Chapter Twenty
It was a couple of days later, and Penny had a night at home in between rehearsals. She was in her room reading a magazine when her mother knocked.
“Pen? Could we talk to you for a sec? Maybe in the lounge room?”
Surprised by her mother’s request, Penny nodded, put her magazine down and walked behind her Mum into the cozy lounge room, taking a seat on the couch.
Her mother sat right beside her, and her dad stood awkwardly beside the couch.
“What is this?” asked Pen with a hesitant smile. “Should I be worried?”
Her mother took Penny’s hand and said hesitantly, “We think that… no.” She looked at her husband, who nodded and gave her what Penny thought must have been an encouraging smile. She turned back to Penny. “I think that I owe you an apology.”
“Pardon?”
“With my reaction to your news, Pen. I was a little bit… short with you. And I’m sorry.”
Penny smiled gently at her mother. “I’m sorry too, Mum,” she said. “But I didn’t know how to tell you without upsetting you. Both of you.” She shot a look at her dad, who nodded.
“We want to apologize to you about that, too, Penny,” he said, his face reddening. “We didn’t know. But we should have done more.”
“You thought you were doing the right thing,” replied Penny. “And you thought you were doing what I wanted. It wasn’t your fault.”
“We wanted to apologize anyway, Pen,” her mother said, “for the sadness that you’ve obviously hidden away for years, and for the pain we put you through.” Fat tears rolled down her mother’s face. “I wish we had known. That baby would have been the most spoiled child ever.”
Penny laughed even as her own tears started to fall. “I know right? Just lately I’ve been looking at the teeny, tiny Nike’s that we have in stock and I think, ‘My baby would so have worn those.’”
“Your baby,” her mother replied softly, before sweeping Penny into hug. “I’m so, so sorry,” she sobbed. “Can you ever forgive us?”
“Mum, really? I’ve never blamed you. Not really. You guys always did what you thought was right.” She felt her dad’s comforting hand on her back and realised he had dropped to his knees and embraced them both.
“But the pain you’ve been in. For all these years.”
“Not to worry,” replied Penny cheerfully. “It’s been suppressed for most of those years.”
“Penny.” Her mother pulled out of the group hug and slapped Penny playfully on the arm, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand.
They sat silently, Penny thinking about what else she wanted to say to her parents, now that they had come around. It was just like Dr. Johnson had said. All Penny had to do was wait.
“Did you ever give the baby a name?” Her mum asked, breaking into her thoughts. Penny shook her head.
“I didn’t know if it was a boy or a girl,” she replied, “so I didn’t. I had boy and girl names picked out, though.”
“It was a girl,” her mum said in a quiet voice.
“Could you tell? That early on?”
“You can, but we didn’t see. I just knew it somehow.”
“A girl,” mused Penny. She liked the thought of knowing she had a little girl, even if her mother’s intuition was the only indication of it. “Then she would have been Elodie.”
“Elodie,” her mother murmured, her lips curving into a smile. “What a beautiful name.”
Penny licked her dry lips. She wanted to ask her parents to do something for her, for the baby. It was a little bit left-of-center, and she wasn’t sure what her Mum would think about it, but she felt it was something she needed to do. She took a deep breath and plunged into her request.
“Can I ask you guys to organize something for me?”
“Are you sure?” Her dad said with a smile. “We seem to be really good at messing stuff up.”
“I don’t think you’d be able to mess this up,” replied Penny, grinning back at him. “I want to have a kind of little memorial for her.”
“A memorial?” Her mum seemed dubious, and Penny immediately withdrew. “I mean, if it’s okay with you, that is. Do you think it’s a good idea?”
“Penny.” Her dad took her hands in between his big, weathered paws. “We think it’s a good idea.” He hugged Penny tightly. “Just tell us when and where, and we’ll take care of the rest.”
“Thank you.”
“And Pen?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s good that you’re coming out of your shell a bit. You know, asserting yourself. We’re proud of you.” Her dad was flushing, unused to giving compliments. He was a plain-speaking council worker. Gruff and tough and blokey. Penny knew that it took quite a bit of effort for him to say what he was saying.
She smiled and gave him a hug. “Thanks Dad. I’ve been practicing my assertion techniques.” Her Dad nodded.
“Well, it’s good. Keep it up.”
Once again, the three of them hugged, and Penny couldn’t have been happier. Her family was back together.
“And a skinny latte for you, my lady,” said Lydia, placing the tall glass in front of Penny with a flourish, before she sat down beside her with a sigh. “It’s been a long week,” she groaned.
“And it’s only Wednesday,” supplied Desiree.
“Wednesday night,” replied Lydia. “That makes it almost Thursday.”
“Which means tomorrow is almost the day before the weekend!” said Penny with a smile.
“Not sure why you’d care,” retorted Desiree. “You work on the weekend.”
“So do you,” replied Penny. “You spend half of your weekends marking.”
“True,” conceded Desiree. “But I get loads of holidays.”
“About two-thirds of which you are either marking or drawing up the plans for the next year’s curriculum,” said Lydia.
“You know what?” said Desiree. “My job actually sucks.”
All three of them laughed, then Desiree continued, “But not as much as Pen’s job.”
“Hey! I happen to like my job.”
Lydia turned her body toward Penny. “Did you think about getting a new job, Pen? Like we talked about?”
Penny smiled, even though her heart flip-flopped a little. It was time for the new, self-assured Penny to speak up.
“I thought about it, and then I said no. I love my job. I don’t want to leave it. I’m so happy there, and contented, and I can’t imagine a better place to work.”
