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/> “Tell me about your father. Does he know you work at the Lopa?” I asked as she raised her legs to rest them on my lap.
“He does. He wants to control my life further. If he can get rid of the one thing I love, then he knows he’s won. It’s the reason I didn’t want to be associated with him anymore. I didn’t want him to rob me of the memory of my mother. It’s the reason I took her maiden name after she died,” she said, playing with a strand of her hair between her fingers.
“You love the Lopa?”
“Of course I do,” she said with a sparkle in her eyes.
“It makes me feel better knowing you care so much. I guess when I bought it I figured no one would love it as much as I do. Does that make sense?” I leaned back into the couch and pulled my feet up onto the coffee table.
“What about you? What made you want to buy a bar?” she asked.
I took a deep breath before beginning, “When I was a kid we didn’t have much. My mother tried hard for us. My father was a deadbeat dad, and my mother was a single mom trying to raise my brother and me.” I cleared my throat before continuing, “My mother on the weekends would sell jewelry she’d make along Ocean Drive. My brother and I would play on the beach, or we would run down and peer into the windows of the closed clubs. We wondered about everything that happened when the city came alive at night.”
“Right,” she weighed in.
“There was a man, he would always buy us an ice cream cone from the vendor near my mother’s booth. He was a bar owner, and everyone loved him. He ran South Beach in my eyes, and I remember wanting to be like him. I don’t know, from there it kind of escalated and I wanted it more and more. Silly, huh?”
“No. It makes me happy you love the Lopa, too. I think with all the changes you’ve made; it should be great there once again.” She drew her knees to her chest as she wrapped her arms around them.
The doorbell rang, and I sprang from the couch to grab the order.
I brought the food to the counter in the kitchen and we rummaged through the bag.
“Hey, don’t take all the spring rolls,” she said, laughing, as I grabbed a few.
“I got you Pad Thai. Thought that would make you happy.” I winked as she laughed harder.
“That’s one of the things.”
I tilted my head at her, suddenly wondering what things made her happy. “What else?”
“Turtles,” she said, picking up a roll and closing her lips around it.
Watching her mouth close around the roll turned me on and made me ready for round two.
“Why turtles?’ I asked, opening the containers.
She sat down on a stool at the counter, and chewed her lip for a moment before looking up at me. “Well, my mom used to tell me a story when I was a little girl about a magical loggerhead sea turtle.” She looked away from me and toyed with the noodles on her plate. “The loggerheads are huge, and this mystical turtle was the biggest and wisest one of all. The turtles would travel all over the world to find the perfect spot to come ashore to lay their eggs. When the babies hatched, somehow, they always made their way back to their mothers. So, she said the turtle watched over all the baby turtles guiding them safely home. She also said the loggerhead would protect all children—human or animal—and would always help guide them home to their mothers.”
I smiled wide and sat down beside her. “Ah, I know all about making up fairy tale shit for kids.”
She laughed. “Well, I like to believe what she said.” She paused and looked over at me. “When she died, I always found myself associating anything that was a baby sea turtle with her. Hoping one day I would make my way through the great big ocean of life and find my way back to her.”
I turned to face her and pulled her stool in closer to me. “I’m so sorry, Penny. I didn’t mean to make you sad.”
She shook her head at me. “No, it’s ok. The turtle makes me happy.” She smiled and rested her cheek in her hand. “I collect some, because it makes me feel like she’s here with me, you know? Watching over me. It’s why I got this.” She turned and brushed her long hair off of her shoulders revealing the nape of her neck. A tattoo.
My fork clattered to the countertop.
A tiny sea turtle.
FOURTEEN
PENNY
Why is he staring at me like I opened one of his dolls?
“Are you ok?” I asked. Theo hadn’t uttered a word since I showed him my tattoo.
