Page 125 of Love is a Game

“All week?” My voice holds more anger than I expected. “Try twenty eight fucking years, Pen! From the day you moved in next door, I’ve been trying to gain your trust….trying to prove myself to you. Do you think it’s normal to take your entire birthday haul of toys over to the neighbor’s fence line? I did that to get your attention. To encourage you to talk to me. Our whole lives I’ve been breaking my balls to have you let me in—and all these years later it hasn’t made a single fucking difference.”

Now, as I look out over the glinting high rises, it morphs into an expanse of rippling blue…and of standing on a rocky edge overlooking an impressive drop.

“Tuck—” Pen starts.

“No. Listen. You remember going out to Eagle’s Cliff and that secluded section beyond? With the oat grass and overhanging ridge?”

“What? Well, yes—I tore the ass out of my denims sliding down that rock face.”

“And remember the first time we went there—how you were too scared to jump off the ledge into the water? But you had to do it because I dared you?”

“Yes.”

“And I held your hand so we could jump together?” I remind her.

A pause. Then her voice returns softly: “I remember.”

“What I never told you, Pen, was that I was scared too. It was a big drop. But we faced it together.” I swallow. “That’s what I want every day. You and me against the elements. I want that when you’re hurting, you let me in, instead of shutting me out like everyone else. Like I’m just anyone else.”

A sniffle through the phone. “Tuck…” Her voice is taut. “I want that too.”

“It doesn’t feel that way. And I can’t keep at it, Pen.”

I stare out at the view, the smog, the congestion. The dense expanse that has never felt this empty before. Without her here.

“Maybe I could have continued the way we’ve been all this time,” I say. “Never realizing how much more I wanted. But then you started talking about kids and being a mother, and it hit me that I want to be with you on that adventure. I want to do life full-scale with you, Pen. I want the whole scenario. That’s what I always wanted. But how many times do you think I should keep trying when you just shut me down? As if you can’t trust that I would never let you down.”

She sniffles. “I want to let you in…and I know I can trust you; of course I do.”

“I wish I could believe that, Pen. I really do. But when you say the things like you did before I left it makes it pretty damn hard.”

“Tuck. I went to see my father.”

I turn my back to the view, focusing on those unexpected words.

“You did?”

“Yes. Because I want to understand why I mess things up all the time. The anxiety I carry. The fear of us not working out…”

“What happened?”

“I think it helped me understand why they separated. That it wasn’t my fault. And that Dad genuinely seems to care about me. And he wants to create a relationship.”

“Pen, that’s amazing. How do you feel about that?”

“I think…I want to try.” Her voice gains momentum. “Tuck—there are all these emails Mom wrote to Dad and his wife, Laurie. About me! For years and years. All about the stuff I was doing, my business, the awards I won…even my apartment in New York. There are literally hundreds of emails. I stopped myself from binge-reading them and decided to read just one every day. And…they’re so detailed and…I think they were proud of me after all.”

Now I really wish I could see her face. “Pen, that’s awesome.”

“And I know I have a lot to work through. But that’s a kind of breakthrough, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. It is.”

“And I’m willing to try, Tuck. To stop hiding my insecurities. My fuck ups.”

“Okay. Well, then—where does that leave us? When are you coming back?”

“That’s another thing.” The uncertainty in her voice returns. “My business is in trouble, Tuck. Not like the early days with teething problems that I had to iron out. This runs deeper. I still need to sit down and crunch the numbers. But I already know the main problem.”

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