She’d avoided looking at the video of La Roque’s fateful visit to the gym, but now she couldn’t help herself. She watched itall with her mouth dry and her chest palpitating. The almost comedic way the fighters had tumbled together, one falling after the other like dominoes until she fell, too. So fucking dumb and embarrassing. She’d laugh if the camera hadn’t zeroed in on Jack’s face.
Before this, the memory of the panic in his eyes had been seared into her brain but she’d thought it was in her memory only. It had been captured and immortalized on digital for the world. The way he picked her up and ran was anything but amusing. It hurt to watch. It was clear his first and only thought had been to take care of her and their baby.
“Goddammit,” she swore softly to herself.
Was she the asshole here for insisting he go on like nothing had happened?
Nope. No, she wasn’t. La Roque was the villain. She stared at his face, musing at how his hatred had made his handsome face ugly in that moment. Even after she fell, he kept swinging only…only now on video did she see he’d stopped when Jack picked her up and ran. He’d stared after them with clear shock on his features, no longer twisted with hate or boastful arrogance but...concern? Could demons show concern for the hurt they’d caused?
No, fuck La Roque.
And Jack should stop fighting like he promised. Get over his past and focus on the future.
But more questions now settled into her head, sticky and uncomfortable. They wouldn’t leave, try as she might to focus instead on the next steps with Ma Mabel’s house.
Maybe Jack had made it hard to stay, but maybe…maybe she’d always had one foot out the door, too. Maybe she had allowed her anguish and shame over Brendan to overtake her life to the point where there really was no room in it for Jack and everything that came with him.
Penny got back in bed, trying to get comfortable and find sleep but it eluded her still. Great. She sat up, looking over at the white desk against the wall. The top shelf was lined with her recital trophies for playing violin. Memories of how proud she’d been to receive them rose up strong. Those hadn’t been “let’s make the kids feel special” handouts. She’d earned them with hard work, bruised fingertips, and love.
Banjo, fiddle, whistle, bodhrán. These belonged to her now, too, not just because of Brendan. Suddenly inspired, Penny tossed the covers aside and went to the desk. She opened the laptop and the file with Brendan’s book…no,herbook. And she wrote. Wrote until her wrists creaked, until her forearms felt like the bones were splintering inside, and she could hardly keep her eyes open. But she wrote until her love for the music was on the page.
The first blush of dawn was creeping through the trees when she finally typed the words “The End.” Then she fell onto the bed and into a much-deserved rest with a smile on her lips.
When she woke up a few hours later, it was to yet another dream about Brendan. In it, he’d been talking to her with his mouth moving rapidly but no words coming out. He was agitated, not angry as he’d been since she got pregnant, but upset about something. As she turned over to look sleepily at the clock, she heard her parents fussing fondly at each other as they left for the day.
Come see me, Penny Lane.
Staring up at the ceiling of her bedroom, then at the boy band posters on the walls, she waited to hear that faint voice again. There was nothing but the scrape of an icy branch against the side of the house. But she knew. It was time to visit the one place she’d been avoiding since she’d come back home. A place she hadn’t been in ten years.
It had snowed again the night before, and huge drifts were piled around the house. She dressed warmly in layers and boots and set out on her trip, dreading the destination but steeling herself along the way. Both cars were gone. She didn’t want to trouble her cousin across the road who was “in between jobs” for a ride; this was a journey she needed to take alone.
Taking a shortcut through the woods meant walking in thick snow. It glittered with the brilliance of diamonds. The evergreens and other bare trees towered over her, but the sky above them was the sweetest blue. Sunshine glanced into her eyes, making her squint against the brightness.
At length, she reached the old Catholic church with its dark stone and leaning gate. This was where she and Brendan had gotten married; his mother had insisted. Rather than go inside, Penny went around the church and found the entrance to the yard in back, settled on a piece of flat land. No one else was there. The utter peace was calming despite the steady thrumming of her pulse.
Slowly, she walked through the neat rows of headstones, noting the decrepit, nearly smooth markers from Owenville’s earliest European settlement. There were few Mayfields among them; most of her ancestors and relatives were either buried in the Anglican or Baptist cemeteries.
There were only two Shaughnessy’s here, Brendan Senior and her Brendan. Over the years the Irish population had established itself on this side of town, but the Shaughnessy’s roots in Owenville did not go deep.
She approached Brendan’s marker slowly, noticing the flowers partially buried by the fresh snow. It should have been her who put them there. Good wives, she’d been told, tended to their husband’s graves regularly. A duty she’d run from — another thing to feel guilty about.
Closing her eyes against the wave of regret, she swayed with the sharp wind that sprang up.
“Hi, Brendan. It’s been a while since I’ve been here. People said I should visit you. It only took ten years, but here I am. Ta-da! Procrastination at its finest. I’ve totally mastered it.” Penny grinned. “I always thought of you as being somewhere else anyway. With me, out there. Looking over me wherever I was so I’d never be lonely.”
The stone remained silent, implacable in the face of the wind and her halting words.
“I finished the book. I’ve worked really hard on it, and I think you’d be proud of it. Also, in other sports news, I…um…I’m gonna be a mom. That’s kinda my other big creative project right now. Wish this kid luck. Where am I gonna find an editor for all the mistakes I’m gonna make with that?”
With her mittened hand, she cleared the thin line of snow along the top of the smooth, dark granite. Her smile faded.
“This will probably sound really dumb, and maybe I’m kidding myself, but…even though you’re so different, I think you and Jack would have gotten along. If you haven’t been paying attention, he’s my giant baby daddy. I kind of fell for him, hard. No one was more surprised about that than me. You couldn’t look more different, but you’re actually a lot alike. You’re both sarcastic. You don’t say a whole lot but when you do, it matters. You’ve got that whole chivalry gene in common. Is it an Irish thing? I don’t know.” She bowed her head. “Maybe I didn’t understand either of you. Why you’d risk your life like that, knowing it was a fight you couldn’t win? Why do that for me?”
This next part. These were the words that were struggling to get out of her mouth. “I — I’m not asking for your blessing to marry Jack. Fuck, he probably doesn’t even want that anymore after I ran out on him. I came here to tell you I’m sorry. I should have let you go a long time ago when you had time to findsomeone to love you the way you deserved. I hope if you can hear me, you’re okay, with all of it. But I have to go. I have to let you go.”
Her eyes shuttered against the wind, against the sun, against the fear and the self-doubt. When she opened them again, they were tear-filled. Penny looked around, expecting to see some sign of him. Some indication that Brendan had heard her and understood. That he forgave her.
But there was no whisper in that familiar voice. There was nothing but the sweep of snow-laden branches low on the ground. That, and the thick crunch of her boots after she said, “Goodbye, Brendan,” and left the yard.