“So …” I tapped on Ryan’s notebook. He looked up at me. “I’ve been thinking a lot about choices lately. You know? Like the decisions that we make.”
“Okay.” He pushed his history book aside with a sigh, like he was annoyed with me. “Go ahead.”
“Do you ever have any regrets? About anything?”
There. I threw out my line to see if he would take the bait.
“Of course — don’t we all?” He went back to writing in his notebook. “We have to live with our mistakes. There’s no point in torturing yourself over it.”
No point torturing yourself.
Thursday.
Decisions.
I kept going over and over in my head how to make things right with Ryan.
You’d think with everything that had happened, we’d be closer than ever, but something was wrong.
He wouldn’t talk to me. Sometimes he wouldn’t even look at me.
He kept insisting that he was “fine,” but being around him made it clear how miserable he truly was.
The damage had been done with Ryan’s dad, Todd, and the basketball team. There was nothing I could do about that. But there was someone else who had also hurt him the last couple of weeks.
Me.
I tried to talk to him, but there was no use. At times it felt like there was this wall growing between us. A wall that was being built brick by brick because of the consequences Ryan had to suffer because he chose me.
We were stuck. And the only answer that kept appearing in my head was the hardest one.
Freedom.
His freedom.
I kept thinking about what Tracy had said, “What’s the point?”
What was the point of Ryan being with me if it was only causing him misery? What was the point if we’d only end up hurting each other? Hadn’t I hurt him enough as it was?
I didn’t want to let Ryan go, but I was being selfish keeping him in my life. We didn’t need to break up, but what if we took a break? A little sabbatical, so he could get everything back to where it was. So he could get to a place where he was happy, where he wasn’t regretting any decisions he had made.
“Everything okay?” Ryan asked as he pulled into the driveway at my house. “You’ve been a little off all week. Is it wedding stress?”
I’d been a little off this week? Yes, there was a lot going on with the major family event that was happening in less than two days, but I wasn’t the one in denial. I wasn’t the one brushing off everything that had been going on as being “fine.”
Because despite what Ryan kept repeating, it wasn’t fine. It was the opposite of fine.
“No, I’ve been thinking … what do you think about taking a vacation?”
Ryan’s eyes lit up. “I think a vacation sounds awesome. What kind of vacation?”
The words were caught in my throat, but I knew I had to do this for him. “A vacation from me.”
He slouched back in his seat. “What do you mean? A vacation from you?”
“With everything going on, I thought that maybe it’s best for us to take a little break. Maybe hit the reset button.” I felt a hot sting behind my eyes, a heaviness weighing on my heart.
“You mean get everything back to where it was before you had to balance me and the Club?”
“No. This has nothing to do with the Club.” Although a part of me wondered if deep down inside it did. Emancipating Ryan would mean that I would no longer be forced to choose between the two. He’d no longer have to feel the hurt of being an afterthought. “Wouldn’t it be nice for you to have everything back to normal?”
“Normal? You think my life would be normal without you in it?” Ryan’s voice started to rise. “Is that what this week was all about? All the questions? With everything happening, you want to add breaking up with me to the list?”
“No, no,” I protested. But wasn’t that what I was doing? “It’s not a breakup. Don’t you think your life would be better without me in it? All I’ve done is cause you pain.”
His mouth fell open in disbelief. “And this wouldn’t cause me pain? Do you honestly believe that my life would be better without you in it?”
I had to look away. “Yes,” I said so softly I wasn’t sure he heard me. “But we aren’t breaking up.”
“Then what are we doing?”
“Do I really need to go over everything that’s happened to you since you’ve been with me?”
“None of that stuff had anything to do with you.”
“Can you honestly say that?”
“Penny, look at me.” He placed his hand gently on my knee.
I couldn’t. I kept my gaze to my hands clenched in my lap.
“Is this what you really want?” he asked.
No.
But how could I keep doing this to him? And how could he not see that things would be better if he wasn’t with me?
“Penny” — Ryan’s tone became increasingly impatient — “I asked you a simple question. What do you want?”
