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OCTOBER 2010
“Thanks, Grace. I’ll email you after I finish my analysis of the data.”
Ending the call to her AP psych partner, Penny closes her book and stretches. She’s been at this all day. It’s a rare Saturday that she doesn’t have a babysitting job or a shift at the theater, and honestly, she isn’t upset about it. She’s working all day for the Landrys tomorrow and has a long shift at the theater later. She needs this time to study.
“Penelope!”
Rubbing her temples, Penny groans. “If my mother would leave me alone, it would go faster.” She opens the door. “What?”
“I need your signature on something.”
Closing her bedroom door, Penny bounds down the stairs. Miranda eyes her from head to toe, refraining from the snide comment that most likely sits upon her pursed lips. Her mother hasn’t been as acerbic since the Homecoming incident. However, the glares still live on. Penny has become immune to them. There is no pleasing Miranda Ramsay.
“What is it?”
Miranda wrinkles her nose. “Just some bank thing for your dad’s pension stuff.”
Penny frowns. She’s never heard about this. Taking the pen from her mother, she begins to peruse the contents.
“What are you doing?”
As Miranda’s eyes go wild, Penny arches an eyebrow. “I’m reading it. I’m not signing anything I don’t understand, Mother.” As she returns to the paragraph about a specified amount set aside for college, she turns it over. “Wait, I have a college fund?”
With a hiss, Miranda rips the paper out of Penny’s hands. “Give me that damn thing!”
“What? No! What is that?”
“Nothing!”
Penny fists the pen as anger settles in her chest. She’s seen this look before. The deviousness of this woman runs as red as the devil’s. “Give that to me. Now.”
“Don’t you dare disrespect me!” Miranda clutches Penny’s arm. “I don’t care if you’re seventeen, you still live in my house and you’ll do as I say. Now sign this damn paper!”
Jerking out of her mother’s grasp, Penny throws the pen on the table. “Make me.”
Miranda’s eyes narrow. She raises her arm. It’s too late to react. The sting of Miranda’s backhand, perfected with years of weekly tennis lessons, ricochets off Penny’s cheek. The pain radiates through every nerve in her neck.
Clenching her jaw, she whips her head back and infiltrates her mother’s space without batting an eye. She’s grown quite a bit the last two years and now towers over her mother by two inches.
Surprise races across Miranda’s face as Penny stands toe to toe with her. “You will never hit me again. Do you understand?”
Miranda sneers. “You don’t scare me.”
Penny crosses her arms over her chest. “No? Maybe Colt should know about all the crap you’ve put me through the last three years.” She points at the paper still clutched in Miranda’s hand. “If I mention this to him, what would he say?”
A flush steals across Miranda’s face as she swallows. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Penny cocks her head. “Wouldn’t I? I don’t owe you a damn thing, Mother.”
Taking a step back, Miranda balls the paper in her hand dramatically and tosses it in the trash. “Whatever. Do what you want. You’ve always been a stubborn brat.” Turning on her heels, she stomps into the kitchen and out the back door. As the car pulls out of the drive, the tires squeal.
Penny digs through the trash and smooths the crumpled paper. Whatever this thing is, her name is on it. She squints at it, unable to decipher the legalese. It’s completely Greek. The only words she understands are pension and college fund. And that’s what scares her.
She exits the front door and stands on the porch.
Mrs. Donavon is home.
Slipping into her shoes, she takes her keys and walks down the block to the Donovan house. Much as she fears running into Captain Donovan, she has no choice. She needs to know what this form is. Desperate times and all that.
As she ascends the porch stairs, she glances around, praying nobody can see her. She knocks. Seconds later, the door swings wide. Dread eats away at her stomach.
Of course, he’s home.
Captain Donovan hovers on the other side, his lips curling into a snarl. “Ms. Ramsay. Is there something you need?”
She swallows hard. “Yes, sir. Is Mrs. Donovan here? I need to speak with her.”
His brow arches, his look condescending as he mutters, “Just a moment.” He closes the door.
Sweat dots Penny’s brow. If she had anyone else she could turn to, she would. But Mrs. Donovan is a smart woman. She’d helped Penny muck through the difficult forms she’d filled out when she studied from home.
The storm door creaks open, and Mrs. Donavan stands on the other side. Her eyes brighten. “Penny! It’s nice to see you.”
“Yes, ma’am. I, um...” Penny holds up the form. “I need your help.”
Mrs. Donovan supports the screen and waves Penny in. “Of course, dear. Would you like something to drink?”
As Captain Donovan eyes her suspiciously from the living room, Penny shakes her head. “No thank you. I can’t stay long.”
More like I’m not welcome. I never have been.
Giving her husband a sidelong glance, Mrs. Donovan grumbles, “Let’s sit in the dining room.”
As they settle at the table, Penny places the wrinkled paper in front of Mrs. Donovan. The woman frowns. “What is this?”
Penny bites the side of her lip. “I don’t know. I was hoping you could tell me. My mother wanted me to sign it, but I refuse until I know what it is.”
A grin alights Mrs. Donovan’s kind face. “Smart girl.” She places her glasses on her nose. After silently reading the form, she frowns. “This is a bank withdrawal form for your college pension. When your father died, you and Colton both received money to help pay for your education from the Fraternal Brotherhood of Police.” She eyes Penny warily. “Are you making any payments toward college?”
Pain pierces Penny’s heart. It’s just as she suspected. Her mother is trying to drain her college fund. She shakes her head.
Rubbing her temples, Mrs. Donovan sighs. “Dear Lord, Miranda.” She glances up. Penny presses her lips together, hoping to keep the tears at bay. Mrs. Donovan returns the form to Penny. “Have you told your brother about this? I think he should know.”
“No. I don’t want to worry him about things if I don’t have to. He has a lot going on.”
Mrs. Donovan arches an eyebrow. “Is that why you lied to human services when you were younger? To save your brother?” Penny stands, but Mrs. Donovan takes her hands. Tears form in the woman’s eyes. “Dear heart, I wish I could have done more for you.”
Mrs. Donovan pulls her into her arms, and Penny’s lips waver. All of a sudden, she bursts into tears. As she cries, she thinks of all the times this wonderful woman has been there for her. That hurts more.
“What in the hell is going on?”
As Captain Donovan blasts into the room like a tornado, demanding and authoritative as he always is, Penny cries harder. Mrs. Donovan brushes a hand across her curls. “Sh, it’s okay honey.”
“Caroline...”
Mrs. Donovan snaps back, “This doesn’t concern you, Joe.”
Penny wipes her tears. Stepping out of Mrs. Donovan’s arms, she tucks the paper in her pocket. She’s overstayed her welcome.
Ducking her head, she sniffles. “I’m sorry I caused a commotion, sir. Thank you for helping me, Mrs. Donovan. I understand everything perfectly now.” Before the woman can stop her, Penny bolts for the door.
As she walks toward her house, she steels her spine. She could call Colt, but it isn’t worth it. He doesn’t need anything else to worry about. He’s graduating in the spring and trying to get into grad school. He’s also looking for a new apartment because his manipulative witch of an ex took his heart and threw it to the wolves for dinner.
Colt can’t save me anymore.
She’s spent the last four years relying upon herself emotionally. It’s time to take responsibility for the rest of her life.
“I can do this. I don’t need anyone.”