Penelope is quiet for a moment. “Probably got it from my dad.”
“And her mom.”
She glances at me then back at the container. “Not sure about that. I ran in a circle, remember?”
“How many medals did you earn?”
She laughs. “Please, that was a long time ago.”
“Okay then, let’s talk about your four-course picnic here.”
“It’s not much. I stress-cook.”
“You were stressed?” The question is loaded, and I know it might take us down a road we probably shouldn’t veer down.
“You must know I would be. Every time we’re…” She holds out the strawberry container. “Want one?”
I notice the way she edits her reactions around me, the same way I edit mine around her. Two people who spent years being completely transparent with each other now performing carefully curated versions of themselves.
Hazel drops from the monkey bars and moves to the climbing structure, where she finds a high platform and sits on it, surveying the other kids.
“Can I ask you something?”
Penelope side-eyes me. “Hmm… I’m not sure.”
“Hazel’s dad.” I watch her face carefully. Not for reaction, just to make sure she’s okay with the question. “Is he involved?”
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
Decker
* * *
Penelope’s quiet for a moment. She sets her fork down and looks across the grass to where Hazel is sitting on the platform, legs swinging, a small smile on her face.
“No,” she says. I don’t think I’m going to get more from her, but she continues a few seconds later. “He found out I was pregnant, and he chose not to be involved… and that’s it.”
“Oh, I’m sor?—”
“I’m not. If he doesn’t want her, I don’t want him anywhere near her.” She sighs. “I’ve tried to make sure the absence doesn’t feel like a hole in her life, but as she gets older, there are more and more questions.”
“That’s hard.”
She exhales. “When she watches Monroe with Hayes, I see it on her face. The longing to have that in her life. I think I’m running out of time before I have to tell her that her dad chose not to be involved in her life. I’m hoping my dad can fill that role a little bit, and I try to be both, although it feels impossible.”
“Distract her with a dog.” I’m mostly joking, so I don’t volunteer and say I’ll be her dad. Because to take on the role of her dad means taking on the role of someone important to Penelope. That fucking Rule Number Two floats across my mind again—don’t make promises you can’t keep.
“Um… no.” Penelope turns to me.
“We were in your backyard doing the hula hoop, and there was a dog barking a few houses down. She said if she had a dog, she’d teach it tricks, and then they could do the talent show together.” I smile at the memory. “She said you’d say the house needs too much work before you could get a dog.”
Penelope opens her mouth and closes it. “That’s—I probably would say that.”
“She’s not wrong about the house needing work.”
She gives me a warning glare. “Don’t start.”
