Magnificent Bastard

by Lili Valente

  I would just hate to see someone I care about, who I know is a kind, wonderful man, who also clearly needs people, spend the rest of his life in a series of superficial relationships and wonder why, when he’s on his deathbed, his assistant is the only one who sends flowers.

  Though I will. Send flowers. And hold your hand. And anything else you need.

  Because you are worthy of that kind of loyalty and much more.

  I just hope you know that.

  The end.

  Bash: That was the longest text ever.

  But thank you.

  If I’m on my deathbed, there’s no hand I would rather hold.

  And at least, that way I would get to meet you in person. :P

  Penny: farting starfish emoji

  Bash: That’s my favorite one yet.

  Night Penny.

  And…thank you. Really.

  Penny: Good night, Bash. You’re welcome.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  By the time I get back to the cottage an hour later—after a drive around Southampton that does very little to illuminate why I’ve suddenly gone full-on caveman—Penny is gone.

  But there’s a note on the kitchen counter—

  Bash,

  The girls called and wanted me to meet them at the beach for a walk and some shell collecting. They were so pitiful I couldn’t say no.

  I took one of the winery’s bikes and headed over to Sandcastles Park. I’ll bike back in an hour or two.

  Call me if there’s anything you want me to pick up on the way.

  Excited to see what flavors you chose!

  Xo

  Penny

  Simultaneously disappointed and relieved—maybe enlightenment will come while I’m sitting on the porch alone eating ice cream—I resign myself to an afternoon of high fat intake and a pile of Men’s Health magazines I haven’t had the time to read.

  The hours crawl by and Penny’s return time comes and goes with no sign of her. I go for a run, work my way through my trainer’s most grueling series of circuits using a pair of wrought iron turtles I steal from the cottage’s front garden as weights, and then undo all my good work by eating a second pint of chocolate covered cherry fudge dream for my evening meal. Huddling in my sweat-damp shirt, I spoon my dinner while watching the light fade until the tree limbs behind the cottage are shadowy fingers straining toward a sky they’ll never touch. With every hour that passes without Penny’s smile, her smell, her body warm and within potential-fucking distance, I grow increasingly depressed.

  By six thirty, when I step out of the shower to find a text saying that she’s agreed to sleep over in a tent in her mother’s backyard tonight, I’m feeling low enough to text back a petulant—

  But what about Phillip?

  Aren’t you worried he’ll see you there and assume there’s trouble in paradise? Why would a woman as “in love” as you are want to spend the night camping with two eight-year-olds, instead of at home with her sexy almost-fiancé?

  Penny: Phillip and Mom are out having dinner with friends. They don’t even know I’m here and we’ll be asleep by the time they get back. Nanny Helms has promised to keep the overnight a secret and help me sneak my bike out of the golf cart garage in the morning.

  I think it’s important that I stay.

  I don’t know if it’s the wedding or the fact that they haven’t seen me in a few weeks, but the girls are being pretty clingy. I think they need a night where I put them first. A little spoiling from their big sister, you know?

  But I’m sorry to leave you there alone with all that ice cream.

  Forgive me?

  Frowning, I text back, Of course. Nothing to forgive. Tell the girls hello for me. Hope you all have a wonderful time.

  And I do. I hope they have a wonderful time.

  Without me. While I sit here alone, wondering if Penny is really doing this for the girls or because I ran like a fucking coward the moment things between us got heavy.

  I spend the night tossing and turning in sheets that smell of Penny and wake up determined to un-fuck things.

  I still don’t know why I’m running hot and cold or what it means that I’m dying to get a woman pregnant after years of dreading that outcome with the same fervor I dread a case of chlamydia or the inevitable rise of a super-flu that will turn New York City into a snotty breeding ground for death, but I know I don’t want to spend another of what might be my few remaining nights with Penny alone.

  When my phone dings at eight fifteen and a text pops up from Penny asking if I want to meet for brunch at the Fiddling Crabs, I can’t text back—hell yes, I’m starving—fast enough.

