The Price of Penny

by T. C. Rybicki

  Chet spread out the red and white checkered blanket that came in our picnic basket. We walked around the property a good half hour before we chose the perfect spot. He said he’d never taken a woman on a picnic. I kindly reminded him I was taking him on this date. It was all my idea since I found out about these picnic packages the first night we arrived. The restaurant packed up these elaborate baskets with a variety of fruit, wine, and cheeses. I splurged for their most expensive offer.

  Chet’s eyes bulged as I pulled out the contents and made us a plate to share. “This is amazing. Damn, I need to step up my game to beat you in the romance department.”

  He opened the wine. We had two bottles to choose from. I wasn’t going overboard tonight, so we could save the extra for another special occasion. I needed a clear head to be so close to Chet. The food and the wine were both delicious. We were having a great time, but I sensed he was slightly distracted.

  I needed to get him talking. “At least, the intruders never showed last night.”

  “Yeah, I meant to tell you. My guys halted a few photographers at the entrance. They lied and said they were with the wedding, but the security knew better.”

  All that mattered was Maggie’s wedding went smoothly. I brought up the text messages. I thought that could be the real issue with Chet. “What happened with your family? Is it Mimi?”

  He slowly shook his head. “Oh come on, babe. We are having fun and I told you Mimi is great. She loves you by the way, says I better hang onto a catch like you.”

  “Haha. I’m sure the rest of the world sees it differently. You’re the catch, not me. I’m not trying to dampen our mood. The day isn’t over, there’s more fun to be had, but if something’s troubling you, I wish you’d clue me in. You’re upset about something that happened at the hospital. I can tell and Sheila keeps texting me to see if you’re okay.”

  “You can’t be serious?”

  “Why? I can’t text with your mum?”

  “Of course, you can, but not to plot against me.”

  “We’re not plotting. She’s worried about you so that concerns me.”

  Chet tried to table this discussion for another time and place. He wanted nothing to ruin our romantic evening. I held his hand and brought it against my chest. Being in a relationship was about sharing and trusting. I wasn’t going to force him to talk to me, but I really wished he’d tell me.

  “We fought. A lot. All of us. It was bad. It was a first, but now I’m concerned it’s not the last time. That scares me. I feel like so much changed after a few heated words were released.”

  I could tell fighting with his family really bothered him. I had been around families plenty of times during a medical crisis. I assumed the disagreement came about because of the stress after the accident and subsequent surgery. I tried to tell him I was sure it wasn’t as big of a deal as he was making it out to be. His family probably had gotten over it by now. His Mimi was doing well in her new rehab facility. Her prognosis was good after hearing the rundown from Sheila.

  “You want to tell me more about the fight?”

  “You were right and I’m an idiot. Apparently, my parents fight or a more accurate assessment would be that my mom tries and my father refuses to participate in meaningful conversation. She’s been pissed at him for years, maybe longer and they are in therapy.”

  That revelation surprised me. Chet said they started out in a few couple’s counseling sessions at their church, but the minister said they needed more in-depth therapy to get to the root of their issues. Now they meet once a week with a licensed therapist, but still do the spiritual counseling once a month. I thought that expressed their commitment to the marriage, but he thought it meant they were at the end of the line.

  “It’s not your fault. You can’t control what’s going on in their marriage. Sounds like they’re trying really hard to find solutions.”

  “I guess, but now I’m questioning if I’ve always been so caught up in my own world that I didn’t notice what was happening around the people I care about most. I thought they were always so happy and that they had a perfect marriage.”

  “Chet, come on. You had to know it wasn’t perfect. No one can be perfect.”

  “I think we can.”

  I pushed the plates and leftovers out of the way so I could scoot in a little closer. He put his arm around me and kissed my head. I really liked those comfort kisses even after we’d graduated to the real stuff.

  “We can’t be perfect either.”

  “I want to be.”

  “Well, like I said, no, we can’t. Who are you trying to fool, Romeo? We fight like crazy. I’m still nuts and you’re still you-far from perfect.” I looked into the sky and raised my hands. “Sorry, fangirls of the world, but he isn’t perfect in the least.”

