by Naomi Niles
This was such a painfully accurate portrait of Penny that I began to wonder whether he also liked her. Certainly, he had given her a great deal of thought.
I sat down in the swivel chair and flung my hat down on the counter. “She’s just so different from any other girl I’ve been with—any girl I’ve met, really. She makes up her own holidays to celebrate random events in her life, like the time she drank hot chocolate at a bed and breakfast in Florida. Every year on that date she wakes up in the morning and makes herself a big steaming mug of hot chocolate.”
“I suppose there are worse things one could do with one’s time,” said Dickie.
“I suppose. It’s just sometimes I wonder whether she’s entirely right in the head. Do you remember on Arrested Development when Michael was dating this gorgeous woman played by Charlize Theron, and they were about to get married until he found out she was mentally handicapped? That feels like the sort of thing that would happen to me.”
“That would totally happen to you,” Dickie said with a laugh. “You don’t have a very good track record of dating intelligent women. I could point out some pretty painful examples.”
“I’m sure you could.” There were a couple steel balls lying on the desk; I picked them up and turned them over and over in my hands, thinking. “Last night I was at home alone grilling some fish when I heard a knock on the door. At first, I thought maybe it was you, because who else would come over? But when I opened the door, Carlotta was standing there. She was wearing her designer glasses, a neon pink top, and a denim skirt that stopped mid-thigh.
“After I’d overcome my surprise, I asked her what she wanted. She scoffed at me and said she had just come over to hang out. She hadn’t seen me in a few days, and she missed me. And then she tried to invite herself in, but I stood in the doorway blocking her way. Apparently, she was under the mistaken impression that we were still going out.”
“What about that whole thing where you broke up with her? Or had she forgotten?”
I leaned forward and said in a whisper, “I think she actually might have. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t get it through to her that we were no longer seeing each other. She seems to have thought we were on a break.” I thumped myself hard in the forehead and shook my head. “I mean, how thick do you have to be?”
“Of all the dumb girlfriends you’ve had,” said Dickie, “Carlotta is definitely the dumbest. She makes Penny look like a nuclear physicist. Did you eventually get rid of her?”
“I did, but only after we had stood there arguing in the doorway for about twenty minutes. I have to figure she was lying about not remembering the argument we had the other day. Nobody can be that stupid.”
“I don’t know…” he said slowly. “Remember the time we played Trivial Pursuit?”
“Yeah, and she had never heard of the Titanic! That should’ve been my first clue that this relationship wasn’t going to end well. How do you grow up in America without knowing about the Titanic?”
“It’s pretty weird, I admit.” Dickie came over and sat down on the counter, his face scrunched up in concentration. “See, for me, it wasn’t so much the fact that she didn’t know anything, but that she had no interest in learning. I can deal with a dumb girl; I can’t deal with a girl who’s totally incurious and proud of her own ignorance.”
“Exactly!” I banged my hand lightly on the desk. “She even got mad at me when I made fun of her for thinking JFK was a rock band. I remember her saying, ‘Why should I care who that is? He’s probably dead. It doesn't affect my life in any way.’ But whatever, it’s over now. I’ve closed down our joint account and moved on with my life.”
“I’m so, so glad you broke up with her.” Dickie shook his head in disgust. “God, what a dumb bimbo.”
“Anyway,” I said, and I threw my feet up on the desk, “I can do, and have done, a lot worse than Penny.”
“Point taken. If you end up marrying her, you’re the one getting the better end of that deal.”
“Hey, I like to think I’m okay.”
He reached over and tousled my hair with an affectionate grin. “Yeah, you are, Darren. You’re okay.”
Chapter Eighteen
Penny
After the mountaintop that was my weekend with Darren, it was a miserable feeling having to return home that night. A pile of bills lay on the table unopened; with the amount I was making at work, I would have just enough left over to pay them at the end of the month if I stopped going out. Even having a rich boyfriend was no guarantee against medical emergencies and debt collectors.
And Dad wasn’t doing particularly well, either. On Sunday afternoon, he had another one of his episodes. I think for a few minutes he almost forgot who I was. Margo had explained how the cancer was affecting his brain, resulting in symptoms that resembled dementia. Whenever he slipped out of reality for a moment, I panicked, wondering how long he would be gone.
“I really hate what this cancer is doing to him,” I told Nic on Monday morning over breakfast at Waffle House. “I hate how it’s affecting him, physically, mentally, and emotionally. There’s a long history of cancer in our family, and when I see him struggling to remember his own name I can’t help but wonder, will that be me someday? Will my husband have to take care of me and hold my hand and guide me to the bathroom?”
I set down my fork with the last bite of sausage uneaten. Through the window, I saw cars passing, their headlights turned on against the mist and drizzle. “I guess when I put it like that, it sounds horribly selfish of me. I just don’t like seeing him like this. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone, but especially not my own dad. I remember when I was little I thought he was the tallest and strongest person in the whole world. Now he just looks so old and frail. And he’s not even that old. He’s in his mid-fifties.”
