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Is the touch her way of reminding me something happened last night? Or is it just as innocent as the hundreds of touches we’ve shared over the years?
I’m probably reading way too much into all this.
“Are you going to make a headstone for Cherry?” Lily asks.
Of course I’m going to make something epic for my dog. “Yeah. I have some ideas.”
“You could have her taxidermized. Since she’s been out in the cold, and it only happened yesterday, it’s not too late—”
“Lily!” Penny interjects, dropping her fork onto the table. “No. That would be horrible.”
“Why? Lots of people do it. I’ve read about it. We could preserve her and put her right over there where she used to sleep.”
“I don’t think I could deal with that,” I say. “Let’s just let her resting place be in the yard.”
The idea of Cherry’s body forever sitting in the kitchen, as sentimental as that might be, makes me feel sick. I have enough issues letting the dead go already. I don’t need them propped up in the house.
“Your obsession with dead things is getting super weird,” Penny tells Lily.
“It’s not weird,” Lily counters. “People have been preserving and displaying the dead for years and years. It’s very popular in some cultures.”
I nod vaguely. “That’s true, but—”
“I think it’s totally bad timing to talk about now,” Penny interrupts. “Especially over breakfast when we wanted to cheer your dad up.”
Lily swallows a mouthful of waffle. “Sorry, Dad.”
“It’s okay. I respect your macabre passion. I’m just not in a good headspace right now.”
My daughter nods. “You have to go through the stages of grief.”
I’ve been drowning in the stages of grief for half my life.
I wish I knew where Lily’s fascination with death came from. I don’t know if it’s something she picked up from her twisted grandparents or if it’s because her mother died right after childbirth. Or maybe she watched too many horror films growing up.
She puts her dishes in the sink. “I’m going to go upstairs and unpack my bag.”
After Lily leaves the room, Penny gets up to rinse the dishes. I stand next to her and take each dish from her to put in the dishwasher.
“Did something happen last night?” I ask her, keeping my voice low.
“Something like what?”
“Between us.”
She turns to me and leans her hip against the counter. “You don’t remember?”
“It’s a bit cloudy. Did we sleep together? Or did I dream that?”
A teasing smile tips her lips. The perfect lips I kissed last night and have to look away from right now so I don’t do it again.
“Do you usually dream about me, Fox?”
“No.” I scoff. “Stop being a little smart-ass.”
“We slept next to each other because we were both sad and lonely.” She tilts her head, a slight line creasing her forehead. “You seriously don’t remember that?”
“I do. I was just—”
“What? Hoping it was a dream?”
“Yeah.”
Her nose scrunches. My heart pounds like a bass drum, echoing in my ears.
“Why would you want it to be a dream?” she asks, voice full of innocence.
“For millions of obvious reasons, but let’s just go with the top three. You’re only eighteen, you’re Lily’s best friend, and your parents entrusted me with your care.” I punctuate each one by holding a finger up.
“We were only comforting each other in grief. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”
There is, though. Because that hand massage turned way too sensual. Then there were kisses. Little kisses, with no tongue, but still—kisses that had enough power to turn me on and still continue to haunt my thoughts. Then we fell asleep hugging and I slept better than I have in years. All things I’ve only ever done with my wife.
All things I want to do with Penny again.
I’m only slightly reassured by the fact that she wasn’t in the bed when I woke up. For all I know, she could’ve disappeared ten minutes after I fell asleep.
“Nothing happened, Alex. It’s okay to comfort someone you care about, right?”
The way she says it so innocently makes me feel like I’m being an overreactive asshole. Not socializing for eighteen years has made me completely dysfunctional. Especially around females, apparently.
I nod. “Of course.”
Her eyes linger on my face, and an odd feeling rustles in my stomach like there’s more to be said.
But right then, the back door flies open and Kelley slides in like Kramer from a Seinfeld episode.
Perfect timing.
“Hey. I didn’t know you were stopping by today,” I say.
“A little birdie sent me a text, so I thought I’d come by to make sure you’re okay.”
Penny smiles knowingly. “I’m gonna go work on my paper.”
When she’s gone, Kelley hugs me and slaps my back. “I’m so sorry about Cherry, man. She was the coolest dog.”
“She was. I’m gonna miss the hell out of her.”
He pulls back and holds on to my shoulders, studying me. “You doing okay?”