  That got him smiling again. “Okay, let me rephrase, maybe our love is perfect. Will that work?”

  I shrugged. Maybe his statement was accurate. I wasn’t sure if there was such a thing as perfect love, but Maggie was right. This was different. I was more in love with Chet than I ever dreamed about loving Jordan and finally, I didn’t feel guilty admitting that to myself.

  We packed up and picked up the pace on the way back. Maybe it was because the basket was a little lighter or maybe it was because Chet knew he had an invite inside my hotel room. Plans sometimes change in the blink of an eye. This was one of those instances. Daddy was knocking on Chet’s door when we rounded the corner from the foyer.

  “There you are. I’ve been trying to get ahold of you.”

  “We were having dinner. We didn’t carry our phones.”

  My father shook his head disbelievingly. “I thought all you Millennials kept your phones with you at all times.”

  I started to ask him what was up but he let me know real quick, it was Chet he was speaking to. Date night was officially over.

  I tried to make sense of the sudden change of plans. Mum had on the Hallmark Channel. She missed Mags already. This was their thing, but tonight I snuggled with her in bed to watch sappy romances while Chet was at the bar with Daddy.

  I tried to tell Chet it was fine to tell him no when he helped me unload the leftover contents of our picnic basket in my room.

  He had this false idea he had to do whatever my dad said or face some sort of covert-op’s assassination. My father never had such contacts nor would he ever order a hit if he could. Chet wasn’t risking it. He had this innate need to please my dad. It was sort of cute, but entirely unnecessary.

  “Mum, tell me again why Daddy thinks he has to pull my boyfriend off to the side and give him the talk. Is everyone aware my 26th birthday is a few weeks away, not my 16th?”

  “We are well aware what decade it is, Poppy. We’re not that old . . . yet. Your father is being your father. I think that’s obvious. He has a few concerns.”

  “I thought you both liked Chet.”

  “We do. Of course, he’s dreamy if you ask me in every way possible.” I rolled my eyes and told Mum not to get carried away or it would get weird. “I think the dance request at the reception was an eye opener how serious you two actually are. Frank is merely getting to know him better. He just gave away one daughter and he’s entitled to be particularly sentimental this weekend. It’s a simple drink. Quit worrying and stop fidgeting so much, you’re messing up the bed.”

  At some point, I think I dozed off. I startled when Dad came inside. I checked my phone, no word from Chet and it was almost 11 pm. I jumped up. “Where’s Chet?”

  “In his room, off to bed. You know for a grown man, he’s a lightweight with his drink.” My father was stone cold sober. I knew he never drank over his limit.

  “Oh my God! Did you get him drunk? Chet doesn’t like to be drunk.”

  My father laughed. “I can see why. It’s not pretty. Get some rest, sweetie. You look tired.”

  I was defensive. I wasn’t tired. I was sick of him treating me like a kid. Of course, I stomped down the hall like a bratty chi
ld while my father watched despite my intentions of telling him I was fully grown. I really wanted to go to Chet’s room, but instead, I let my father intimidate me. I slammed my door, pulled out my phone to call, but Chet never picked up. I sent a text before getting into the shower.

  I got ready for bed but I was too wound up for sleeping. None of my calls or texts were responded to. I had to go check on Chet or I’d be awake all night. I quietly tiptoed down the hall to his room, no stomping or banging around for show like before. I hated that I never got his extra key. He had mine, but I never thought to ask for his.

  I knocked softly and whispered his name. It had been almost an hour since Dad sent me to my room so to speak, but I still didn’t trust his sixth sense which would alert him I was trying to get into a man’s room.

  I almost gave up. Chet must be passed out. I still wanted to see with my own eyes. Finally, the door clicked. He didn’t exactly open the door and I didn’t see him at first. I tried to push my way in, but met with resistance. I shoved as hard as I could and eventually saw the problem. Chet was on the floor in the way. It took some maneuvering but finally I made it in. I closed the door quietly and locked the deadbolt. The only sounds from Chet were mangled groans. I got down on my knees and tried to roll him over.