“I …” Hot tears ran down my face. I want you, but I don’t want to hurt you anymore. “Please don’t make this more difficult for me.”
“Difficult for you? What about me? This is all your doing. You’re the one who wants a break.” His voice was hard. “Okay, so let’s make this easy on you: Are you in or are you out?”
There it was. I already knew what I had to do, but I didn’t want to do it.
I let Ryan’s words give me strength to do what needed to be done.
I’m simply trying to figure out what the hell happened to my life.
I’ve made my choice. I have to live with the consequences.
No point torturing yourself.
“I’m out,” I said meekly before running out of his car.
I kept replaying another thing Ryan had said.
It’s for the best.
But that was one statement I couldn’t believe.
Friday.
Pure hell.
I kept my head down all day in school. I refused to acknowledge the whispers from everybody, including The Lonely Hearts Club. All I needed to do was get through the school day. I avoided Ryan. I avoided everybody. I stayed numb.
I had made my choice. And I had to live with the consequences.
IF THERE WAS EVER A GOOD time to break up with a guy because you were ruining his life, I guess right before your sister’s wedding would be it.
We were so busy Thursday night entertaining Lucy’s fiancé’s family, I didn’t get a chance to tell my family about Ryan. But it was only a matter of time before they found out, especially when he was supposed to be my date at the wedding. As difficult as it was to get through the school day on Friday, I knew as soon as I walked into our house, there’d be so much to do. I hoped I wouldn’t have enough time to be miserable.
“Penny Lane, you’re finally home!” I heard feet quickly coming down the stairs. Lucy rounded the corner and scooped me up in her arms. “It’s so quiet around here with everybody off running errands. Can you believe it? I’m getting married tomorrow!” She laughed and seemed so happy.
I managed something that resembled a smile.
Lucy studied me. “Is everything okay? You were so quiet last night. Not like anybody can get a word in edgewise around Rita.”
“Yes, everything’s great,” I lied.
“Oh, and I forgot to tell you that I was organizing the gifts last week. You wouldn’t believe how many boxes came to our apartment. I don’t think we’re going to have room for anything else. Why on earth did we insist on getting a rice cooker?”
“Especially since you don’t cook,” I reminded her.
She took my hand and led me to the couch. “True. Anyways, we got Ryan’s gift before we left. That was so sweet of him — he didn’t need to get us anything.”
I felt my bottom lip start to quiver. Of course Ryan had been thoughtful enough to get them something off their registry.
“Penny, I’m your big sister, I know there??
?s something wrong. Please tell me.” Lucy put her arm around me, and that simple act of comfort broke apart the numbness that had taken over my body. I was able to find some solace that I was in private as the sobbing curtain fell.
I told Lucy everything about the last couple weeks, about how much I’d been struggling with balancing the Club and Ryan. About everything Ryan had been through because of me.
“So” — I wiped away my tears — “he’s not coming to the wedding. It happened yesterday, and I haven’t had the strength to tell Mom.”
“Don’t worry about the wedding.” Lucy hugged me. “That should be the least of your concerns. So we’ll have an extra chicken — who cares! What I do want to know is how you’re doing. Truly.”
That was such a tough question to answer. It was one I’d been avoiding for the past twenty-four hours. “I’m okay. Actually, I’m not. I’m confused, I’m angry, I’m sad, I feel sick, and then sometimes I feel like I don’t know what I am.”
“Oh, Penny.” Lucy tenderly brushed my hair out of my face. “You’re in love. It can be great, and sometimes it can suck. Believe me. You wouldn’t have all those emotions if you didn’t care. Is there any way you can make it work?”
I thought about it. I really did. I already had regret about what I’d done. Could I make it work? But it hadn’t been working. What would make me think things would be different? They wouldn’t. There had already been too much collateral damage.
“I can’t, believe me,” I said with finality.
We heard the garage door open. I ran to the bathroom to make sure any evidence of my breakdown was gone.
Dry eyes, closed heart, can’t lose.
