Page 38 of Love is a Game

But Pen stays quiet, lost in thought.

Eventually, she sets her drink aside, reaching for her phone. She scrolls through her camera roll, then hands it to me.

“Is it weird I took pictures?” she asks.

“No, of course not,” I reply.

But as I flick through image after image of the tree, the flowers, the notes left behind, I start to wonder.

Maybe itisstrange. Or maybe it’s just her way of processing the reality of her loss.

She still hasn’t seen her mom’s body. Maybe these photos are her way of trying to grasp what’s happened—proof, in pixels, that her mother is really gone.

Over dinner, Pen becomes a little more chatty, asking Mom about a women’s shelter in Newcombe.

“It’s not actually in the township,” Mom explains. “The address is kept confidential for safety reasons. Domestic violence, custody disputes—there are a lot of situations where women need a secure place to go.”

Dad nods. “Even though times have changed…we have a pregnant student at Blue Mountain High, and another raising an infant. But single mothers, especially minors, still face so many challenges. Well, I don’t have to tell you, Penelope.”

“What do you mean?” Pen asks, pausing mid-motion, her fork hovering over the small portion of potato salad on her plate.

Dad hesitates, glancing at Mom for backup. She does her signature deep breath and eye flutter—classic signs that he’s put his foot in it.

“I think Keith is referring to your mother’s struggles,” Mom says, gently. “You know your father was…troubled. I imagine Caitlyn had a hard time staying with him as long as she did. And it wasn’t until your grandfather passed away that she finally came back to Blue Mountain Lake. Your grandmother wasn’t exactly thrilled at first, but she did the right thing, taking in your mother and you.”

Pen doesn’t say anything right away, just keeps staring at her plate.

“I remember Mom and Dad’s arguments,” she says, finally, her voice thin. “The cheating, the drinking. I mean, Dad could be so much fun…but even when he was in a good mood, there was always something beneath it. Like a clear sky before a storm. You couldn’t relax because you could sense it brewing, even before it crashed into life, disrupting everything.”

She presses her thumb against her temple, and I notice the weariness in her eyes.

“You think Mom deliberately came backaftermy grandfather died? That he would have refused to help us?” she asks tentatively.

Mom takes a moment, as if choosing her words carefully.

“Your grandparents were very religious, Penelope. I don’t think he turned his back on your mother out of malice. He was a proud man, deeply anchored in his beliefs. It’s just…sad that he couldn’t find a way to reconcile with her before he passed.”

Mom exhales softly. “Your grandmother was strong-minded too, but when you came into her life, she softened. She adored you, Penelope. I believe your grandfather would have too, if only he had let himself.”

Pen gives a tight smile. “Grandmawasactually good to me. She taught me to sew on her old Singer machine. Crochet, too. But…while we’re on the subject—” Her voice has a challenging edge. “Why do you think my mother was so cold and unfeeling?”

Mom, caught off guard, sets down her cutlery. She and Dad exchange a glance.

“Pen, I’m not sure that’s how we saw your mom—” I start.

But she cuts me off with a sharp, cynical smile. “Oh, no? Tuck, do you know who helped me when I got my first period?” She doesn’t wait for an answer. “Susan. I went to her at school when it happened. Do you remember?” She turns to Mom.

Mom presses her lips together and nods.

Dad sighs, swiping a napkin over his face.

“My mother never told me a damn thing about what to expect,” Pen says, voice taut. “All she cared about after that life milestone was making sure I didn’t get pregnant. And that I studied hard enough to get out of this town, away from her.”

“Oh, Penelope, I don’t think that’s quite right,” Mom says.

But Pen barrels on.

“She wasn’t even friends with you, Susan, and you lived right next door! She wasn’t friends withanyone.” Her eyes flash. “So what I want to know is, who the hell left all those flowers at the crash site?”

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