My mother always describes Uncle Butch as being a "no nonsense" kind of man. He is the eldest of their family, a successful owner of one of the largest car dealerships in Tennessee, and rich. My aunt Louise always describes him as a "wealthy" kind of man. He is also cold, straight-forward, and doesn't deal well with children. I, on the other hand, can never describe him – probably because I don't know him well. Uncle Butch never comes around, unless there was a problem to be solved, like my father leaving, the first time Two-Bit spent the night in jail, and most recently when my grandma died. I swallow and fix my hair in the mirror one more time before deciding that I look smart enough to sit in my uncle's presence.
Two-Bit steps out of his room across the hall as soon as I step out if mine and we stare at one another for a moment. "I didn't realize we were wearing costumes," I say, nodding towards his collared shirt and tie.
"Har-har" he says before showing me a choice finger, "how long you think we're going to be here?"
"Why you gotta hot date?" I ask as we descend the stairs together.
"Donna and I are going to Buck's," he says with a shrug of his shoulders. "You and Pony?"
"Mark and Bryon's hopefully," I tell him. "I think Pony's already there."
"You two are gettin' pretty serious," Two-Bit nudges me with my elbow and I push him away.
"Mind your business." I warn and he lifts his hands in mock surrender. "What do you think Uncle Butch wants?" I ask, dropping my voice as we peek from the bottom of the stairs to the closed kitchen door.
"Our souls," Two-Bit sighs before nudging me again. I look at him and he bites his lip, "If mama is sick…"
"Then we agree to do what we can," I finish for him. "More shifts at the bookstore, a real job for you, and lots of rest and good food for mama."
"And if mama isn't sick?" He asks and I smile.
"Then we really are as dumb as week look," we laugh and walk into the kitchen together.
Uncle Butch is taller than I remember, and I find myself shrinking behind my brother as he shakes our hands. He looks over us once and then twice before giving a slight head nod of approval. Uncle Butch has almost white hair and wears thin framed glasses over his bright blue eyes. I figured at one point in his life, he was handsome, but now all I could see were the hard lines of his face tucked deep between his brows and around his mouth. Now, he just looks like some child's very unhappy grandfather.
"Keith," my uncle says in a very no-nonsense voice. "You look good, healthy. Still not working?"
I cough out a laugh and immediately look down my at shoes, doing my best to stifle anymore giggles from slipping out.
"And my niece," Uncle Butch says moving around Two-Bit to look at me. "Penelope, you look so much like your mother." I force a smile, knowing that I look more like my father than anyone, but thank him anyways.
"How are you, Uncle Butch?" I ask him as he gives me a small and impersonal side hug.
"Well, dear girl, thank you." He says as he pulls out the head of the table chair at our dining room table. I stop myself from saying that's my mother's spot and sit across from her, instead of next to her.
"Still have a 4.0 GPA?" My uncle asks as my Aunt Louise serves us the pot roast my mother slaved over all day, "That's more than enough, Louise." My aunt makes a face behind his back but moves onto to serve the rest of us without any fuss.
"It's a 3.8," I say with a meek smile. "I took a cooking class that was a little out of my skill range."
"Did we learn not to take shortcuts?" My uncle asks, inspecting his first bite of the pot roast with a careful eyes before permitting it into his mouth.
My mouth falls open slightly, but my brother makes a point to nudge me before I can say anything snarky in return. "Yes, sir," I say before take a bit of my own food to drop the conversation quickly.
We sit in silence for almost the entire dinner, the only sound being our utensils scraping across the blue China my grandmother had left behind. I watch my mother and her siblings carefully, waiting for one of them to drop the bomb on us. My mother hasn't looked up from her plate or touched her food and I swallow the lump forming in my throat quickly. Choking slightly, before sipping on my untouched water with another glance in my mother's directions.
"Well, kids," my uncle finally says once his plate is cleared. "I'm sure you're wondering why you had to miss your plans tonight."
"Nothin' wrong with some good ol'family bonding," Two-Bit says, but I can hear the tension in his voice. The slight worry for whatever my uncle is going to say next.
"Thank you, son." My mother says before she sighs. The tears welling in her eyes before she can even begin to form the words. I feel my hand seek out Two-Bits and once again we are small, sitting at the table just like this, being told our father isn't coming back for us.
"You might have noticed," my aunt continues for our mother, reaching to brush my mom's hand that is resting on the table, "that your mother and I have been gone very often."
"Mama," Two-Bit says, "we want to hear it from you."
"I know, my boy," she says with a nod. "You aunt, as I'm sure you noticed, has moved in and your uncle is here to help us decide what's next."
The seconds that pass feel like hours and I find myself leaning towards her, hanging on her words with some small shot of hope.
"Just know that the two of you are the best thing that's ever happened to me," Mama states before the tears starts to stream down her face, "and I don't want to ever leave you two. But, earlier this summer, I found a lump in my breast and well, it didn't take long for it to spread elsewhere."