  I type the address into my phone, promise to meet Penny there at nine and practically sprint to the shower. Thirty-five minutes later, I’m clean, wearing a Hamptons-approved uniform of khaki shorts and a designer blue polo and swinging into the Fiddling Crabs to learn that Penny, and guests, have already been seated at a table for five near the windows.

  Francis and Eddie wave enthusiastically as I cross the restaurant while an older woman with her gray hair pulled into a braid seated next to Penny—Nanny Helms, I presume—glares at me like I just farted in church. For her part, Penny looks happy but tired, and…guarded.

  Her gaze, as she lifts a hand in greeting, is warm but not too warm, and my hunch that she was using the twins as an excuse to avoid spending the night with me is confirmed. I am in the doghouse and likely to stay there until I do something to make up for making love and then making tracks.

  With so many witnesses, there won’t be a chance to apologize during brunch, but at least, I’m being offered a foot in the door to Penny’s good graces.

  Determined to make the most of it, I force a big grin for the table at large.

  “Hello, ladies.” I lean down to peck Penny gently on the cheek, hoping she can feel the “let’s make up” vibe in my kiss. “I’m not sure what I did to earn four beautiful dates for breakfast, but I’ll take it.”

  Nanny Helm’s lips prune in response, Francis rolls her eyes, and Eddie laughs and says, “You sound like our dad. He’s sooooo cheesy.”

  “Oh hush,” Penny says as I slide into the seat beside her. “Daddy Frank is the sweetest man in the world.”

  “I know.” Francis nods, sending her brown ponytail bouncing. “But he’s also cheesy. You should see him with Kate. All they do is make melty, gooey eyes at each other all day long.”

  “And say gross love stuff.” Eddie crosses her eyes and sticks out her tongue.

  “The girls’ dad remarried last year,” Penny offers for my benefit. “Kate is their new stepmom, who is also very sweet. They spend holidays with them in L.A. Now stop that!” She reaches out, ruffling Eddie’s hair until her little sister uncrosses her eyes. “Your face will stick that way and then you’ll be sorry you made fun of people who are in love.”

  “Gross.” Francis wrinkles her nose. “I’m never going to fall in love. I’m going to become a botanist and study the Amazonian rain forest.”

  “If it isn’t deforested by the time you’re grown,” Nanny Helms says in a voice as dour as her somber face. “Current projections aren’t good. Conservation efforts aren’t as aggressive as they should be.”

  “That’s why I don’t eat meat,” Francis said, picking up her menu. “Cattle ranching is the number one cause of deforestation.”

  Eddie casts a mournful glance my way. “I like meat, but we hardly ever have it. It’s all fish all the time. Or quinoa.”

  “Or egg white omelets,” Francis says with a heavy sigh. “I’m going to turn into an egg white if I have to eat anymore. Can’t we have pancakes, Nanny? Just this once?”

  “Your mother said no sugar today. Not if you want cake at the wedding.” Nanny Helms sniffs critically though I’m not sure if it’s Anastasia’s no-sugar policy or the girls’ whines in response to her announcement that displeases her.

  Probably both. She seems like a person who is displeased by a number of things.


  From there, the discussion turns to what the girls are allowed to have for breakfast, whether or not they’re too old to be forced to order from the children’s menu, and what to do with the rest of the day.

  By the time my coffee and OJ are delivered, it’s become clear that Penny has promised herself to the twins until the bachelorette party tonight. Which means odds of a proper reconciliation between Penny and me, the kind that involves her coming on my cock multiple times while I assure her I’ll never fuck and dash again, look less than promising.

  I’m going to have to take my opportunity to apologize where I can get it.

  So when Penny gets up to use the restroom halfway through the meal, I wait a few moments and follow, lurking in wait behind a wooden statue of two fiddling crabs in the hallway outside the ladies’ room until she emerges.

  “Hey.” I slide from my hiding place, startling Penny enough to make her jump.

  “Oh my God.” Her hand flies to her chest with a breathy laugh. “You scared me. What were you doing back there?”

