Page 134 of At First Smile
As we leave the clinic, Pen’s grin can’t be contained. She unfolds Cane Austen and almost coos to it. “I’ve missed you! Have you missed me?”
To celebrate we head to Bread. Saturday wouldn’t be Saturday without a visit to Bread. It will still be a few days before Pen is back to full use of her hand, but to see her big smile, even with the little winces as she uses her cane, my chest fills with happiness.
“Pen! Rowan!” Jela chirps, greeting us at the hostess stand in front of Bread.
Several waiting customers tip their heads toward us. A few whisper and nudge each other. We’re mostly ignored by the regulars who see us each week, but every now and then someone recognizes us. For the most part, people leave us alone, but sometimes they approach, gawk, or take a sneaky photo.
“Oh my gosh, Pen! What happened here?” Jela points to Pen’s bandaged hand.
“Bar brawl. You should see the other guy,” Pen deadpans.
“I bet you swatted them with Cane Austen,” Jela teases, a crooked smile covering her face. “Seriously, what happened?” She motions to our usual table.
I pull out Pen’s chair and she sits. “I was attacked by a dog.”
Eyes the size of saucers, Jela gasps. “What?!”
Jela’s shocked breaths and startledoh no’sgrow louder with each detail of Pen’s story, one branded into me. That night with her cocooned in my arms, she re-lived it. Somehow Jela’s horrified expression to Pen’s retelling punctuates how scary it was. There’s no embellishment like one of Finn’s stories. But the gentle shake in her hand as she speaks illustrates her fear. That fear gnarls itself inside me.
This whole situation is an unfortunate happenstance, as Finn put it. Just the wrong place at the wrong time. All of it made worse by Pen overhearing her bosses discuss her capability. The idea of her going back to work on Monday churns in my stomach.
Pen assures me that this isn’t everyone at the hospital, but she’s also shared that this is par for the course, just something she deals with. It pisses me off, despite my understanding. God, I want to storm in there, but as Sasha has warned me, “You can’t fight her battles for her.”
The whole thing slipped out Friday morning when Sasha appeared at the rink with a reporter doing a spotlight on Eli. I told her about what happened to Pen, the dog bite and the asshole comments. Greg faces similar things and Sasha remains supportive of what he wants to do, no matter how much she wants to go scorched earth on anyone who hurts the people she loves. As sweet as Sasha is, she and I have that in common.
“Good thing you’ve got handsome here to take care of you,” Jela says, placing a hand on my shoulder and offering a gentle squeeze.
“Yup.” A tight smile anchors Pen’s expression.
“The usual?”
“Yup.”
As Jela saunters away to put in our order, I reach across the table and take Pen’s hand. “You think you’ll feel up to a walk on the pier after lunch?”
It’s only been two days, and I know she craves a return to normalcy. I want to give that to her. These battles are Pen’s to fight, I know that. It doesn’t mean I won’t help where I can. This temporary injury chafes against her independent nature. It’s a struggle to find balance with my desire to protect her without clipping her wings. Though, she’d never let anyone clip them. Everyone who tries fails. This woman is a spitfire and I fucking love that about her.
“Uncle Rowan!” Damon hoots, his tiny body running towards our table.
My eyebrows shoot up.
Sasha and Greg follow, big smiles on their faces.
“What are you doing here?” I stand up. “Sasha, Greg, and?—”
Before I can say Damon’s name, he’s bypassed me and jumped into Pen’s arms squealing, “Aunt Pen!”
Guess I’m no longer the favorite.I chuckle.
“Damon. Pen’s hand, remember,” Sasha tuts, tenderness shimmers in her eyes.
“Oops. Sorry, Aunt Pen.”
She kisses the top of his head. “It’s all good. You didn’t hurt me.”
“How are you?” Sasha bends, kissing Pen’s cheek.
Pen raises her hand. “Good. It will be all healed up in a week or so. I’m already back to using my cane.”
