by Jess Bentley
She opens the closet door and stands behind it demurely, but my dick knows that she is undressing. I fold my hands over my crotch, shoving my dick out of the way so it doesn’t manage to poke out of the fly. That would just be perfect.
“Well… Account manager? But it’s a start. It’s a good job. I’m excited.”
She sweeps out from behind the closet door in a blue T-shirt and cutoff shorts that expose the bottom of her derrière when she leans over to hunt for her tennis shoes behind the nightstand. Why are they behind the nightstand? No one will ever know. That’s just part of the mystery of Penny.
“That’s amazing,” I agree grudgingly. “So you’re leaving. At the end of the semester. In the middle of winter.”
She pulls out the shoes and bounces on the edge of the rumpled bedsheets to slip one onto her bare foot.
“You’ll find a new roommate in a heartbeat,” she assures me. “Actually, why don’t you start posting signs now? Get ahead of the rush. Or even start sending out resumes? If it worked for me it is certainly going to work for you, Mr. 4.0.”
“Yeah… I suppose it could all work out for me too,” I answer distractedly. I’m not convinced, but it seems like the right thing to say.
She stands up from the bed and walks over to me carefully, slipping her fingers into my hands and staring up into my face. It’s hard to look at her right now.
“Of course it’s all going to work out for you,” she murmurs gently. “You’re amazing. One in a million, Clay. That’s why we should have a pact.”
“A pact.”
“Right! Like… in fifteen years, if we don’t find our perfect true love, we will find each other.”
“In fifteen years? Who knows where we are going to be?”
She widens her eyes dramatically. “Right? You could be in Japan. I could be the queen of Czechoslovakia. The future is limitless.”
“Limitless, but… lonely? Is that what you are telling me?”
She shrugs. “Well, maybe not! Maybe we will both find absolute fairytale endings with 2.5 kids and assorted pets and supermodel spouses and all that.”
“Okay, I like supermodels,” I admit.
“Or, maybe not!” she continues dramatically. “Maybe our lives are a string of disappointments that plunge us into unrelenting despair.”
“Jesus.”
“So if we have unrelenting despair, in fifteen years, we will look each other up. Deal?”
I shake my head helplessly. “How can I disagree if you’re offering me a way out of my future unrelenting despair?”
She nods sweetly. “Yeah… When we’re old and just about to give up, we will have each other. You’re my emergency parachute.”
“Well, despite the mishmash of metaphors, I guess it sounds like a plan,” I shrug.
Grinning wildly, she flings her arms around my shoulders and hoists herself up to kiss me on the cheek. As she slides back down my body, she has to feel my hard-on, but she just pretends she doesn’t, I guess. She skips out of the room, picking up a laundry basket on the way. Just before she leaves, she leans back and winks at me.
“I’m so glad we got this,” she smiles earnestly. “I can’t think of a better plan, Clay. I really can’t.”
“Happy to be of service,” I joke, pointing a finger gun at her for no reason other than it’s another pointless macho gesture. “In the future, I mean. Maybe. Happy to be hypothetical escape hatch in a hypothetical future of despair.”
After the front door closes, I look around and fight the urge to clean up after her. Somehow, she took a basket of clothes out to head toward the laundry room but there are still clothes everywhere. The kitchen is still in disarray. The living room could use a vacuum.
Maybe later. I’ll get to it later.
Chapter 6
Penny
Present Day - Fifteen Years Later…
As the presentation video comes to a close, I look around the room at each of the investors’ faces. They’re definitely engaged in what I put together, but I don’t know if see that committed fire, that confidence to really buy into what I’m selling.
In the last few seconds I stand and position myself in front of the screen, signaling to the intern with my eyes to turn up the lights in the room. Gradually all the faces turn toward me and I smile with all my heart, turning the charm on full blast.
“You know what, Penny, I just have a question before you get started,” my boss, Nathan, interrupts.
