Her lips purse in an O of surprise. I watch her puzzle it all out.
“So, like… this one? Feather Rock? Are you telling me that Ron is going to try to outbid me again?”
I can see what’s happening inside her. I can see the way her sandcastle is being crumbled at the footings.
“Feather Rock is on his radar, yes,” I admit sadly. “If it makes you feel any better, he was planning on giving you free rein for that whole project. He told me so.”
“But I don’t want free rein,” she whispers urgently. “I want it to be mine!”
“Then you’re going to have to find a way around Ron,” I shrug. “And when he has his mind set on something, well, there is no stopping him either. And he has pretty deep pockets, Pen. He likes to win.”
She slumps back, distracted and fretting. Her fingertips drum on the tip of her chin as she pouts. Something inside me tugs me forward, urging me to fix this somehow. I don’t want to see her like this. She is beautiful in any light, but discouraged? Disappointed? I don’t like it.
“The auction is Monday,” Penny continues. “I’m going to go. I have to try.”
“You know, not to intrude, but I have pretty deep pockets too,” I begin, gauging her reaction carefully.
Her expression darkens. Looks like this is not the right time to bring this up.
“It’s not going to be like that, Clay,” she murmurs. “I can do this myself.”
“Of course you can, Pen.” I immediately back off. “But do you have to? Like, always? I know that Wanda is eager to help you out too. Everybody gets help from somewhere, sometime. No woman is an island and all that.”
She sticks her chin out stubbornly. “I am definitely an island.”
I watch her, eager to push her just a little bit harder. I know why she is so stubborn about this, but it’s true: everybody gets help. Ron had help from his parents. I had help from Ron. Money doesn’t just appear out of nowhere. Somebody has to give you a push. And that push is money.
“What about family? Something like that?”
She scowls. “What, like my mom? She’s barely hanging together. I know you mean well, Clay, but I’m used to just being responsible for myself. And for Ethan, of course. It’s worked out so far, hasn’t it?”
Silence falls between us. We just look at each other, both thinking pretty much the same thing: it has worked out, more or less. Sometimes much less.
But I don’t think that I can make her understand that there’s no shame in getting a leg up from time to time. She’s proud, but her pride is part of what is keeping her in a struggle.
And I would be proud to help.
But this isn’t about me, I have to remind myself.
“You know, it actually is kind of hard sometimes,” she says out loud, and I can tell that it is a struggle for her to get the words out. “Like, with Ethan… Sometimes it’s almost too much. Sometimes I wish there were somebody…”
Her words fade out quickly and she looks away. When she looks back to me, her expression is determined, wistful.
“But I meant to tell you,” she continues in a rushed whisper, “you hanging out with Ethan… It has really meant a lot to me. It’s not something that I was expecting at all. And it’s something that he really needed. He really needed it, and there you were! That’s never, um, happened before.”
Her eyes shine brightly as she holds back a tidal wave of emotions.
“And his dad? He doesn’t help?” I probe gently, curious but unwilling to exacerbate her discomfort.
She shrugs, scowling as she glances away. “Bryce was a mistake? I mean, Ethan was not a mistake. Ethan is the best thing that ever happened to me. But Bryce… He has never been in the picture. He didn’t want to.”
“That’s not right!” I blurt out before I even think about it. “I’m sorry, I’m not yelling at you. It’s wrong. That’s not what a man should do.”
She takes a d
eep breath and holds it, pressing her lips together tightly while she downloads an entire library of emotions directly into the middle of my chest. She knows it isn’t right. She’s happy that I know it too.
“So what I was just trying to say is, thank you,” she finishes quietly.