“A coincidence.” He rolls his eyes. “C’mon now, Pen.”
Hearing him call me Pen softens me a little. “What do you want me to say? It’s fate? It’s written in the stars? Mercury is in retrograde?” Well, that part is true. “You don’t believe in any of that stuff, or at least you didn’t when we were kids.”
“Maybe I do now.” He lowers his voice, like he’s speaking more to himself than me. “Ever since losing my mom, I’ve just started looking at my life differently. I don’t like that we lost touch. I hate it, actually.”
He looks directly at me with this intense longing in his eyes. It doesn’t come across as romantic. I don’t feel like Smith has been pining for me all these years. But it still catches me off guard.
I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. I don’t know what to say. Part of me wants to comfort Smith. Part of me even wants to tell him that I feel the same, but the thing is, I’m not sure that I do.
That clean break between us was a necessary step toward me being able to grow into the woman I am now. It taught me how to rely on myself. It taught me how to love myself and not compromise my own happiness for someone else’s. If I didn’t go cold turkey off Smith, I don’t think I’d have two filing systems in my memory. There wouldn’t be an Old Penny and a New Penny. There would just be a deeply unhappy woman.
“We were just kids, Smith,” I finally say. “We did the best we could with what we knew at the time.”
“I guess you’re right.” He pauses, mulling the idea over. “But what now?”
The question agitates me. Why is he so hell bent on pushing this? “What do you mean, What now? We eventually get off this bridge and then we go our separate ways.”
“So you don’t want to catch up? Or stay in touch?”
“I’m not saying that.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“I’m saying I don’t know, Smith,” I snap. “This is the first time I’ve been home in ten years, and I was just getting over being scared out of my mind about that when you showed up. Give me a freaking minute to digest everything, OK?”
“OK.”
I reach for my smoky quartz around my neck out of habit, and suddenly, I’m reminded of Fiona. My gaze drops to the emerald cut pendant and its delicate, inky swirls. I don’t normally think of her when I wear this necklace. It’s been so long that the necklace feels more mine than hers. But as I’m holding it right now, I can feel her energy. She was so kind and open and accepting. What would she say if she could see the two of us here now?
I look over at him. He’s leaning against the wheel, likely avoiding eye contact with me. I don’t blame him. He wasn’t asking me to be his new best friend. He just wants to catch up with a friend he lost touch with, and maybe that’s not too big an ask after all.
“Three questions,” I say. “I ask you three. You ask me three. We see how that goes, and if it isn’t too painful, we can keep catching up. How does that sound?”
“Like you’re asking me to try out to be your friend,” he replies. “It seems a little weird, considering I already had the job once before, and was promoted several times, if you remember.”
“I do.” I nod. “But I’m not asking you to try out, Smith. This is me seeing how comfortable I am being real in a place where I’ve always had to put on a front. It really is me, not you.”
“You haven’t been home in ten years?” He cocks an eyebrow.
“Is that your first question?”
“No.” He laughs. “You go first. I need time to prep. If I only get three questions, I’ve got to make sure they’re good.”
My mind goes blank. Well, almost blank. Only one question bounces back and forth in the pinball machine that is my brain. I want to know why he’s got a ring box, but I can’t very well ask him about it without admitting that I slightly snooped in his bag. Half a snoop, really. I could ask him if he is in a relationship. That doesn’t seem too forward, considering the fact that he’s already asked me if I’ve procreated. Plus, I’m sure Jackie is going to want to know, and if I miss an opportunity to ask, she’ll never shut up about it.
Oh, what the hell.
“My friend Jackie wants to know if you’re single.” I motion toward my purse. “She’s the one who wanted me to text a picture of you.”