by Naomi Niles
“Oh, Darren.” I could feel all the anger and self-protective hardness of the last few days melting away. Reaching across the counter, I touched his cheek lightly. “You know I don’t care if you come in just to see me.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, drumming his fingers on the counter. “Hey, by the way! Dickie and I are going fishing tomorrow afternoon if you want to come.”
After feeling ignored by him all week, it was a relief to be invited out. “Sure, I would love to! Provided that Nic can come also.”
Nic shook her head furiously, but Darren and I both ignored her. “Well, cool!” said Darren, looking faintly surprised. “I guess I’ll meet y’all tomorrow at the shop at around noon.”
“Do we need to bring anything?” I asked, studiously avoiding Nic’s look of exasperation.
“Just your selves and your fishing gear. See you then.” He gave a salute, then turned and walked out the door into the rain.
I knew Nic’s freak-out would be epic, and she did not disappoint. “What were you thinking? What if I had had plans for tomorrow afternoon? Or tomorrow noon?”
“Nic, when have you ever had plans before midnight?”
Nic wanted to argue, but even she had to concede the fairness of this. “Anyway, fishing is about the most boring activity they could have possibly picked. I’ve just been drafting into spending my weekend doing the only thing duller than golf.”
“It might not be so bad,” I said. “You might even catch something.”
“If I catch anything other than a cold, I’ll consider it a win,” said Nic before returning to her inventory.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Darren
I could never quite put my finger on why, but for some reason, Nic always irritated me. Maybe because of the way she treated Penny, like she was a child who needed her guidance. She was snobbish and condescending, and she never hesitated to make fun of Penny to her face.
“I can’t believe no one ever asks you for your ID when we come here,” Nic said on the night we went to a club. “You’d think the bouncers would be interested in the fact that a twelve-year-old is trying to sneak in.”
“It’s not sneaking if I do it out in the open,” said Penny. “And I’m not twelve; I’m considerably older than that.”
“No one would know that just by looking at you, hon,” Nic replied. She smirked at me as though expecting me to laugh, but I just shook my head in annoyance.
Wanting to defend my girlfriend, I said, “I think if you look hard enough, you can sort of tell that she’s in her twenties. When she wears her glasses, she looks about ten years older.”
“I guess,” Nic muttered under her breath. “Just don’t let them see your coloring books.”
She had intended it as a joke between me and her, but it fell flat when I didn’t laugh. She was always joking with other people about how dumb or naïve or childish Penny was. Sometimes she even did it in front of Penny, trusting that the joke would go over her head. I suspected that it hurt Penny more than she let on. But she was Penny’s best friend, so I hadn’t made a huge deal out of it.
“If you dislike her that much, then maybe you shouldn’t have invited her in the first place,” said Dickie as we waited in the garage the next morning. The sky over us was gray and overcast.
“Perhaps not, but it was important to Penny that she get to come. She gets shy around those she doesn’t know very well, and it helps to have her best friend there for support. When they’re together, she opens up more.”
“Do you think we could get her to drink?”
“Doubtful. Penny isn’t much of a drinker.”
“Too bad. I think it would be fun to get her drunk.”
“Yeah, but she already acts drunk most of the time,” I pointed out. “If we managed to put a couple glasses of whiskey in her belly, she would probably calm down and become the most normal person.”
Just then there was a screech of tires, and the two girls pulled up in Nic’s red convertible. Nic was wearing chic sunglasses and a dark blue tank top while Penny wore a light blue “Little Miss Sunshine” t-shirt, still combing her hair.
“Hey boys,” said Nic. “You ready for this?”
“Did you bring your fishing rods?” asked Dickie. “There’s not gonna be a whole lot for you to do out there if you forgot those.”
“They’re in the back.” She pointed lazily toward the trunk. “I tried to talk Penny into running by the store and picking up a few containers of light beer, but she wasn’t having it.”