"Mama," Two-Bit says again, but I shush him. If he interrupted, mama wouldn't tell us the whole story.
"Aunt Louise has been driving me all around the state of Oklahoma for treatment, your uncle Butch is helping with the bills, and I am – I am not getting better." She presses her lips together, like trying to stop a scream from escaping, "and I don't think I will."
I can feel the earth stop spinning and feel my hand drop from Two-Bits. We stare with open mouths, slack in our chairs, and I can't muster a single tear, but every fear that I had had the last week no longer feels as tangible as this. Mama is sick and mama is dying.
"Why didn't you tell us earlier?" I ask, unsure of where my eyes should fall.
"My girl," mama says with a shaky voice, "I didn't want you to know until, we were sure."
"But we could have helped you." I say, feeling that same heavy lump drag against my neck. Now it felt unswallowable, the grief sticking to it like honey.
"You two have so much to do with your lives, I didn't want to take anything away yet." She explains with a small shrug.
"We deserved to know," my eyes stay down, and I finally notice the change in skin color between my aunt and my mother. Where my aunt was pink and flush, my mother looks ghostly, so pale her skin looks blue.
"Well," my uncle chimes in, "now we can tell the two of you how you can help."
Two-Bit and I wait patiently for my uncle to sigh and adjust his glasses. He looks at my mother and aunt and briefly swallows and I wonder if he feels like a child again too.
"Keith," he starts, "I'm offering you a job at my dealership in Tennessee. I'll teach you the ropes and maybe one day you can take over. It'll help with the bills and whatever house payments your mother still has. Plus, you can hopefully start up a solid savings." When Two-Bit says nothing, my uncle continues, "I offered to help sell the house, but your mama wouldn't let me – so if we can get you on your feet during all this, than maybe you can buy the house outright once – " my uncle stops himself and looks at my mom one more time, "once the time is right."
"And Penelope," my aunt chimes in from across the table. Her eyes quickly searching my face, "will stay here with us and finish school. Then Uncle Butch will help you pay for college, make sure we can get you on your feet too."
"What if Two-Bit doesn't want to go to Tennessee?" I ask after what feels like minutes of silence.
"There aren't very many options out there for a delinquent." My uncle says and I feel my face twist.
"He's not a delinquent," I mutter the same time as mother, and we glance at each other across the table. "There are plenty of jobs in Tulsa – in Oklahoma."
"I know you're worried Nellie," my uncle says reaching across the table to pat my arm. I pull away from him quickly and look at my brother. Who is for once, silent and serious. "but it's time for Keith to grow up. Become the man of his family."
"Two-Bit," my mother says gently.
"You don't have to go." I say before she can say anything. "We can figure it out here – together, like the three of us always have."
My brother finally looks at me and I feel his hand grab mine under the table once more. He gives me a quick squeeze and a weak smile before saying, "I'll go. When can I start?"
"What?" I say, finally feeling the tears start to spill.
"I'm proud of you, Keith." My uncle says, standing up to shake his hand. "Let's go out on the porch, talk in private."
"What are you doing?" I hiss, standing up to look at them.
"Nellie," my mother says, but I wave her off.
"Mama's sick – you don't just get to leave!" I yell as the hot tears stream down my face. I watch as my brother sucks in a deep breath, looking down at his feet. "She needs us here, Two-Bit!"
"Penelope," my uncle warns, "I don't expect you to understand, but –"
"I'm not talking to you!" I yell, brushing the tears off my face, feeling suddenly embarrassed and childish as everyone stares. "You're not even part of our family. You don't get to make decisions for us!"
My aunt tries to envelop me in a hug, but I wiggle from her grasp, stepping back towards the door and away from them. I have never felt so betrayed – lied to. My brother takes a careful step forward, and I back closer to the door, ready to run. I look over at my mama, who is still seated, her own eyes filled with tears.
"You said wouldn't leave me!" I finally say, letting a heavy sob escape.
"I know, Nell," Two-Bit says gently, "but it's for the best."
Suddenly I am running, pushing through the kitchen door, the front door, and slamming the gate shut behind me. My shoes hit the pavement hard and I don't know where I am going, but the cool night air hits my face and the cicadas yell angrily, as I cut through the neighbors side yard and alleyways to evade whoever tried to follow me out. I keep running, screaming of my lungs, and the heavy pounding of my heart in my chest. How could they do that to us? How could my mother let them? How could Two-Bit agree to leave me? To leave mama?
I hit the ground hard, skidding across the sidewalk, and landing on my face. I lie there for a moment, gasping for air and trying to settle my sobs. We were happy this morning. I didn't even realize it. I had spent the whole summer, not realizing it. My mother was withering in front of me and I was too busy to even notice.
I pick myself up and inspect the damage to my knees and hand. Briefly touching my chin to find the slightest bit of blood on my fingers. I suck in a deep breath and sit on the curb, tucking my knees up to my chest and hugging myself. Looking around, I realize I am not too far away from Mark and Bryon's. I can use their phone to call Pony and ask him to take me home – in fact he might already be there waiting for me.
