Page 4 of Rescue
Chapter 2
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Penelope
I’m just getting out of the shower when I hear the front door open. The clock on my phone says it's 7:18. The only people with a key to our Santa Monica high rise apartment are me and Spencer, and the building manager, but he doesn’t count.
I throw on my bathrobe and go to see who it is. I walk into the living room and see Spencer staring at something on his phone. I stand there waiting for him to notice me. It takes a solid minute before he looks up and realizes I’m in the room. He startles, then seems to catch himself.
“Oh, hey P, got the morning off?’ he asks in a distracted way, not really waiting for my answer as he walks past me into the kitchen and pours a cup of coffee. “I’m wiped. I’m just here to shower and change. I haven’t been able to pick up my dry cleaning, and I’m out of clean suits at the office. You mind grabbing those for me, today, since you’re off?”
I balk and am just about to ask him why he never called me back when he picks right back up, “This new charge our client got last night is going to be easy to beat. All I’ve got to do is put in the work and that promotion is mine. I’ve got this.”
I’m not sure he even realizes I haven’t responded to him. When did it get like this? When did he stop caring about what I had to say? Suddenly, it’s clear as day. He never really did. All he cares about is how things look to other people. I’m just a pawn in his game. I stand there for a minute and let it sink in. It feels like a sucker punch. How have I been so blind?
Spencer continues talking about how awesome he is and how many people are going to know his name soon. I shake my head a little to clear my negative thoughts. It occurs to me that none of this matters. He’s not worth it. Nana needs me and I need to get out of here.
I turn and walk out of the room and it’s as if he notices that I’m not hanging on every word, “What’s with you this morning?”
I just keep walking. Once you realize that you're so unimportant in someone’s life that your emergencies aren’t on their radar, what’s the point in arguing? It’s not like anything I say is going to get through to him. I go into the laundry room and grab the clothes that I need out of the dryer and take them into our bedroom.
“Where are you going? Are you mad that I didn’t come home last night? Because you know that my job is strenuous and requires long hours. You know how busy I am and how important this promotion is, Penelope. Look, I’m sorry, is that what you want me to say?” he asks in a whiny voice as he follows me into the room. I think he believes that tone of voice gets him out of trouble, but honestly it grates on my nerves. He doesn’t sound cute, he sounds whiny. When did that change?
His eyes widen when they take in my suitcase and clothes strewn about the bedroom. I open the suitcase that’s half packed from the night before and start piling the unfolded clothes into it. Who can care about wrinkles at a time like this?
“Where the hell are you going?” he asks, he’s getting angry now that he realizes he’s not getting out of this one by pretending to be cute. “Penelope why do you insist on drama and antics to get what you want? You don’t have to pack a suitcase to get me to notice you.” He sounds exhausted, as though this is our routine. I’ve never threatened to leave, so I’m not sure what his point is right now.
“You can keep your job for another year, but you really do need to get this wedding planned and set a date. I’ve been patient, but it is time,” he says, trying his best to sound charitable and caring, like he’s doing me a favor. I don’t miss the fact that he isn’t asking. “My boss and I had a discussion about this last week and we both agree that this engagement has lasted long enough.” There it is. The reason for the talk at dinner last night and now this. Well, have I got news for him.
Finally, I’ve had enough. “Did you get my message last night?”
“The one where you asked me to call back about something ‘urgent’? I knew you were just calling for attention after our little spat at dinner. What could be urgent to a pastry chef? Did you have some kind of stupid baking emergency? Did a cake fall over because it was too tall? The cupcakes were overflowing? Cookies too big!?” He suddenly snaps out of his rant and continues in a calm, emotionless tone. “You know, I don’t like to argue either. I get it, but some of us are busy doing things that really matter and can’t be bothered with trivial and mundane issues. I don't have time to coddle you. Grow up and accept that this is the way things are from now on.”
That’s it. I can’t’ take his condescending and infuriating attitude anymore. “It’s not appropriate for you to tell me what I’m going to do as though I’m an employee you can order around. I don’t know where you get off thinking you can control me or my life. I may not be some high-powered lawyer, but I’m not some idiot you can just push around. I’m not staying here to be your arm candy anymore.” I’m worked up now and there’s no stopping me. “I will not continue to live my life based on what you think it should look like. I love baking and that's what I’m going to do. Forever, if that’s what I want. But that’s MY decision. Not yours. I’m not quitting my job because some pencil pushers don’t like what I do.” Spencer’s head snaps back as though I slapped him. I never talk to him like this. Somewhere along the line I let him push me into this mold of what a lawyer's wife should look like and for some reason I just stayed there quietly. I can’t do that anymore. I’m not going to be pigeonholed into some picture perfect June Cleaver. That’s just not who I am and I’m not going to let Spencer steamroll me into thinking that’s what I should do.
