’ll think about it. I had the most horrible dream last night that I was separated from you and couldn’t find you. I think we were wandering through Boston and you got lost in the crowd in the subway. And I wasn’t carrying my cell phone, so I couldn’t call you. I hadn’t felt so anxious in ages. And then when I woke up and realized you were still there, it was the greatest feeling. Sometimes it almost feels too good to be real, the kind of thing that can’t last or I might end up being perfectly happy.”
“Well, what would be wrong with that?” I asked.
“I just—are we allowed to be this happy?” She shivered; goosebumps were forming on her bare arms in the cold gray light. “I guess in the back of my mind, I’ve always thought you were only allowed a certain amount of happiness, and if you used it up too soon, you were doomed to be miserable for the rest of your life.”
“Nope, that’s not how it works,” I said, smiling. Even though we had just slept together not six hours ago, I still wanted her. It never stopped.
“Maybe not. I just never expected to be dating the perfect person for me and living my perfect life.”
“Believe it.” Taking her arm by the wrist and drawing it down into her lap, I kissed her softly on the lips. Every time we kissed, her eyes widened in surprise, as though she had forgotten we were dating—as though she had never been kissed before.
***
And that was our life for the next month. Each morning we would take turns making breakfast. Penny continued to practice her pancakes, and within a few weeks she had smoothed all the lumps out. They were even beginning to form circles rather than misshapen blobs.
Dickie was released from the hospital about a week after the accident, and with the aid of a physical therapist, he was learning how to walk again without any trouble. Although Penny had predicted that he would give up on fixing up racecars after his near brush with death, he was back in the shop by the end of the summer working on a Mustang I bought with my winnings from the first race.
I wasn’t looking forward to having to explain to Penny that I planned to continue racing, but she bore the news more graciously than I had expected.
“I hope you don’t mind,” I told her one morning as we were making crepes, “but I’ve already made plans for tomorrow night.”
“You don’t have to apologize for wanting to do things without me,” said Penny. “Where are you going?”
“Well…” I hesitated. “There’s another race on the strip, and Adam has been trash-talking me all week. I figured an easy win tomorrow night would deflate his head a little.”
To my surprise, Penny smiled and kissed me on the cheek. “I think I would like that, too.”
She went back to minding the crepes while I looked on incredulously. “You’re not going to try to stop me at all?”
She shook her head. “I was never worried about you getting into an accident. You’re much too careful and more experienced than Dickie ever was. To be honest, I wasn’t surprised when I found out he had wrecked the Mustang. He was never good at navigating those hairpin curves, whereas you’ve never gotten so much as a scratch on your car. I’m fine with you racing as long as you don’t let him behind the wheel again.”
“Well, it’s going to be a while before he’s behind the wheel of anything,” I replied. “He’s learning how to walk again, but it’s slow going.”
When I walked into the garage that morning, I found Dickie sitting in a wheelchair in front of the new Mustang. The hood had been raised, and the smell of car exhaust mingled with the damp scent of the morning breeze. On the counter stood a gift basket and a small bottle of champagne with a chrome balloon attached.
“Where did you find all these admirers?” I asked. “You’re really milking this whole wheelchair thing, aren’t you?”
Dickie smiled a shrewd smile. “Is that any way to treat a poor cripple?”
“How’s the car coming?”
“I’m actually just about done here,” he said, rolling back a few paces. “You’ll need to take it out for a run before we can be really sure, but I think that ought to get you through tomorrow night.”
“You sure you don’t want to come with me?”
Dickie shook his head. He had been reluctant to use racecars even as a passenger ever since the accident. Privately, he had informed me that sometimes he still dreamed about the wreck, and awoke with the smell of smoke and singed hair in his nostrils.
“I wouldn’t want to slow you down,” he said. “I’ll just watch from the garage, and you can tell me how it compares to the last car. In the meantime, now that this one is just about finished, I’ll be getting to work on our next project.”
“Anything you need me to run to the store for?”
Dickie smiled knowingly. “No, but I’m sure you’ll be over there again before very long. I’ll let you know if I think of anything.”
He closed the hood and handed me the keys. I took the car out on the road and left the garage in a cloud of dust. The whole time, I kept thinking about what Penny had said—about how happiness is fleeting and maybe some things are too good to last. There were moments when I wondered if she was right.
But there was no reason she had to be. Penny’s perspective was a darkly fatalistic one steeped in cynicism, the overflow of a gloomy mind. Yes, I had a job that I loved and a girlfriend who loved me. But who was to say this was the pinnacle of happiness? Maybe my life hadn’t peaked yet. Maybe it was just getting started.