I limp slightly the rest of the way to Mark and Bryon's, rubbing my arms and wishing I had brought a sweater. The summer rains were refusing to let up in the evening and I please a little to the universe to give me a small break.
"Damn Penny," Mark says from the porch when I finally reach their house. "Angel didn't find ya again, did she?"
"No," I say grabbing onto the porch railing and steadying myself. "Is Pony here yet?"
"I ain't seen him," Mark says, stepping off the porch to look at my hands, "what happened?"
"I fell, it's no big feal." I snap, pulling my hands from his and crossing my arms over my chest.
"Come on," he says nodding for the door, "we'll get'cha a drink, get'cha cleaned up, and find your boyfriend."
Just like last time, the party is in full swing. I ignore the looks from everyone as they stare at my bleeding face and follow Mark down the short hallway. He unlocks a door and nods for me to enter. Mark's room is small, but surprisingly clean, except for a few left over and empty beer bottles.
"Sit down," he says motioning towards his bed. "I'll be back with the first aid kit."
He shuts the door behind him and I sigh, looking closer at my hands and knees and trying to brush out the gravel and dirt. I catch myself in Mark's mirror and frown. I look a mess, with my makeup streaked down my face and my chin bloodied and cut up. I have to laugh a little bit and wonder how many other people thought that Angela Shepard caught up to me again.
Angela Shepard. To think that she was once my biggest problem.
Mark returns with the first aid kit and two bottles of beer. He hands me one before sitting down on the bed next to me and popping open the first aid kit.
"Now," he says as he examines my hands once more, "how did you fall?"
"I was running," I say with a shrug of my shoulders. It wasn't a lie, but I wasn't quite comfortable telling Mark the whole truth.
"Thinkin' of joining the track team with Curtis this year?" He asks and I smile a little, before wincing as he wipes my hands clean with some alcohol.
"Something like that," I say, "don't know how successful I'll be."
"I'm sure Curtis will put in a good word," he says as he wraps my hands carefully. "You two are good together," he continues with a nod, "I don't think he's ever looked twice at girl before you."
This makes me blush and we stay in silence as Mark finishes up my hands and hands me a beer. "You don't gotta drink it," he says when he notices the slight frown on my face, "the cold will just help with the ache in your hands."
"Thank you," I tell him as he takes a quick swig from his own beer, "and thank you for helping me. I needed a friend tonight."
"Any girl of Curtis is a friend of mine," he says before rummaging back in the first aid kit to find some band-aids for my chin and knees.
"How come you don't have a girlfriend?" I ask him and he gives me a curious look. "Sorry, I just mean, you're real kind. I think any girl would be lucky to be with you."
"Guess I ain't found the right one yet," he says, yellow eyes dancing as he studies my face, "maybe put in a good word for me with the girls around town. I might like to take someone pretty to the prom this year."
"I don't think you need me to make that happen," I laugh.
He chuckles just as he starts to dab my chin with alcohol with one hand and holding my face steady with the other. I can't help, but to take this time to really look at his face. His has a strong jaw, with a slight faded scar across his chin. His nose is strong and his lips full. He is handsome, but I had never really taken the time to notice. By far though, his most striking feature are his yellow – almost golden eyes. They dance with a sense of danger and I know that he would not have any issue finding that date.
"Do you know if Pony's here?" I ask and he shakes his head.
"Bryon said he hasn't shown up yet, but not of the track boys have. I'm sure they're still at the community center." When I don't respond, he continues, "Why didn't you go to the dance? Bryon said you two are professionals or somethin' like that."
"Somethin' like that," I laugh and suddenly remember why didn't get to go. I don't want to tell Mark how my life and family just seemed to crumble down in front of me, so instead I shrug and just say, "My uncle's in town. My mama wanted a – family dinner."
"I guess that's a fair reason to miss a dance. You close with you uncle?"
I wince at the question, and pull away pretending like the alcohol on my face stings. He waits patiently, before pulling me back to him to hold pressure with a soft rag to stop the bleeding, "No, but I guess my brother is."
We talk a little bit more about my family and the upcoming school year. I am very careful of my words, doing my best to avoid anymore topic about the dinner we had this evening. Mark finally nods and turns my face from side to side, examining his band-aids on my face. Very gently, he uses his other hand to brush a stray hair from my face and I feel my voice catch.
"There you go," he whispers, "pretty as picture, Penny." I'm caught off guard and begin to wonder what Mark's true intentions are. If he had one too many beers and don't know what he's doing or if I gave all the wrong signals following him in here.
I can feel the protest on the tip of my tongue, but I freeze when I hear the bedroom door swing open, causing me to jump away. Ponyboy is in the doorway, looking at me and then Mark, before settling his eyes back on me again. I feel my blood run cold when he says, "What the fuck is going on in here?"
A/N: I hope you enjoy :)