Nic shoved her plate aside and reached for my hand across the table. We sat there together in silence for a moment while she stroked my hand with her thumb. “Is there any chance that he’ll get better?” she asked.
I bit down on my cheek to keep from crying. “The doctors said there’s a chance, but I don’t know if I believe them. I think maybe they’re just trying to make us feel better.”
Nic patted my hand reassuringly, pointedly glaring at an old man in overalls who was staring at us from across the room. “If it weren’t for you and Darren,” I said with a loud sniff, “I would have no joy in life at all right now. I think I would want to die; I would be so sad.”
“Yeah, how was your trip?” asked Nic, her tone brightening. She added in a whisper, “Did you do it?”
Sensing that there was no way to avoid answering that question, I nodded with a guilty look. “It was…fine. I mean, he was great. I don’t know how good I was. I remember reading somewhere that nobody really enjoys their first time because they’re so nervous and clumsy.”
“Well, at least he was there to lead you. He had to have been pretty experienced, right? More experienced than you?” she added in a hopeful tone.
“Much more than me. He knew things that I had never heard of. And I think he would have done more if he hadn’t known it was my first time and that I was nervous and scared. At first, I was really scared that he might ask me to do something weird and gross, like with our butts, but he was very good about sensing what I liked and wanted. So that was nice.”
“It’s good to have a partner who knows what you like and what makes you uncomfortable.” Nic let go of my hand and leaned back in her seat with a relaxed air. “I’ve done a lot of weird shit, but there have been boys who wanted to do things that even I felt uncomfortable doing.”
“I can’t even imagine,” I said with a shake of my head.
“Yeah, you really don’t want to know. If I was grossed out by it, I can only imagine how you would react, you innocent sunflower. So did he actually manage to get your clothes all the way off?”
“Um, mostly,” I said with an air of hesitation. In the window, I could see the reflection of my own face turning
the color of the tangerine on Nic’s plate. “He got my shirt part of the way off, and then I took the rest of it off. At first, I was scared to take off my bra because I didn’t want him to know that I’m completely boob-less, but he somehow got it unhooked while we were making out. He pulled my jeans down to my ankles—and then he started laughing, and I asked him what was funny and he wouldn’t tell me.”
“You must have been so scared.”
“I was terrified. It’s not the response you want when a boy sees you almost-naked for the first time. But I think I figured it out later. When I was putting my jeans back on, I realized that my underwear had cute cartoon turtles all over it, because of course, it did. Do other women our age not wear cute cartoon underwear?”
“I don’t,” said Nic quietly.
“So that happened, and we somehow got through it despite the fact that I couldn’t figure out why he was laughing. Of course, I was panicking, thinking maybe I looked weird down there. I’m sure he’s seen a bunch of other girls and they probably all looked normal, and I bet they all shaved. I thought maybe the hair would be distracting, but he didn’t seem to mind.”
“I think Darren was probably willing to overlook a lot of things for the chance to spend a few hours in bed with you.”
“And I’m not even sure why,” I replied, raising my hands in the air with a bewildered look. “It’s not like I’m anyone great or special that the other boys are lining up to sleep with. I’m just a girl who lives with her dad in rural Texas and watches Doctor Who and works part-time at an auto parts store. There’s nothing particularly unique or interesting about me. Why is he settling for Dr. Pepper for when he could be drinking champagne?”
“Well, I won’t pretend to know what goes on in boys’ minds,” said Nic, “but you’re a fun, quirky girl, and a lot of guys really dig that. Plus, I think it’s assumed that if a girl regularly goes bungee-jumping and skydiving and is adventurous and sort of eccentric, she’s probably amazing in bed.”
“Well, sorry to be a disappointment!” I shouted, a little too loudly. “At least now he won’t have to spend the rest of his life wondering what it’s like to sleep with me. And who knows? Maybe the more we practice, the better I’ll get. Give it a year or two, and we could be having really—you know, not earth-shaking, but respectable sex. And I’ll learn to wear more sensible underwear.”
But Nic lowered her eyes, and I could sense there was something she was holding back. “What’s wrong? Do you not think I could get better?”
She drew a deep breath and turned to face the rain-lashed window. “I’m sure you will with enough practice. I’m more worried that Darren isn’t going to stick around long enough to let that happen.”
I stared down at my plate with a sinking feeling of disappointment in my stomach. “Is it because I’m not good enough?”
“No, it’s got nothing to do with that! Don’t worry. I just don’t see Darren as being the sort of person who’s willing to commit to an exclusive, monogamous relationship. I’ve known a lot of boys like him, and they don’t generally stick around for more than a few months.”
I knew she was only trying to help, but there was something distasteful in the tone of her last remark. Instinctively, I felt myself wanting to defend Darren. “Why is it that women in our generation are so cynical and skeptical about everything?” I demanded. “Why can’t you just hope for the best instead of expecting him to bail at the first opportunity?”
“Pen, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend—”
“It’s not just you; it’s everyone. ‘You need to be careful because guys are only after one thing!’ I just wish we would give boys a chance to prove themselves instead of assuming that they’re animals. What if he likes my body because he likes me? What if he wanted to sleep with me because he likes me, and what if he goes on liking me?”