“Light beer is gross,” said Penny. “I would rather sit there and drink something that’s actually delicious, like mango juice or normal beer.”
“Well, not to worry,” said Dickie. “We’ve got a whole cooler of drinks in the back of the pickup.”
“Did you bring mango juice?”
“I did not bring mango juice,” he said with a shake of his head, “but there’s light beer, regular beer, and some lemon-lime sports drink.”
“Penny, if you drink all the beers by yourself, I will give you ten dollars,” said Nic.
Penny shook her head resolutely. “You’d have to give me at least five hundred if you want me to drink all of them. And an additional fifty for each light beer, because those are gross.”
We spent most of the ride up to the lake trying to get Penny to drink and speculating on how she would act if she did. “I just don’t see the point in putting something into my body that’s going to impair my judgment,” she said as we pulled up to the dock and climbed out. “Especially if there are boys around, because you can’t trust most boys.”
“Hey now, that’s a little unfair to us,” I said, motioning to me and Dickie. “We wouldn’t try to pull anything if you were drunk.”
“We might throw you into the water,” said Dickie.
“Or just nudge you overboard a little.”
“Or leave you alone in the boat in the middle of the lake and tell you to find your own way back to shore. But we wouldn’t, like, hurt you.”
“See, this is why I don’t trust men,” said Nic loudly, walking up the dock with her fishing rod slung over her shoulder. “Anytime there is an opportunity for mischief, they will take it.”
“We ought to ban men,” said Penny.
“But then who would you go fishing with?” I asked.
“Nic and I could go fishing our own selves.”
“How would the human race survive?” asked Dickie.
“Oh, I’m not saying we need to ban all men,” said Nic, casting her line out into the murky waters. “Just the majority. Anyone who reads books, listens to Sufjan, and can quote at least one poem from memory gets to stay. The rest have to go live on an island.”
“I think I could live with that,” said Penny with a dreamy look. “Get rid of all but the poets.”
“Lord, I’m glad y’all aren’t in charge of things,” I said. “I don’t think I can quote a single poem from memory.”
“Well, off to Bad Men Island with you,” said Nic, waving her hand regally.
It was hard to tell the extent to which they were joking. I had a feeling Nic was being half-serious, and it annoyed me because I had never cared much for women who wanted to banish all men. Whenever they were together, Penny seemed to grow more combative and man-hating, and it was hard for me to tell whether this was her true self or just a pose she adopted when she was hanging out with her best friend.
“Hey,” said Penny, dipping a toe in the water, “do you think this lake is safe to swim in? I kind of wish I had brought my swimsuit.”
“I wouldn’t risk it, personally,” said Dickie. “There are no alligators that I know of, but you never know. I wouldn’t want you to jump in and get eaten, just because I said there were no alligators.”
“I think we should do it,” said Nic, her eyes bright with mischief. “Penny, what say you?”
I really didn’t think Penny would go for it, but to my surprise, she said, “I’ve always wanted to
see a gator up close. Maybe he’ll let us ride on his back.”
“Girls, that water is so filthy,” said Dickie, “I really wouldn’t—”
But no one was listening. Nic was already standing up and tearing her clothes off. I watched with a feeling of shock and delight as she stripped down to her underwear, revealing her remarkably lithe body.
I thought maybe Penny would follow suit, but I should’ve known better: she would never have exposed herself even partially in front of Dickie.
“What’s that song we used to sing in church camp?” asked Nic. “‘I’m diving in, I’m going deep…’”
“Come on, let’s go!” cried Penny, and grabbing her by the hand, she leaped in, pulling her down into the dark water.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Penny
I awoke the next morning to a text from Darren.
Hey girl, he said. I’m proud of you
Proud of me? What did I do? I replied.
You did some amazing things yesterday, things I bet even you weren’t expecting
I guess that’s true, I typed back. I jumped into the filthy lake water even though Dickie said I would probably be eaten, and I caught my first-ever fish! It wasn’t a big fish, but it was a fish and I caught it.