“Really? Even with Jim leaving and bringing in a manager?”
Penny nodded. “Whenever Jim’s not there, I’m standing in anyway, so I get to do my little bit of managing. I can’t imagine that would change too much.”
“But what about using your degree? Going for a more skilled job?”
She gently shook her head, still smiling at her friends. “I wouldn’t want the stress. Can you imagine me in a clinical situation? Really? No, I’m happy where I am.” She took a breath. “So quit trying to talk me out of there.”
Lydia sat back. “Did you just… assert yourself?” She turned to Desiree with an exaggerated look of surprise on her face. “Did she just assert herself?”
“Maybe,” replied Desiree. “I’m not sure I heard it properly.” She turned to Penny. “Did you just tell us to back off and mind our own business?”
“Well, not in those exact words, but yes. Yes, I did.”
Lydia clasped her hands together. “Our little girl is growing up,” she said to Desiree.
“Stop it you guys.”
“I’m getting all teary.”
“Seriously, Lydia, quit it.”
Suddenly, Lydia turned to Penny, a smile on her face. “Good for you, Pen. I’m so proud of you.”
Penny’s smile tightened, and the thumping of her heart increased. Here was the opening she had been waiting for.
“I have something else I have to tell you guys as well,” Penny said, “only I warn you, you’re not going to like it one bit.”
“Why not?” asked Desiree, leaning forward.
“Because I’ve kind of been lying to you both for years.”
“Lying to us?” One of Desiree’s fine dark brows flew up.
“Yes.”
“Okay,” said Lydia, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest. “What did you lie to us about?”
Penny inhaled, then slowly blew out the air through pursed lips before launching into her story.
“Do you remember those holidays when I wasn’t around much, and I said I’d gone to my grandmother’s? It was the holidays before Year Twelve.”
“Not particularly,” replied Desiree with a dismissive head shake. “What about them?”
“I didn’t go to my grandmother’s. I got an abortion.”
While her friends looked on with mouths agape, Penny explained the whole story. By the time she was finished, their coffees were cold.
Desiree looked down at them. “I think we need a refill,” she said. “I know I do.” She levered herself out of the low couch and went to the counter.
Lydia and Penny sat silently side by side on their couch. Penny gave an uncomfortable laugh.
“Say something, Lydia,” she said. “What do you think?”
To Penny’s shock, Lydia started to cry.
“Lyddie? Honey, I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s not you,” said Lydia through her tears. “I’m just thinking back on that time, and I realise I didn’t think about you at all those school holidays. Then you told us you’d been to your grandmother’s and I didn’t want to talk about that, only about my own holidays. I thought going to grandmas sounded like the most boring holiday in the world.” Her voice broke on a sob. “Why didn’t you tell us what was going on?”
Penny shrugged. “It was all over and done with. I didn’t want to bother you with it.”
“It was not all over and done with,” replied Lydia, a catch in her voice. “And you could have used the shoulder to cry on.”
“I just wanted it all to blow over,” explained Penny. “You know, we had Year Twelve and it was so stressful all by itself, I didn’t want to worry you guys.”
“So instead you bottled it all up? For the next thirteen years?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
Desiree returned with three steaming coffees. Over the years, they had all become adept at carrying all three coffees at once.
“You know what I think?” she said, as she carefully deposited the glasses on the table.
“What do you think?” Penny said the words lightly, however her stomach dropped. Desiree would not hold back from expressing her opinion, no matter how hard it would be for Penny to take.
“I think you’re an idiot.”
Penny barked a short laugh. “Okay,” she said.
“No, really. You’re an idiot.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because you had all these people around you who love you and want the absolute best for you, but you let your stupid pride and pretend humility stop you from letting us help you.”
Penny sat back, quick tears forming in her eyes. “You’re right, Des,” she said with a shaky voice. “Brutal, but right. I should have told you.”
“Bloody right you should have told us,” snapped back Desiree. “I can’t believe you’ve been sitting on this for so many years. It’s a wonder how you managed to stay sane for this long.”
A laugh escaped Penny’s lips. “Who says I have?” She retorted with a smile that fell from her face as she continued, “I am sorry, guys. I really am. You’re my best friends in the whole world, and I kept my biggest secret from you.”
“You’re sorry?” Interrupted Desiree. “Are you kidding? We’re sorry. For not being there for you. For not understanding the change in you. Can you remember, Lyddie? When we came back to Year Twelve? She was different. Quieter, more passive.”
“I remember,” said Lydia with a nod. “We talked about that, but then it kind of slipped away.”
“There was lots to think about that year.” Penny slid into her usual conciliatory role. “My personality change wasn’t that important.”
“Stop it,” said Lydia. “Pen, just stop. Listen to yourself. You are as important as anyone. We should have done something.”
Old Penny would have demurred, insisting that the strains and stresses of Year Twelve were enough to push everything out of her friend’s heads. But she knew they didn’t want to hear that. And she knew it was old Penny, working the guilt angle. What was is Pam had taught her? Acknowledge and move forward.
“You’re right, Lyddie. I am as important as you.” The words didn’t roll easily off her tongue, but she persevered. “And perhaps you should have done something. But we can’t live in the past. Maybe you can do something for me now?”
“Anything,” was Lydia’s reply, but alongside that, Penny heard Desiree’s suspicious, “What something?” And she had to smile.
“I’m having a naming ceremony for the baby on the weekend. Kind of a memorial and a sendoff.”
“We’ll be there,” confirmed Desiree, and Lydia nodded. Penny’s smile widened. All three of them were so different. Yet, when they were together, things just clicked. It was awesome.