But of course, that's too much to ask.
There's another prolonged silence and then my mother speaks in a robotic voice. "Congratulations, then, dear." She clears her throat. "Oh, I have a call on the other line."
My heart drops to the floor as she rushes out a quick goodbye and hangs up on me.
I stand, lost, in the middle of my apartment as I stare at my phone. I toss the stupid device at my couch and watch it bounce then clatter to the floor.
My eyes burn with the need to shed my bubbling emotions. It hurts far worse than I should let it. How am I not used to this yet? I clench both my jaw and my fists, fighting the urge to cry. I will not cry. I will not let her do this to me.
My mom wasn’t there for any of my life. She’s missed every important moment. Every one of them. And now, on the literal motherload of all moments, she’s proven herself consistent. She doesn’t care. She doesn’t care that I’m finally getting the opportunity to have something she never gave me.
A family. A tiny family of my own.
32
Walker
I felt edgy not seeing Penny around the cabin today. I know the woman needs her day off, just like everyone else, but damn, I’ve gotten used to her company on the farm. It didn’t feel right, being without her. Now that we aren’t stumbling into bed together on the daily, seeing her at work is what I look forward to most.
I walked into my house at least three different times this afternoon, forgetting that it was empty, hating that it was so damn quiet. Even though I give her crap about her love of pop songs, today I missed hearing her cheesy music playing in the background while she works.
Can I admit something? Some of it is kind of catchy. I caught myself mumbling a Lady Gaga song while I was cleaning the horse stables earlier.
Who am I anymore?
By the time evening rolls around, I'm nearly coming out of my skin. With the important things on my list done for the day, I decide to break away from the farm and go check on Penny at home. I'm bringing her dinner. That's my excuse. Now that she’s eating for two, it’s important to make sure she gets enough. Cooking for one just plain sucks, so I doubt she does much cooking during the week. I know I don’t.
Holding a cloth bag full of cheeseburgers and fries from the fast food place in town, I bang on the front door to her apartment. I make a mental note to tighten the screws on the hinges. The damn thing rattles every time I knock. That can’t be safe when you have a kid running around, right?
There's no response. All I hear is loud, loud music bleeding through the door. So I knock again. I remember seeing her little old hatchback parked on the curb outside. Penn should be here, too.
My stomach churns. 'Fragile' has never been a word I'd use to describe Penny, but ever since I found out she’s pregnant, I can’t help but worry about her.
I grab my keys, thumbing through them quickly to find the emergency key Penny made me. This seems like as good a time as any to put it to use. I have to make sure she’s okay.
As soon as I swing the door open and step inside her apartment, relief floods through me. She’s here. She’s okay.
The woman is on her knees, bent over. Her hands are frantically scrubbing the tiles on her kitchen floor.
“Penn?”
She doesn’t hear me because of the ear-splitting music throbbing in the air. I’m next to her in three large steps, hooking my arms around her and hauling her to her feet. She squeals, struggling in my arms until she twists around and spots my face. Then she smacks me in the chest. Hard.
“Dammit, Walker! You scared me!” Her chest heaves with her hand over her heart.
“Didn’t mean to. Sorry,” I mumble. “What the hell is going on here anyway? I’ve been knocking on your door.”
She glances around the room. At the front door that’s still standing wide open. Then back toward me. “Nothing. Just cleaning,” she says with a shrug.
My eyes take her in more clearly. There’s some sort of shit smudged across her forehead. It’s smeared on her cheek, too, where it looks like she’s been wiping sweat off her temple. Throw in a rag gown, and you’d have Cinderella in here.
What the fuck is going on?
I step closer and narrow my eyes at her. “Come on, Princess. Have you seen yourself? This isn’t you.”
She blows out a puff of air. “What? I’m fine.”
I angle my head to the side. “I know you well enough to know you’re not okay.”
Her eyes lock with mine. Her bottom lip trembles. That only amps up my anxiety.
“What’s wrong, Penn. Talk to me. Did something happen with the baby?” My heart is racing.
Her eyes water as she shakes her head. “No. No, nothing like that." She runs a fist beneath her reddened nose. "I just…I talked to my mom.” She sounds utterly defeated. Embarrassed. Hurt.
My chest deflates. Even without knowing the ugly details, I know her mother royally disappointed her somehow. I’ve been around Penny enough years to see all the ups and downs where her mom is concerned, and it’s no exaggeration to say their relationship has basically been a clusterfuck of ‘downs’.
That’s one woman who doesn't deserve to be a mother. But Penny is too sweet to shut the lady-jerk out of her life, like she should.
I step forward, wrapping my arms around the pretty girl. She buries her flushed face into my chest. I squeeze her warm body as it shudders with each sob. “Oh, Penn…” I whisper into her messy hair. I hate seeing her like this. Makes me so damn mad.
“Having a parent who doesn’t care…” she sniffles into my shirt. “She makes me feel so worthless. Like I did something wrong to deserve this.”
“No, Penn.
