Chapter Nine: Doubt
It was a rough night for all of us.
"Patty?" Penny called out as she entered her home. She felt lighter than she had in months, her whole being so weightless she thought she might just up and fly away. It was a relief that Patty knew about her relationship now; a large weight off of her back. Of course, letting Patty know about Jean Pierre had been hard, to some degree, because she knew how much Patty loved her father. And she knew how she would have felt if her mom had started dating again when her father died; she had only been eighteen, a year younger than Patty was now. So she didn't blame Patty at all for disliking Jean. Maybe someday in the future, Patty would be able to understand. God forbid she end up a widow at the age of forty, as Penny had, or even as young as forty-eight, as her mother had, but if she did, perhaps she too, would date again, and understand.
"Patty?" she said again. But instead of her daughter appearing to greet her, her mother came out of the living room, hushing her.
"Patty's sleeping," said Patience. "She's had a rough night."
"Yes, well, she's young, Mom," said Penny, putting her purse on the table and heading towards the kitchen. "In a few years admitting she has a crush on a boy won't be such a big deal."
"Patty likes a boy?" asked Patience, momentarily intrigued. "Who?"
Penny made a face. "Victor Bennett," she said, entering the kitchen and grabbing the tea kettle off of the stove. "She met him at Buddy's." She turned to the sink to put water in the kettle, but stopped suddenly, turning back. "You didn't know?"
"Of course I didn't know, Penny. Use your head."
"Well then what did you mean, 'she's had a rough night?'"
Patience sank down into one of the kitchen chairs. "Warlock attack."
"What?" said Penny. She abandoned the kettle completely. "She was attacked? Is she okay?"
"She's fine, now, Penny. Don't worry. Anne healed her."
Penny's eyes widened considerably and she leaned against the counter for support. "She was hurt?" she managed to ask in a somewhat strangled voice.
Patience regarded her daughter carefully. "I saw the whole thing," she said quietly. "He was waiting in the yard. She wasn't paying attention. He threw an energy ball and she went down."
"Oh, God," said Penny.
"He had an athamé out," Patience continued, "but I surprised him. Froze him and stole it, but he fought through the freeze and got away before I could stab him." She paused for a moment. "I'm not quite as fast as I used to be."
Penny shook her head, and then abruptly stood up straight and left the room. She slipped into the living room quietly, and sunk down onto the coffee table, watching her daughter sleep. Patience had covered her with a blanket, and Patty had one hand thrown over her head, the other across her chest. Suddenly Penny felt like she was choking; Patty wasn't lying there, nineteen, no. She was five again, running in the house crying because Molly Henderson had pushed her down while they were playing hop scotch.
Where had the time gone?
Penny reached over and grabbed Patty's hand briefly, giving it a small squeeze, then she stood and walked back to the kitchen where she sat down heavily. Patience had gotten up and finished making the tea.
"Are you okay?" her mother asked.
Penny shrugged. "She's my only baby," she said.
Patience nodded, but didn't comment on this statement. Instead she said, "Patty told me you were on a date."
Penny sat up, suddenly a little more defensive. She didn't know how her mother would feel about Jean Pierre, and the last thing she wanted was to be judged.
"Kind of," she said vaguely. "It's just some guy I met in the grocery store."
"Who you're dating?"
Penny's eyes met her mom's defiantly, but before she could speak, the tea kettle began to shriek, and Patience turned away to pour the tea.
"It's okay, you know," said Patience, once she had the tea set and she had settled into the chair next to Penny. "To be dating."
"I loved Allen."
Patience smiled. "I know," she said.
Then, in a smaller voice, "You didn't date. After Dad."
Penny wrapped her hands around the mug and took a deep breath. She was dangerously close to breaking down. She shouldn't be breaking down. She wasn't the type of person who broke down.
Patience sighed loudly. "I dated before Dad," she said.
"That's not exactly the same, Mom," said Penny. "You weren't married before Dad."
"Oh, Penelope,"said Patience. She reached out and touched Penny's cheek lovingly, comfortingly. "You'll be fine," she said. "I have no doubt in my mind. You've been practically self-sufficient since you were born. And you're not exactly the type who needs approval. Just follow your heart."
Penny smiled. "Thanks," she said.