I shoot him a venomous glare. He says he does this sort of thing on purpose, to really test my ability to think on my feet. But after fifteen years at this company, I am completely over it. He just likes to belittle me in front of a crowd. I can tell that the lead investor, Corrine, sees it too. She shoots me a challenging look like, are you really going to tolerate that? Then she crosses her arms and looks at him like, this had better be good.
Not completely clueless, Nathan clears his throat when he feels the chill settle over him. “Just a small detail… Are you completely sourced for the solar panels? I’m pretty sure most manufacturers are backed up for—”
“—yeah, okay,” Corinne interrupts, swiveling in her chair to face me and cutting him off completely.
A tiny chorus of cheerleaders does The Wave inside my heart.
“Yes, of course I’m sourced,” I smile gamely.
She gives me a subtle wink. “I’m sure you are,” she sighs before continuing. “My only concern at this point is that the typical homebuyer for this sort of project is going to be a high-earning younger person, a commuter. There is not a rail line into New York within twenty minutes, is there?”
“Oh!” I answer, somewhat taken aback as I shuffle through my supplementary materials binder. “If I remember correctly, there is a extension planned for twenty-four months out, which would put us—”
“Right at peak buyers’ market,” Nathan finishes for me, infuriatingly, though I know for certain he’s not even aware of any rail extension. I just got the memo two days ago as a matter of fact.
“All right, well, that’s good to know,” Corinne continues tersely, refusing to even glance at Nathan at this point. “So… I guess we’re good here. Can you have final numbers by next week? I’ll get it to the board and get you a decision by the following Monday.”
I plaster a smile on my face, hoping to conceal the frantic, jubilant explosion that’s happening inside me. Corrine doesn’t seem to be fooled. She raises just the outside of her perfectly arched eyebrows and purses her lips almost imperceptibly. I’m fairly certain that would be a real smile on a less surgically perfected face.
Everybody stands up, shaking hands and beginning small talk as they start to file out of the conference room. Nathan starts clapping people on the shoulder, blissfully unaware of how uncomfortable he’s making them. It must be so wonderful to be a man sometimes. If I ran around assaulting strangers, they’d probably lock me up.
Corrine approaches, extending her hand. I shake it gratefully, beyond pleased.
“That really was an outstanding presentation,” she says in a low, confidential voice. “So much of what people show us takes absolutely no risks at all. It’s refreshing to see something so brazenly new. Is this all your work?”
“All my work?” I repeat stupidly, then immediately curse myself for not having a more elegant answer to offer.
“The green spaces, the recycled materials, the energy surplus… That’s you? You seemed to speak with such passion about it.”
“Oh, yes!” I nod avidly. “I’ve just been dying for development like this, to be perfectly honest. Not every location has the possibility of a wind farm and solar. I really got to stretch my wings on this one.”
She smiles, warmly, I think. Actually, her face barely moves, but I can see it in her eyes.
“I am really looking forward to working together,” she nods. “We’ll be seeing each other soon.”
“Penny is one of our rising stars!” Nathan barks, making Corinne harden immediate
ly. “She does really good work. Thanks for coming by, Corrine!”
My mouth just pops open in disbelief as Corinne and the rest of the investors leave the room. Nathan stands there are all puffed up and proud, rocking back and forth like an old-timey, small-town mayor.
“What? What’s wrong with you?” He scowls when he sees my face.
“A rising star, Nathan? Are you kidding me? After fifteen years?”
“Well, yeah…” He shrugs uncomfortably. “Keep this up and you’ll have your own project one of these days.”
My stomach drops. “Wait… This is my project, Nathan. This is it. This is me. What are you talking about?”
He grimaces and raises his hands in the air in a dramatic, exaggerated shrug.
“Is it, though? I mean, this is the big time. I think I should take this one, okay? I don’t want to lose these investors.”
“Lose the… what? We’re not losing anything! I got them! They are coming with us!”
Nathan claps his hand on my shoulder, squeezing and jostling me back and forth as he simultaneously aims me toward the door.