  “Oh baby, are you okay?”

  He made a louder noise that time. For the first time Chet didn’t smell so great to me. I covered my nose and mouth to block out whiskey-vomit-hotel soap mixture radiating off him.

  He opened his eyes and palmed my cheek. “My Penny Lover. You came to rescue me. I knew you would.”

  I tugged on his arms, but he was dead weight. He was fully dressed, so I assumed washing his face was the best he attempted. I needed to get the vomit smelling shirt off him.

  “You have to help me. I can’t pick you up by myself and you can’t sleep on the floor.”

  “No, please no. No moving.”

  “Chet, you have to get up. This is a nice place but I’m sure the floor is still gross.”

  I got him up in stages. The second I got him on his feet, but not exactly upright, he bolted for the bathroom.

  Poor thing. I couldn’t believe he puked so much. When he assured me it had to be over because that was the third time, I helped clean him up. I had never brushed another person’s teeth but this night was nothing ordinary.

  I got him out of the bathroom and onto to the bed. He fell on his back. I noticed he had his shoes off but one sock still remained. I asked him if he wanted socks or no socks but his answer was hardly coherent. I took everything off but his boxers. There was nothing romantic about undressing him for the first time. He wasn’t even conscious. The hardest part was getting him to move again so I could get him in the bed proper. I had to stay with him; he was too bad off to be alone. I was furious with my father. He had never done anything like this. I couldn’t understand it no matter how hard I tried.

  After about ten minutes of peace, Chet woke up again. I told him to go back to sleep that I was there if he needed me. We were under the covers on our backs with a few inches between us but Chet regained some strength. He grabbed me and pulled me against him.

  He slurred every word. Told me I was naughty for getting him naked without his consent.

  I countered every grab he made for me. I was much faster in my sober state compared to his drunken haze. I eventually gave in and let him wrap himself around me.

  He brought his mouth close to my ear. I could feel every bit of him pressed against my back. “Remember when you were so rude to me and I almost got with what’s her name?”

  That was the last thing I wanted to remember. I hardly cared his stomach was in revolt, I elbowed him hard and he sucked in his breath. “Her name was Amberlie and I can’t believe you brought that up again.”

  I was a royal bitch that night, but he crushed me when he first admitted he had sex with her and then pieced me back together when he found out it was a false alarm. I’d been dumb about that entire situation, but it was probably one of those moments that made me realize how crazy I felt about him.

  “My bad, it’s just . . .” Chet wiggled a little closer to get his point across. “I’m never too wasted to get a Penny rise. Thought you should know.” He laughed so loud, I panicked my father would hear him across the hall.

  I knew exactly what he was talking about and I used his catch phrase, “Good to know.” That only encouraged him. Chet moved his hips until he pressed against my backside again. An uncontrollable reaction occurred inside my body. If he touched me or talked one more time, I would explode. “Alright, that’s it. You’re turning over so we can go to sleep.”

  He mumbled and complained about wanting to hold me, but we needed some distance. I made him face the window to keep his eager body off mine. I thought he finally passed out for good, but I was wide awake again.

  Chet surprised me with one more request. “Please, don’t be so far away. I’m cold.” I knew he lied about being cold with all that alcohol coursing through his veins. He was sweating buckets earlier. I only hesitated a few seconds before finding the most comfortable spot with my arm over his side and my face pressed into his back. This wasn’t exactly the best thing that could’ve happened at the end of our date, but there was no place else I’d rather be than taking care of him. In fact, I kinda hoped it was my job from now on.

  I brushed my hand in front of my face. It was the third time my nose tickled. I knew damn well I did not want to open my eyes yet or move. I felt like boiled shit and my head throbbed from the inside out. That tickle got me again and my curiosity got the best of me. What kept getting in my face?

  My fingers sought out the agitation. Curls. I finally figured it out. I barely remembered her in here last night. I know I embarrassed the hell out of myself, but she stayed anyway.

