It was also fully sinking in that she’d still heard nothing from Finn. She’d gotten used to him popping in unexpectedly, his presence always bringing warmth to things. She’d hoped maybe he would just arrive like he always did. That he’d just show up,and everything would be explained and okay. She wondered if it was possible that she’d missed him when she was out earlier in the week. But if he’d seen Bonnie like this, he would have been visiting more, not less.
Self-doubt crept in, cruel and ugly, with too much time on her hands to ponder it. Maybe she really had overestimated his feelings for her. Perhaps it had been just casual fun for him. It had felt like so much more. However, she didn't have much experience to compare it to. Maybe Bonnie was right all along, and she was behaving like a fool.
Still, Penny sat diligently in her spot, rotating between her book and journal and refusing to give up on the chance that Bonnie might start a conversation or at least something more than a mumbled comment.
Chapter 11
By the end of the week, Penny returned from her run in glorious sunshine with a more determined attitude. Regardless of what was going on with her own love life, or lack thereof, they were not going to languish away another day inside. This had to stop.
“It’s absolutely beautiful outside, Bon. Come on. Let’s head out for a walk. Surely, you’ve caught up on work enough to take a break.”
Bonnie looked disinterestedly over her shoulder at the sun beating down on the green grass in the back garden. “You go ahead.”
“But it would be good for you. You can’t sit inside forever. You’re becoming as pale as the rest of the Irish here.” Her joke fell flat, not even earning her a smile.
This lack of emotion was extremely unlike Bonnie. Things had gone past the point of concern. Penny was starting to get scared. When Bonnie had gone through heartbreak before, she was sad but not despondent. She’d cried, moped, and watched sad movies while eating ice cream and living in her pajamas. The spark of light in her eyes had dimmed but was still present. This Bonnie couldn’t even muster up the energy to be annoyed, never mind mad. The ever-present light had gone out, leaving behind a shadow of the person Penny knew.
“I’m grand. Honestly, you go.”
“Could I bring you back something? Maybe one of those scones from that bakery you love?”
“Sure,” came the emotionless reply. “That would be great.”
Penny knew she was being dismissed. Sitting inside, watching helplessly as her friend drifted listlessly along was not an option, though. She needed help.
Penelope didn’t want to be the one to call Finn. She kept hoping he’d turn up before it came to that. But Bonnie was the priority, her own self-esteem be damned. Her friend was past simply being in a funk. This was a level of depression Penny had never seen her sink to before. She didn’t know what to do and hated feeling helpless. She was a doer, a fixer. When things got bad, she devised a plan. Every idea she’d had so far had failed.
Waiting until she was around the corner from the house, she pulled out her phone. Holding it, she became less sure. It felt like a weight, a connection to something bigger, not just a means of communication. She struggled back and forth between texting and calling. Even when she’d decided to text, she wrote, deleted, and rewrote it multiple times before finally going with a simple: Are you free?
She started walking in the direction of the bakery. She hadn’t been there herself but had a general idea of where it was. Her whole body was attuned to her phone, waiting for the ping of a message. Luckily, she didn’t have long to wait.
Yes, came the equally simple reply.
Can I call you?
Sure.
He wasn’t exactly giving her a lot to go on as far as judging his feelings about things. But her desperation overrode her desire to dwell on it.
“Hey,” he answered in a tone that was hard to read.
“Hey,” her voice was much more obviously upset, cracking on the single syllable. She hadn’t meant to sound like that. The combination of not knowing what was going on between them and the reality that she seemed to be failing Bonnie suddenly hithard. She felt the pinprick of tears and wiped at her eyes angrily. She didn’t have time for her own weakness.
“What’s wrong?”
She could feel his concern wash over her. Whether it was for her or Bonnie, it didn’t really matter. He cared, and he would help. She could rely on him.
“Everything.” Even as the word came out, she knew she sounded like one of her students. Obviously, it wasn’t everything. It was just overwhelming enough to feel that way.
“Everything?” She heard the affectionate doubt in his voice, exactly the same as she would have said it.
“Yes,” she couldn’t find it in herself to backtrack, though. “I feel like I’ve made a mess of everything. Bonnie’s not getting better. She’s getting worse. She’s not even showing emotion anymore. She’s barely eating, and I’m not sure when she last showered. She’s staring at her computer constantly, although, honestly, I’m not even sure she’s working. She’s becoming so lethargic. She’s not herself. And nothing I do is helping.” Her words stumbled out, falling over each other in her relief at having someone to share them with.
“Okay, okay. Slow down. This is not your fault, Penny.”
She felt a pang of guilt over her behavior earlier in the week. But that wasn’t exactly something she wanted to share on the phone.
“I feel like it is,” was all she could say. “I should have done more. I should have been better.”