“Next time, kid, I promise.” He sighs as though the decision is beyond his control, out of his hands, already etched in stone. “Maybe you can head up a cul-de-sac or something, sort of toward the end. Phase 4 or something. How would you like that?”
My mouth opens and closes helplessly, but I do manage to twist away from his clammy manhandling. I know anything I say will bounce back to me three- or fourfold, and not in a good way. If I object, I’m being hysterical. If I say nothing, I’m being a wimp and reaffirming his instincts about me.
I thought that putting together a killer presentation was going to be my winning move, but now it seems like I just basically did all his homework for him. He’s going to take the win, and not even remember how he got there.
“It’s Friday. Why don’t you cut out early?” he suggests gamely. “The materials guys are going for margaritas. I could really use one, but the wife… You know how it is. Why don’t you have one for me? Take the company card.”
Some bribe, I think sourly. I mean, I’m totally going to do it, but it’s a pretty weak payoff.
When I get back to my cube, my cell phone is all lit up and turning in a half circle as it vibrates. I thumb the face to connect the call and turn away from Nathan, happy to have a way out.
“Wanda? Hey, what’s up?”
“Jesus, I’ve been trying to get you for hours. Where have you been?”
I look around the fluorescently-brilliant room, gesturing helplessly at something Wanda can’t even see.
“Where have I been? At work? Where I always am?”
Her voice is distracted and brittle. I think she’s driving. I’m on speakerphone.
“Oh… Fuck, right. Well, the school called me.”
Automatically I open my bottom drawer and yank out my handbag.
“I’m on my way,” I answer as I stride toward the elevator. “Seriously, I can be there in twenty minutes.”
“I’m already here,” she snaps back. “I’ll meet you at your place. I’m sure he’s fine. Don’t worry.”
“How can I not worry?” I ask as I mash the elevator button with my thumb over and over again. “Did they say what’s up? Is he okay?”
“Penny, if he wasn’t okay they would’ve called an ambulance. They only called me because they couldn’t reach you. He’s fine. I’ll bring him home. I’m already here. Bye.”
I stare at my phone as the call disconnects. The elevator doors slide open and I barely register anything as I plummet to the parking garage, get in my car, and drive home like a crazy person. Everything slips by like a dream. When I rush into the front door, flinging my purse and keys on the small hall table, I see them both waiting for me under the task lighting in the kitchen. Wanda steps away reflexively. Ethan just shakes his head and looks down, holding a bag of frozen peas to his forehead.
“What is this??” I ask frantically, my hands reaching out to the compress.
I want to see what’s underneath, and also I don’t want to see. Ethan gives me a stony look as I peel back the plastic and stare, horrified, at the egg-shaped, purple welt on his forehead.
“You’re taking this well, I see,” Wanda snarks as she uncorks a bottle of red wine and pours us both a glass.
Ethan lets me hold his face in my hands so I can inspect him. Though he is twelve already, I can still see the baby in him. Especially where his hair is plastered to his forehead. Especially in his pink cheeks and the petulant set of his mouth.
“Mom, I’m fine,” he growls stubbornly.
“You’re not fine! You’ve been battered! You’ve been assaulted! I’m calling the police!”
“You’re going to have the staircase arrested?”
I squint at him suspiciously. “Stairs. You’re serious. You expect me to believe that?”
He shrugs, but his eyes slide diagonally away.
“That’s the story he told the nurse too,” Wanda adds sarcastically. “Boy versus staircase again.”
“That’s what happened,” he mutters unconvincingly. “Can I have my frozen peas back? Or would you like me to be scarred for life?”
Helplessly, I drop the peas back in his hands and he cups them to his forehead and slides off the kitchen stool.
“I hate it when he’s sarcastic,” I murmur as I watch him walk into the living room and flip on the PlayStation.
“Yeah, it’s weird when he opens his mouth and your voice comes out,” Wanda shrugs. “Drink your wine. You’ll feel better.”