“I mean, I guess I can only speak from my own experience, and in my experience, boys haven’t wanted to stick around much after the first encounter. There have been a lot of one-night stands. But you’re right, let’s admit that maybe I’ve had some bad luck with boys and that maybe your experience will be different.”
“Nic, I don’t think you know Darren like I do. I can see why you would think that, but it’s really not up to you to say what sort of guy Darren is. You’re welcome to offer your opinions, but they’re never going to overrule mine because I know him better than you do.”
“Right,” said Nic, raising her hands in surrender, “and I should never have said otherwise. I’m sorry. I’m sure what you have with him is great, and I really hope it continues and flourishes.” Her voice remained tinged with skepticism in spite of her reassurance.
We were both in a rotten mood by the time we left Waffle House. She offered to pay for my meal, but I told her I would do it myself. We were silent on the way to work as the car plowed through the rain-flooded streets, tires spraying water in every direction. An old bearded man stood on the corner in a fisherman’s hat and a gray rain coat; I might have offered him a ride if Nic hadn’t been in the car. She had always said I was too trusting and that I must never give rides to people I hadn’t met.
At work, I half-heartedly deflected the continuing flirtations of Adam. He and a couple other guys wanted to know where Dad had been and how he was doing. I went through the motions of talking, but my mind and heart were elsewhere. As the morning wore on, I kept one eye on the door waiting for Darren to come in. Whenever I heard the crunch of gravel or the whir of tires in the parking lot, I felt a momentary surge of hope.
But he never came, and after waiting for most of the day, I began to fear that maybe Nic had been right after all. Despite what he had said, maybe he had no intention of coming by the store this week. Maybe those were just words he had used to get me out of the car. I felt embarrassed and ashamed of myself for ever having trusted him in the first place. In the future, I would never believe the words a man whispered in the heat of passion. In the future, I would avoid situations that might lead to those passionate moments in the first place.
As the workday drew to a close and the rain continued to drum against the windows, I fell deeper and deeper into despair. I had been too trusting; I ought never to have let Darren into my heart and into my bed…well, the hotel bed I happened to be in. Nic was right, just as she had been right about the homeless man on the corner; I was too trusting. Darren wasn’t the first person I had allowed to take advantage of me. People had been doing it to one degree or another my entire life.
I couldn’t allow it to happen again. I would have to dissociate not only from Darren but from his whole rotten gang of friends. Dickie had sent me a friend request on Facebook over the weekend. I had confirmed it without much thought, but now I realized what a mistake that had been. I would have to un-friend him. If Darren ever showed up wanting to talk, I would show him the door. I wasn’t about to let myself get hurt again. If he hadn’t already, eventually he would realize he had made a mistake hooking up with me. When that happened, he wouldn’t hesitate to remove me from his life, breaking my heart in the process.
The easiest way to prevent that from happening was to reject him before he rejected me. Yes, we had slept together, but we weren’t lovers, and we weren’t friends. I wasn’t in love with him; I wasn’t in love with anyone. And I had no friends.
Chapter Nineteen
Darren
It was another four days before I saw Penny again, four days which I spent thinking over our last meeting and looking ahead to the next.
I could never quite get out of my mind the memory of our lovemaking. I still felt the warmth of her body against mine, the way she softly moaned with closed eyes and hair billowing angelically. The way her whole body shuddered as I thrust my tongue into her belly button; the small, sharp screams that grew louder and louder as we approached climax.
I waited a few days before visiting the store because I wanted to give her time to absorb what had happened between us. Also, I didn’t want to seem over-eag
er. I knew from painful experience how quickly a woman could lose interest in a boy who wouldn’t leave her alone. I believed in the old adage about absence making the heart grow fonder. I would much rather have her wondering why I didn’t come around more often than wondering why I wouldn’t leave.
You could call it manipulative if you wanted, but that wasn’t how I saw it. I just wanted her to want me, and I wanted to keep on wanting her. So I waited.
It wasn’t until Wednesday morning that I finally found an excuse to visit the store again. When I came into the garage at a quarter to nine, I found Dickie wiping down the hood of the Mustang, wearing a blue blazer and looking very much like Biff Tannen at the end of Back to the Future.
“Hey, did you order an entire exhaust system the last time you went over to Car Quest?” he asked me as he cracked open a cold can of root beer.
“No, why?”
“Because one just came in. Somebody from over there called me about twenty minutes ago and said it was waiting for you to come pick it up.”
It was the first genuinely good news I had heard in several days. “I must have an anonymous admirer.”
“Hmmm, yeah. Maybe they also anonymously paid for it. It’s gonna put you back about four hundred.”
“Shoot, I got that much in coins in my back pocket. Anyway, if you don’t need me, I think I’m gonna go head over there. It’s been a few days since me and the girl have seen each other, and I expect she’ll want to catch up.”
“They usually do,” Dickie said with a philosophical air. “In my experience, once a girl gets a taste of the D, she don’t want to go more’n a few days without it.”
“Yeah, I could’ve done without hearing that from my boss this early in the morning.”
