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What’s left of my heart splinters. I want to tell her I meant it. I didn’t lie. I still mean it. I wanted to be the one person she could count on forever—something I never had as a kid but felt I could easily give her.
But I can’t because it’s a promise that can never be. Whatever unspoken bond we have, no matter how beautiful and innocent it is, it’s not right.
I kneel and rustle through the leaves until I find the ring. Still kneeling in front of her, I take her hand and press it into her palm.
“Don’t do things you’ll regret, Penny,” I say softly. “I think you’ll miss this if you throw it away. It’s special.”
She closes her hand over the ring. “I’ll miss you,” she says tearfully.
I stand and smile weakly. The pain in my chest persists. Deep and throbbing with my pulse. “I’ll miss you, too.” I will. More than I want to admit.
If this is the right thing to do, why, deep in my gut, does it also feel so incredibly wrong?
She gives me one last tearstained look before she heads back toward the path through the woods, with Cherry following her for the final time. Penny stops suddenly, turning her face slightly. The breeze carries her low, heartbroken voice back to me.
“You can’t change eternity, Fox.”
A chill creeps down my spine.
When Cherry returns, we sit on the old porch. Sulking. I have a thousand things to do, but I do nothing. I suddenly feel as lost and broken as I did when Brianna died.
But also, the odd hum I’ve grown accustomed to has disappeared, replaced with an eerie silence in my head.
When the sun sets, I finally stand to go in the house. I feel the paper Penny gave me in my back pocket. I pull it out and gently unfold it to read her poem:
Oh, what a lovely return it will be,
Slipping quietly from there to here,
among whispers and memories,
To find you again, my eternal love,
with your beautiful smile
Waiting always for me
It’s beautifully sad and haunting and so beyond her years. Penny’s old soul seems to be trapped, constantly fighting for escape.
As I hold the poem, a warm, electric tingle zips through my limbs like a lightning bolt. Tiny hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stand up.
The wind blows my hair across my face, and I swear I feel Brianna’s touch on my lips and catch the long-gone scent of her perfume. For a brief moment, my heart races. My breathing stills. I smile the smile that’s just for her as if she’s there with me again.
And oh, what a lovely return that would be.
But, of course, she’s not there. She’ll never return. It’s just me and my dog and a poem from a little girl who somehow has the ability to sprinkle magic on my soul.
Chapter 11
PENNY - 2023
My mom is a great cook. Unfortunately, she also hates to cook. She loves takeout, though, so I usually have one of many tattered menus put in front of me about four times a week. Last night, my veggie fried rice was accompanied by a stale chocolate fortune cookie that read: You will soon meet someone who will change your life. These cookies aren’t exactly a culinary treat, but I once heard the fortune will only come true if you eat it. So I quickly chewed it, chasing it down with a gulp of iced tea. Because I very much want to meet someone who will change my life. I mean, who could pass an epic prediction like that up? After dinner, I placed the intriguing strip of paper in an old maple box I keep in my closet, where it will live with other random trinkets and treasures that are mostly useless but also too special to throw away.
I believe hints of what's to come in life are hidden all around us, sometimes even in the oddest, most unexpected places. Some might come as whispers that only we can hear. We just have to take the time to look and listen. And wait.
I’m not quite sure why, but I always seem to be looking and listening.
Heather, Olivia, and Ava are waiting by the old tree on the front lawn of the high school. They squeal when they see me approaching, and before I know it, I’m caught in a smothering, giggling, four-way hug.
Laughing, I do my best to hug them back.
“I just saw you guys two days ago,” I say when they release me.
“But it’s the first day of school!” Ava exclaims. “Aren’t you excited? We’re juniors!”
“Just two more years to go,” Heather adds as if that’s not practically a lifetime.
“I’m more excited about your hair,” I say to Ava. “It came out gorgeous!” Her natural light-brown hair is now a deep chestnut ribboned with caramel highlights that I’m totally jealous of. My mom won’t let me dye my hair until I’m eighteen, so until then, I’m stuck with boring red hair.
