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Blind Kiss

Page 16

by Carlino, Renée


  “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.

  “Yes, Frank. It’s all true.”

  “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?

  24. Three Months Ago

  PENNY

  My husband was practically screaming and crying in our front yard.

  “What the hell’s going on, Lance?”

  “Milo said you had a great time with Gavin today. The three of you. How do you think that makes me feel, Penny?”
<
br />   “We’ve been married for fourteen years. Why do you need me to reassure you all the time?”

  “I can’t take this anymore. I’ve always been second fiddle to him.”

  “Then why don’t you leave?” I started to cry.

  “Is it that easy for you?”

  “No, it’s not. It’s never been easy, Lance. Never. I’m sick of being caught between you two.”

  “You want to teach your son that it’s okay for his wife to cavort with other men?”

  “Cavort? Are you kidding me?” I was almost speechless. “I’m not cavorting with Gavin!”

  The unmistakable roar of Gavin’s car coming to life echoed down the street. Lance and I stood there frozen, glaring at each other.

  “He’ll never be out of our lives, will he?”

  “Why would you want him to be?”

  “Because you’re my wife. The mother of my child.”

  The labels killed me. “You don’t own me and you don’t own Milo. And Gavin has nothing to do with the fact that you and I are married and have a child.”

  I was seething. I hated that he was trying to control me with guilt and shame. He’d been doing this off and on for our entire marriage, but lately, it had been getting worse.

  Lance started doing fitness competitions ten years ago. He called it a hobby, but I knew it was some misguided attempt to seem more macho—especially after our many fruitless attempts to have another kid. I think he needed a testosterone boost just to prove to himself that he wasn’t the reason we couldn’t get pregnant, but this came with a major downside: he was always moody, and sometimes his temper was completely out of control.

  I had asked Lance once if he was unhappy because we were basically kids, with a kid, when we got married. He’d said, “No. It’s because you weren’t ready.” No matter how much I tried to convince him that this marriage, and Milo, was my choice, I knew a part of him didn’t believe me—and never would. And because of that, Lance’s own happiness waxed and waned over the years.

  We were still glaring at each other as Gavin drove slowly toward our house.

  “And here he comes. The fucking interloper. Tell him to get his own wife and kid.”

  “I’m not just your wife, Lance. And I’m not just Milo’s mother. I’m Penny. I’m a fucking person.”

  Gavin pulled up to the curb, turned the engine off, and stepped out of the car.

  “Lance?” He didn’t dare look at me as he calmly approached Lance.

  “Mind your own business, Gavin. I don’t know why you’re here. On my property.”

  “Technically I’m on the sidewalk, so I believe this is city property—”

  “Oh fuck off,” Lance said. I never really heard him talk that way to Gavin, but Gavin was being a smartass.

  Milo came to the open front door. He must have heard the commotion.

  “What’s up, Milo?” Gavin said.

  “ ’sup, G?”

  “Go inside, Milo,” I said.

  “What’s going on out here? It’s so late.”

  “Did you hear your mother?” Lance yelled. “Get back in the house.”

  Milo gave me a scared look before retreating. “Please don’t make a scene on the street, Lance,” I pleaded.

  Lance looked at Gavin, who had his hands shoved deep in his pockets, his arms pressed to his sides. “What are you doing here? I’m trying to have a conversation with my wife.”

  “Come grab a drink with me in town, man,” Gavin said. We could all sense the tension coming off Lance in waves. Gavin was trying to get him away from me . . . trying to protect me. Trying to smooth things over. Trying to help me.

  “Oh, we’re buds now? After all these years of you trying to steal my wife, we’re just gonna grab a friendly beer?”

  Gavin shook his head. “I never wanted to steal your wife. I never wanted Penny in that way.”

  It stung to hear those words. I felt my throat tighten.

  “Really? You expect me to believe that?” Lance said.

  “It’s true,” I told him, though I was barely able to speak. Noticing once again that Gavin and I were on one side of the curb, and Lance on the other, I shook my head at the absurdity. “If I wanted to be with Gavin, I would have been with Gavin fourteen years ago. And vice versa. We were always just friends.”

  I never told Lance about the Blind Kiss study, about me and Gavin sleeping like spoons, tangled up in each other. I never told him how we spilled our guts to each other regularly, how we laughed, how we cried together without judgment or expectation. Was I supposed to destroy a bond I had built with another human to stroke and soothe Lance’s ego? All because Lance and I had sex with an old condom from his wallet in the backseat of his car?

  I never told Gavin the truth about that condom. How my whole life had been decided by one moment of desperation and insecurity. How I didn’t have the courage to be a single mom. How I was too heartbroken and grief-stricken to see through those hazy months after graduation. How I married a man I didn’t love.

  Because it’s true. Though I learned to love Lance in my own way over the years, I didn’t love him while we had awkward and painful sex in the back of his car, my injured knee bumping against the back door. A part of me knew we were being reckless, that an old condom was as good as no condom, but I wanted to be close to someone . . . I needed to be close to someone. And the someone I wanted to be with was with someone else. That grave mistake, that inability to go after the person I really wanted, led to my beautiful child . . . but the guilt haunted me for fourteen years. Guilt that I had never been 100 percent truthful with Lance, with Gavin, or myself. Now life without Milo seemed like death, and after he left for college, I would be caught in purgatory with Lance and Gavin.

  A decade’s worth of secrets and half-truths were crashing down on me as I stood in the cold, facing my husband of fourteen years and standing next to the love of my life. Who was I willing to hurt for more? Who was I willing to hurt more?

  “Why are you here, Gavin? Really?” Lance asked.

  “Because we’re family. All of us.”

  Lance scoffed and looked away.

  “Because I’ve always cared deeply about Penny and her family,” Gavin added, correcting himself. He was not family in Lance’s eyes, and he knew it.

  “What do you want now?” Lance asked.

  “Everyone is hurting. I just want to defuse the situation.”

  “You are the fuse and the fuel, Gavin. Don’t you see that?” Lance said.

  He nodded and then glanced over at me in defeat. I said nothing. I didn’t even look up from the ground. I. Said. Nothing. Gavin was quiet as he got into his car and drove half a block down the road to his father’s house.

  I pushed past Lance, went inside, and headed to Milo’s room. He was pretending to be asleep in his bed.

  “I’m sorry you had to see that, Milo. Trust me, it was just stupid adult crap. Your dad and I are fine,” I told him.

  “What about Uncle G?” he whispered.

  “He’s fine, too.” No one acknowledged the fact that Milo was grieving for Frank as well. We were all too busy being selfish adults.

  “What about you?” he asked.

  The question lingered in the air as I tidied up and closed the blinds. How could he have empathy at such a young age? I went to his bed and kissed his forehead. “I’m always fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”

  He nodded. “I know.”

  My phone buzzed in my pocket as I closed Milo’s bedroom door. I looked at it in the dark hallway.

  Gavin: Are you safe?

  Me: Yes.

  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 th
e 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.

 

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