  I probably looked like hell, but damn she looked hot in her sleep. Penny was out cold and her hair spread all over my pillow did things to me no matter how hungover I was. I needed to get to the bathroom and hop in a cold shower pronto. I was careful to stay quiet since I wanted to let her rest. She deserved it for putting up with my drunk ass. I could honestly say, I’d never been that wasted in all my life and I was certain I probably would never drink again.

  As soon as I was presentable, I tried to wake her. I figured Penny would want to sneak back to her room and get ready before her father ventured over to check on me. Knowing Frank, he would. I gently shook her and when that didn’t work I started giving her little kisses on her face and neck.

  When she opened her eyes, I was hovering just above her lips so I went in for the good morning smooch. She proceeded to push me away which was a huge letdown. Penny covered her mouth and started muttering about how she hadn’t brushed her teeth yet.

  “Like I care. You dealt with much worse from me last night, I’m sure.”

  She sat up and took a look around the room like she was a little disoriented. When she caught me staring at the goods in the chilled hotel room, she quickly covered up with the sheet. “You’re right about that, but I sure as hell wasn’t kissing you. You were pretty gross.”

  “Gross, huh? And yet, you’re in my bed.”

  “I stayed because I thought you might need assistance. What the hell were you thinking getting that drunk with my father of all people?”

  I told her it was never my intention to do so, but Frank scares the hell out of me. I tried to play it cool, but I got nervous and kept tossing back drinks. He must have been fucking with me trying to get me to admit I had enough. I was too afraid to say no every time he asked if I wanted another. It was a combination of a really strong whiskey ingested in a short period of time and a shitload of apprehension that he was going to say I wasn’t good enough for his daughter.

  “You need to stop. My dad might have had high security clearances way back when, but he wasn’t CIA or special ops. He isn’t dangerous, doesn’t know anyone dangerous and he would never hurt another human being unless it was self-defense. You saw his w
orkshop. He builds birdhouses and does actual birdwatching. He loves sunsets and historical markers and watches ‘The Golden Girls’ reruns with Mum every evening.”

  “Does he own a gun?”

  “Yes, many.”

  “Bingo. That’s why he scares me and also he has your eyes only his are smaller and more piercing. As much as I love you in my bed this morning, you better get out of here. Frank’s old school and I think he and I finally get one another. I can’t backslide now that I’m in his good graces.”

  “I know he is old-fashioned. I told you in the beginning how he was about Maggie and Keats. He still isn’t clueless about men and women. He also trusts my judgment.”

  She might be right, but I knew that Frank would rather be in the dark. He wouldn’t want to see this with his own eyes and if one day I was lucky enough to have a daughter, I could see where he was coming from. Penny sneaked into my room wearing her pajama pants and a thin tank top. I asked if she wanted to borrow an extra shirt or the hotel robe but she said she was fine.

  She said she was puzzled how I looked so perky considering. “It’s super annoying. You look damn good hungover. How is that?”

  “You looked hot as hell yesterday at breakfast, so I don’t wanna hear it.”

  “If you’re comparing my mild champagne over-indulgence to what went on here last night, your memory is basically erased. You were pissed. I almost gave up and let you sleep on the carpet. I mean, seriously, I cleaned vomit out of your left ear.”

  “My ear? How the fuck did I puke in my ear?”

  “No idea, but it was there.”

  I pulled her close for a hug, kissed her messy hair and thanked her again for dealing with all that. I was sorry she saw me in such a state, but I was very appreciative she was with me the whole night.

  Penny was only gone about forty-five minutes before she came back with carbs and coffee. Frank knocked about ten minutes after she left which I thought was cutting it extra close. I feigned being perfectly fine. He seemed surprised, invited us down to the restaurant for breakfast. They were packed up and ready to head out to Monterey as soon as they ate. I told him I’d see what Penny wanted to do. I was happy when she brought bagels to the room instead. She said she texted Kate we weren’t coming to the restaurant that my head hurt. It did, but she made me look like a liar since I told her father I was fine.