“Did the school say anything? Did they tell you what really happened? Was it that kid Justin again?”
“I don’t know, I’m just the emergency contact,” Wanda sighs. “They can’t tell me anything anyway. And that kid is like Fort Knox. Nothing is getting out of there if he doesn’t want to tell.”
I gulp my wine, then refill the glass. “You’re telling me.”
Helpless, I just watch the back of his head, reminding myself that if anyone had thought he was in any real danger they would have called an ambulance. If they had caught another kid, they would have let me know. But Ethan has had such a problem in this school, it just fills me with helpless fury.
“Maybe you should send him to Catholic school? Military school?” Wanda offers. “Something like that?”
“I wish I could. That’s more money that I make in a year. You know that.”
“You should ask for a raise. They don’t appreciate you.”
“Do you think I haven’t asked for a raise? Really?”
“Well, it’s not more money than his dad makes in a year,” Wanda mutters, not even under her breath.
“He’s got another semester and a half before he goes to high school, too,” I continue, ignoring her. “Like, there’s nothing I can do. Does middle school just suck this bad for everybody?”
“Yes?” She shrugs, pushing her frizzy hair back behind her ears.
I imagine middle school was probably pretty tough for a mixed-race lesbian badass, come to think of it.
“I don’t think that makes me feel any better.”
“Yeah, me neither,” she admits. “But these things tend to escalate. Kids are intense. If you have a way of getting him into another school, he could get a fresh start. A do-over. Maybe somebody else could pay his tuition…”
I glare at her over the rim of my glass. She flinches and sucks her teeth.
“Is your pride really that important?” she continues brazenly.
“This is not about my pride!” I hiss, leaning toward her so Ethan can’t hear us. “That door is closed. Wanda, I’m serious. That door has never even been opened! This is a two-person operation here. You know that.”
She shrugs and splashes more wine into her glass.
“I’m just glad I could help is all,” she sniffs.
“Oh God, I’m sorry,” I sighed heavily. “I guess it is more of a three-person operation sometimes. Truly you are the best l
esbian friend I have ever had the pleasure of never pleasuring.”
“Practically a co-parent,” she mutters sullenly.
“Yes, practically,” I say as a joke, though part of me thinks it’s kind of true.
I watch her watching Ethan as she sips her wine and thinks. She really is a great friend. We met at work, when she had the project manager job I wanted. She leads the construction teams, mostly by doing a majority of the work herself. She helped me rehab this little two-bedroom house when I barely had two nickels to rub together. How to swing a hammer and everything. Did I mention she is a badass?
“Well… I guess you better get cracking, right?” she finally sighs.
“Nah,” I shake my head. “I’m not going.”
She flinches back in exaggerated surprise and reaches out to pluck the wine glass from my fingers. “Oh, you’re definitely going,” she barks back at me. “You are definitely going. You’re all packed and everything.”
I shake my head and glance at Ethan, who is currently virtually kicking the snot out of some kind of hyper-masculine ninja thing.
“I just don’t think this is the right time…”
“The right time?” she echoes incredulously. “When is the right time for a fifteen-year reunion, Penny? In five years it’ll be a twenty-year reunion! This is the only time. Go get your shit.”
“No… reunions are for high schools. This is weird. I don’t want to go.”
“Hold on,” Wanda huffs. “Is this about that guy? Clay?”
“This doesn’t have anything to do with him,” I object.
She rolls her eyes. “Oh, yeah, sure. Nothing to do with the man of your dreams, who will almost certainly be there?”
“I never said he was the man of my dreams,” I object, realizing that I might have actually said that several times. “I mean… He’s a man. I used to have dreams. That’s that.”
She purses her lips seriously and nods, wiping at a spot with a corner of paper towel.
“So this doesn’t have anything to do with some pact that you guys made, where you would resume your fairytale love affair if life turned out to be a big hairy disappointment?”