  “Lurking,” I say, with a reconciliatory smile. “I was hoping for a private moment to say I’m sorry.”

  Her brow furrows as she blinks up at me. “For what?”

  “For yesterday.” I angle my body closer to the wall as a pack of giggling pre-teen girls smelling of sunscreen and strawberry bubblegum surge past us toward the bathroom.

  Penny shifts out of the way, too, casting a glance over my shoulder toward our table as we move. “Yesterday? Yesterday was great.” Her attention returns to me with a puzzled smile. “Wasn’t it?”

  “Well, yeah. Yes. It was.” I press my lips together and rub them side to side as I study Penny’s face, looking for signs that she’s hiding her feelings. But her smile is warm and transparent.

  Could I have been reading angst into a situation where none exists?

  At least on her side?

  “But, well, I—” I break off with a nervous laugh. “I mean, after the—”

  “If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me,” she cuts in, tugging the elastic from her hair and smoothing it back into a fresh floppy bun.

  I realize I’ve grown fond of that bun. I love her hair long and loose, but there’s something artlessly elegant about all that hair piled into a silky nest atop her head. And it bares her neck. Her beautiful, sweet-smelling neck that I could be kissing right now if I had stayed put after taking her against the wall.

  “I feel terrible about leaving you on your own,” she continues. “If it makes you feel any better, my air mattress deflated sometime during the night and I woke up freezing with my back so sore I could barely move. Eddie had to push me into a seated position and Francis decided I’m old before my time and need to take up Tai Chi or Hatha Yoga or some kind of ‘old person’s exercise.’ Her words.”

  “She’s a character,” I say, laughing. “But no, that doesn’t make me feel better.” I tuck a lock of hair she’s missed behind her ear, grateful for the excuse to touch her. “I could give you a massage later if we sneak away from the rest of the group a little early. I’m pretty good with my hands.”

  “I know you are,” she says, eyes twinkling. “And you’re sweet. But I promised the girls they could have me until I need to run back to the cottage to get dressed.” Her forehead wrinkles. “I know they can be a little obnoxious, but they’re my sisters and in a few weeks, I won’t see them much. They’ll be at their dad’s house for the entire summer this year.”

  “Okay. Sure. Sounds great.” I nod with more enthusiasm than I feel. “Then group fun day it is.”

  “Great,” she says, beaming. “Thank you.”

  She leans in for a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. The kiss is nice, but it’s not the kind of kiss I want and it’s over way too soon. Before I can get my arms all the way around her, she has already pulled away.

  “Just embrace the crazy and you’ll have a great time.” She turns to go, but stops and spins back to me, adding beneath her breath, “And ignore Nanny Helms. She’s always like this when she meets someone new. It’s not personal. She’ll warm up to you. By the end of the day, she’ll be offering to mend your socks and telling you all her favorite fart jokes.”

  I arch a wry brow. “Well, you know how much I love socks. And fart jokes.”

  Penny’s eyes narrow as she shakes her head. “Oh, don’t even try. Don’t even try to play it cool with me, Prince. I know better. My farting emoji collection was one-fifth the size before I met you.”

  I grin. “I’m a bad influence.”

  “Clearly,” she says, lips quirking.

  My throat goes tight. I want to say something about there being a difference between being a fun kind of bad influence and the sort of man who runs from his feelings. Even if she’s fine with the way things went down yesterday, I want her to know that I know that I fucked up.

  And that I don’t plan on fucking up again.

  But before I can find the words, she reaches out and loops her arm through mine.

  “Come on.” She takes off across the faded carpet, leading the way back to our table. “We should finish up and take care of the check. We’ve got an appointment with a seamstress to measure the girls’ dolls for custom clothes in twenty minutes. Then we’re heading to a princess party at the new toy store and finishing up the girl-fest by getting our nails done.”

  I swallow hard. “Sounds great.”

  “You don’t have to come.” Penny chuckles. “If you fear that much exposure to the color pink, I completely understand.”

  “I fear nothing,” I say, “except spending the day without you.”