You did catch it, he said with a smile emoji.
Yeah… I said doubtfully. I wish there was some way we could actually celebrate.
We can, you know, he replied.
How?
You could come over and have breakfast with me. I’m gonna be making omelets with onions, artichokes, and sun-dried tomatoes, and maybe fry up some bacon and sausage. Doesn’t that sound good? Doesn’t it sound… dare I say…delicious?
That does sound good, and delicious, I said. And this time I won’t even invite Nic.
There was a brief pause, at the end of which he said, You could if you wanted.
Grinning to myself, I texted back, Don’t lie. You know she makes you feel uncomfortable. I can see you bristling whenever she talks about hating boys.
At the end of an even longer pause, Darren replied, I guess I can’t keep anything from you, babe. I don’t *hate* her, there’s just some things that annoy me. Anyone who would jump in a filthy lake in their underwear can’t be all bad.
I sent him a blushing emoji and added, How ‘bout we talk about it over breakfast? How soon do you want me over there?
Hmmm, give me about 45 mins?
Deal, I wrote back. See you then.
I threw on a pair of blue jeans, a white shirt and a red flannel over-shirt, and was still brushing my hair when Dad came into the room. I glanced up in surprise when I saw him. His eyes were red and puffy, and it looked like he had been crying.
“Are you okay?” I asked. “How did you sleep last night?”
He walked over to the window, where a pale sun shone weakly out of a white sky. “Not particularly well. I had a pain in my side that kept me tossing and turning for most of the night. Nothing you really need to worry about.”
“If you say so…” I said skeptically. “I hope you’ll let me know if it’s anything worse than that. If you want, when I get home tonight, I’ll sit up and read with you until you fall asleep.” When he started his radiation treatment I would read to him every night from Anne of Green Gables before bed, but lately there had been too much else going on.
“I think I would like that,” he said with a smile. “We were almost done with the first Anne book.”
“We were. Josie Pye was being obnoxious, as always.”
“Remember when you were growing up I always told you to be an Anne and not a Josie Pye.”
“I do remember that. It’s a lesson I took to heart.”
Dad came over and tousled my newly combed hair with an affectionate grin. “Where are you headed?”
“Darren invited me over for breakfast,” I said with an embarrassed sigh. “You don’t mind if I go out for the day, do you?”
He shook his head. “Don’t let the ailments of an old man keep you from going out and enjoying yourself. How are you and Darren doing, anyway?”
“Pretty good…” Dad raised his brow at the note of hesitation in my voice. “We had a fine time yesterday up at Brazos Bend State Park. Him and Nic don’t exactly get along, but I think they’ve made their peace with each other.”
“It sounds like you’re having second thoughts about the relationship.”
Dad had a way of voicing my own thoughts back to me, and I hated it. I sat back down on the bed, a sharp feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. “I just worry sometimes that maybe I’m not good enough. What if there’s some other girl out there who’s better for Darren than I am, and he ends up stuck with me? What if I’m just a needy woman who latches onto the boys who are nice to her, regardless of whether we’re good for each other?”
“Well, I think it’s good that you’re asking these questions now instead of waiting until you’re married,” said Dad. “But you have to get over this notion that there’s some perfect person out there for the both of you. I don’t want you to spend your whole life looking for that person and never being really happy.”
“I’m the sort of person who could so easily do that,” I said miserably. “I have such high expectations for romance and a husband.”
“You do. You always have. When you were little, you used to borrow your mom’s veil and arrange fake weddings with all your stuffed animals. I think for a while all you wanted out of life was to get married and have a family. It’s been a long time since you’ve really talked about it, but I know it’s a dream that is still dear to your heart.”
