Fia snuggles down deeper under her blanket, and Tank wiggles up closer, exhaling loudly.
“We’re not moving,” Fia states the obvious.
I slip on my boots and coat, too, making sure the gift is still safely in my pocket, before following Penny out into the crisp night.
The street is full of parked cars, porches lit with lights and wreaths, silhouettes in the windows of Christmas Eve festivities.
Penny rocks back and forth on her heels at the gate, her face tucked into a red scarf, her cheeks rosy pink.
“This way.” I nod to the left.
Penny remains quiet but reaches for my hand as I lead her down the sidewalk.
44
Penny
NOW
I’m almost afraid to blink, wondering if this will all disappear. I squeeze Jesse’s hand harder, testing my reality as we walk down the street we traversed so many times as teenagers.
Our breath is cold, fogging the air around us, and lights twinkle on every house we pass. At the corner is a stately brick home, where guests file out the front door, hugging goodbye on the porch, breaking the silent bubble around Jesse and me.
“Did you want to circle the block?” I incline my head toward the street sign above. “The homes on 2nd Street are always beautifully decorated,” I suggest, but he shakes his head.
“Let’s keep going this way,” he replies softly.
Jesse adjusts the navy-blue beanie on his head but keeps his green eyes locked ahead of us. His chiseled jaw isn’t tense, but it’s working, like he’s mulling over something in his mind. There haven’t been many moments between us lately that were this quiet—we’ve either had a lot to argue about, spewing off distrust that was rooted in a murky past, or it’s been needy touching.
But now there’s this.
“Where are you taking me?” I let out a small laugh, glancing nervously at the stop sign as we pass another block.
With his free hand, he points forward. “There’s a little park just up ahead I wanted to take you to.” He’s coy, like I don’t know which park he’stalking about.
“Oh,” is all I manage to say, biting a smile that’s both nervous excitement and sadness.
I don’t want this to end, not when it’s just beginning.
Last night, I tossed and turned in the same bed Jesse slept in.
I stared at the ceiling, the same one I used to stare at dreaming about getting out, about escaping this town, the people, the situations, just wanting to start somewhere new.
But I stared at it, ten years older.
I stayed up, not thinking about what I was going to do after college, or where Jesse and I would live, or what cities I would explore. Instead, I wondered if, as the people we are now, could we still share each other’s dreams?
Ten unknown years sit between us, ones where we led different lives, and that’s such a daunting thing to think about.
What if I’m not the Penny he really remembers? What if I can’t make him happy like before? What if he doesn’t even want that?
“Hey.” He shakes my hand, still gripped in his. “You good?”
I glance up—we’re across from Magnolia Street Park. It’s empty, but the streetlights still illuminate the best parts. The city even hung wreaths on the gazebo and lampposts.
“Yeah, sorry. Jesse…I think we need to talk.”
I don’t know where I’m going with it, but if I ramble, if I spew out all my jumbled thoughts and tangled heartstrings, maybe I’ll figure it out.