  Penny stumbles, but I shift my grip on her arm, catching her before she falls. Once she’s recovered her feet, she lifts her gaze to mine, studying me through narrowed eyes.

  “What?” I ask, clearing my throat.

  She shakes her head. “Nothing. I just…” Her tongue slips out to dampen her lips as she shakes her head again. “Just hope I won’t end up tripping all over myself at the party tonight. I’m such a klutz when I’m tired.”

  “I could come with you. Ditch the stag party. I have no urge to hang out with Phillip and after all the exposure to estrogen today, I’ll be mostly girl anyway.”

  She smiles. “You’ll never be mostly girl. And thank you, but—”

  “Penny!” Eddie appears at her elbow. “Hurry up and finish your bagel or we’re going to be late.”

  “But I’ll be fine,” Penny finishes before letting Eddie tow her away.

  The rest of the day passes in a blur of little-girl-centered activities that are unexpectedly…pleasant.

  Francis and Eddie are fun kids and the princess party features a pretty cutthroat cell-phone-photograph scavenger hunt. After years of undergrad scavenger hunts through the city, I’ve got the skills to lead our team to an easy victory over the competition, earning the twins a twenty-dollar gift certificate to their favorite bookstore and me honorary uncle status. Afterward, I sit between them at the nail salon and let them each pick out a color for me—Eddie on the left hand, Francis on the right. They choose pink with white hibiscus flowers and black with red skulls and giggle pretty much constantly while I’m getting manicured and Nanny Helms looks on with a healthy dose of judgment.

  Despite Penny’s promises, the older woman hasn’t warmed up to me, but I don’t care. Penny’s smile as she sits at the pedicure station, watching Francis, Eddie, and me gossip while we get our nails done is worth every minute it will take me to get the nail polish off before the bachelor party.

  And as we leave the salon, when she wraps her arm around my waist and says, “Thank you, Uncle Bash. They had an amazing time,” I realize that I had an amazing time, too.

  Sharing Penny is almost as much fun as having Penny all to myself. It’s like watching a baseball game at the stadium instead of at home alone. Sometimes it’s nice to share your passion and enthusiasm for something you love with people who get where you’re coming from.

  Som
ething you love…

  As Penny and I say our goodbyes and start back to the cottage, the words haunt me. We’re quiet on the drive. I don’t know what Penny’s thinking, but I’m thinking about that piece-of-forever feeling that almost brought me to my knees while I was buried inside her yesterday.

  It isn’t what I felt back when Rachael and I were together, but Penny isn’t Rachael. She’s sweeter, deeper, and she just…gets me. With Penny, I never have to explain why I find something funny or hide my soft underbelly. Rachael wanted all alpha male all the time, but Penny accepts me for who I am, whether I’m taking control in the bedroom or making dumb jokes or getting my fingernails painted with her little sisters.

  That means something. It means a lot and I intend to pay very close attention to the way I feel the next time I’m making love to this woman.

  Hopefully, in the very near future…

  As soon as we shut the door to the cottage behind us, I reach for her, pulling her close. She comes to me, but instead of wrapping her arms around my neck, she presses her palms flat against my chest, holding me at a distance.

  “We don’t have time for this,” she whispers.

  “I realize I’ve impressed you with my staying power, Miss Pickett, but I am capable of pulling off a quickie.” I press a kiss to her throat, where her pulse is already beating faster. “And don’t worry. You’ll still come at least twice.”

  “I’m not worried,” she says, sounding worried. “But I promised my mother I wouldn’t be late. I’m helping set up the party games.”

  I pull back, studying her face. Her gaze is on the clock above the stove and her thoughts apparently far from me, but still I ask, “Is everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine,” she says, lips curving in a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Just have a lot on my mind.”

  “Like what? You should tell me.” I cup her cheek in my hand, fingers dipping into her soft hair. “Then I can have it on my mind and free up more room in yours.”

  “I don’t think it works that way, Sebastian.” It’s the first time she’s said my full name in a while and I find I don’t like the sound of it on her lips. It sounds formal, distant, like she’s pushing me away with a word.