“I had to give up the dream because the boys were in no hurry to marry me. Growing up I made a vow to myself that I would be married by the time I was twenty-one. But twenty-one came and went, and I was no more married than before. And Darren’s really the first boy who’s shown any interest in me since high school. I almost wonder if that’s why I’m so attached to him—because there’s no one else and I’m desperate.”
“Well, if it’s any comfort,” Dad said, coming over and resting his hands on my shoulders, “I really like the guy. I don’t know him very well, but I liked him when I met him and I like what you’ve told me about him. He’s decent and kind and responsible, and he takes good care of you.”
“He does,” I said quietly. “I don’t understand why he sticks by me when I’m such an emotional train wreck, but I have no doubt that he loves me.”
“Well, you’re quite lovable,” Dad replied, and pulled me into a hug. “I hope someday you realize that.”
***
But the general sense of panic I had been carrying around all morning proved unwarranted. I found Darren standing at the stove wearing a floral-patterned apron and frying sausage links. He turned and smiled at me without a trace of embarrassment. “I can’t promise this will be as good as Waffle House, but I think you’ll like it.”
“I have a feeling I’ll enjoy it quite a bit better than Waffle House,” I replied, coming up from behind him and squeezing him around the waist. “You have no idea how many times I’ve eaten there in the past couple weeks.”
“I’ve got a pretty good idea. Every time I get into your car, I see the bags in the floorboard.”
I grimaced and made a mental note to clean my car out. “Nic is always insisting that we go there. I sometimes think Waffle House pays her to nudge me in their direction whenever we’re trying to figure out where we want to eat.”
“It could happen.”
“At least I can trust you, I think.” I brushed my lips against his shoulder. “You’ve never tried to talk me into eating at Chipotle five days in a row.”
“Maybe I’m just better at my job than Nic is,” said Darren. “She never makes you breakfast, which is very suspicious.” He flipped over the sausages with his spatula. “Almost like she wants you to eat out.”
“That’s because you can actually cook, unlike me or Nic. I’ve never been particularly good at it, which is
embarrassing because I want to cook for my family someday. The only two meals I can make with any consistency are spaghetti and macaroni.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen you make macaroni,” Darren said with a grin. I had recently posted some cooking videos on Facebook, which mostly consisted of me dancing around the kitchen and singing while Lady Gaga played in the background and a pot boiled on the stove.
“I’m really proud of my macaroni-making technique,” I replied with just a hint of embarrassment. “You get the macaroni boiling, add some butter, turn on the music as loud as you can without waking your dad…”
“Mmmm, you’ll have to show me sometime.” Still smiling, he turned and wrapped his arms around me. I loved the feel of his breath on my hair and the way I slotted perfectly under his chin. I pressed myself close to his heart, and an electric warmth radiated between us.
“You never answered my question, though,” I added after a brief silence. “How did you get so good at cooking?”
“Most of what I know I learned from my mom.” We broke apart, and he reached for the spatula. “For as long as I can remember, she’s been cooking at a professional level. She was thinking about going to culinary school before she met my dad.”
“She still could’ve gone,” I said. “Why didn’t she go?”
“Well, not too long after they were married, she found out she was pregnant with Curtis. It was one of those things where she kept telling herself she would go back to school when the boy was old enough, but then she had another son, and another…”
“And not a single girl in the bunch.” I shook my head. “I wonder what a Savery girl would have been like.”
“We’ll never know now.” He began removing the links from the skillet and setting them down in a pile on top of a grease-soaked paper towel. “One thing I’ve always wondered about your dad: how did he end up going from being a high school teacher to running an auto parts store?”
“Well, he’s always been interested in cars,” I explained, “which is probably where I get it. Back when he first started teaching, he was working two jobs to support us. On the weekends, he worked part-time as a used car salesman. Of course, managing an auto parts store doesn’t bring in significantly more money than teaching, and I think he knew that. But after doing it for twenty-five years, I think he was just tired and wanted to try something different. He’s like me in that respect, or I’m like him.”