He opens his mouth to respond, but I cut him off. Let’s see how he likes it.
“As for my ‘attention seeking baking emergency,’ my Nana fell and broke her pelvis. I’m going home to help her and my mom with the bakery.” His shocked red face tells me all I need to know about how he feels, but I’m not going to back down. I was raised by strong independent women and I don’t need him or anyone else telling me what I am going to do.
He starts to talk but I interrupt him again. I need to do this. I have to get it all out in the open and make sure he understands that the old, quiet, no backbone Penelope is gone. “And about that date you’ve been wanting me to set?” I say with determination. “It’s not happening. It’s over. I’m not going to fit into the mold you’re trying to force me into. I want you to be happy, Spencer, but not at the expense of losing who I am.”
“Look, Pen, I think you’re being a little unreasonable here,” he says, his voice a little nervous, but clearly relieved that my tirade is over. He’s tempered his earlier shock and anger and is trying to reel me back in like a client he’s afraid to lose. I’m surprised by his sudden shift. “You don’t really mean that.”
Just then his phone starts to vibrate. Without a word, he gets up and walks to the other room and I hear him answer, talk briefly and then it goes quiet. Even if he was right, that's all I needed to remember why I’m doing this in the first place.
I walk into the bathroom to pack the essentials and hear him shuffling around in the closet. He comes out and says in a dismissive tone, “Listen there’s another emergency at the office. I know you don't really mean what you just said and I forgive you. I’ve got to go right now, I’ll just shower at the office.” Then he dashes out of the bedroom.
That is just like him to continue to think he's the center of the universe, even after being told he isn’t. Well, he’s wrong. I meant what I said and I’m not backing down. I throw on a comfy pair of leggings and an oversized t-shirt that will be comfortable for the drive, then I quickly finish packing, only grabbing what I need. I can come back once Nana is feeling better and get the rest of my things. It’s not like I can fit all my stuff in my little BMW anyways.
I pour a cup of coffee to take with me on my long drive home and double check my bags to make sure I have everything I need. As I’m walking out of our gorgeous big city apartment, I pause to write a quick note reiterating my earlier statement and put it on the entryway table. He’s sure to find it there when he comes home. I walk to the huge picture window facing the ocean. It’s a gorgeous day with a clear blue sky over the Pacific, waves crashing along the beach. The view is breathtaking and I’m going to miss it.
Walking back to the table, I take my engagement ring off and set it on top of the note. A glorious feeling of freedom washes over me and I know in my heart that I’m doing the right thing. I can’t believe it took so long for me to figure it out, but now that I have, I feel a sense of relief. It feels like a huge weight has been lifted off my chest and I can finally breathe.
I’m just getting onto the highway when a call comes through my car. It’s Brenda, my boss at the catering company. Oh no, I think to myself, dread spreading through my body at the thought of talk to my her. I forgot to call after my shower. I know she’s going to be angry and I really don’t want to talk to her. I need this job though, or at least a good recommendation from her. That’s not going to happen if I just ghost her. “Hello?” I say, answering the phone.
“Penelope? Where are you? You were supposed to be here an hour ago,” she says in a tone that makes my anxiety ratchet up a few degrees higher. Brenda is strict and she leaves no room for error. She’s yelled at me before and I have a feeling she’s about to do it again.
Knowing I’ll get further with her if I’m honest, I tell her what’s going on with Nana. “I’m sorry, Brenda, I had a family emergency and I have to leave suddenly and go back to Piney Grove. I’ve been so busy packing I forgot to call. I’m going to need to take some time off,” I say in the sweetest voice I can muster. I hate Brenda, but I don't want to get fired if I can help it. After Nana gets back on her feet, I want to come back and make sure all the hard work I’ve put in the past few years counts for something. I’ve worked too hard to sacrifice everything I’ve built. I want to make a career for myself and that’s not going to happen if she gives everyone that calls a bad reference.