I heard Mom talking Lucy’s ear off about some hotel snafu with her cousins. By the time I got to the kitchen, Mom was in full wedding dictator mode.
“Okay. I’ve been going over the car situation going from the ceremony to the reception.” She took out the binder she’d been filling since the day Lucy got engaged. “Penny Lane, do you think it would be okay if Ryan didn’t come in the limo with the wedding party but rode with your uncle Dan instead? I don’t think there’ll be enough room. Unless he wants to drive there himself. Whatever he wants.”
“Um,” I stalled. I knew that it was now or never. Maybe she’d be grateful to not have to deal with another body. “Well, see …”
Mom looked up at me, annoyed. “I know you want him in the limo, but there isn’t room. And I really want the entire wedding party to be together. Less chance of there being any issues getting to the reception.”
“Mom,” Lucy started, but I stopped her.
“It’s not a problem. Ryan isn’t going.”
“What?” Mom started shaking her head. “But he RSVP’d!”
“I’m sorry. We …” I reminded myself to stay strong and took a deep breath. “We broke up.”
I kept hoping the pain would lessen every time I had to say those two words, but it didn’t. It got worse.
“Oh, Penny Lane.” Mom moved forward in an attempt to embrace her baby girl, but I backed away.
“It’s okay, Mom. Really. I’m fine. It wasn’t working.”
Telling everybody that I was “fine” when I was the opposite, just like Ryan did, only confirmed my suspicions that he was truly miserable with me.
Mom turned to Lucy for a better explanation, since she wisely didn’t believe mine. Lucy simply returned her look with a tight smile and pretended to pore over the itinerary for the big day.
“All right.” Mom nodded. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really,” I said, grateful for being able to tell the truth for once.
“You’d let me know if you wanted to talk about it, or if you needed anything, right?” she gently prodded.
“Yes, I’ll be fine.” Then a thought occurred to me. “Is it okay if I bring someone else?”
“Of course,” Mom replied. “As long as they like chicken.”
The thought of being at Lucy’s wedding by myself, even if I was surrounded by family and friends, made me uneasy. I wanted to have someone there with me. A partner. A confidant.
And I already knew the perfect wedding date.
“YOU BETTER NOT EXPECT ME TO put out,” Tracy said as she put the finishing touches on her makeup. “I don’t know what you’ve read in the bathroom stalls, but it’s all false. Well, except about me being a good time.”
“Yeah, right,” I said as I carefully buttoned up the white shirt I was wearing for our family Christmas photo. Ever since my hair and makeup had been done, I’d been afraid to touch my face or my head. It probably wasn’t the wisest move to have us do an all-white photo shoot when there was a good chance something was going to get smudged before the wedding.
Tracy and I went downstairs to where the photographer had the white background up. I put on my white gloves and stood on my mark. There were a few test shots for lighting. We were ready, except for one thing: The bride was still getting her hair done.
Mom looked at her watch. She called upstairs to see when Lucy would be finished. And then she gasped. Dad, Rita, and I moved to the bottom of the stairs … and there at the top was the blushing bride. She was absolutely stunning.
“Oh. My. Sir Paul,” Mom said in a near whisper. “Lucy, you …” She quickly ran to get tissues as the sight of Lucy in her white princess dress, her hair in long ringlets with half of it pinned up with flowers, made us all weepy.
Lucy cautiously made her way down, with her two other bridesmaids, Sarah and Joy, holding the back of her train.
I dotted the corner of my eyes with tissues to try to not ruin the makeup that had been expertly applied only an hour before.
The five Blooms stood in a circle, beaming. I took a step forward to give Lucy a hug, but Mom wasn’t going to let an emotional moment potentially ruin a photo she’d been waiting for decades to accomplish. “We need everything to stay white!” she commanded before we let something like running mascara or lipstick destroy everything. Hadn’t she ever heard of Photoshop?
We fell into line and got what was sure to be the benchmark Bloom family Christmas photo taken. Once our parents were satisfied, which for a simple photo took a surprisingly long time, we got to pretend we were a family that took standard wedding photos. But first, four of us had to get out of our white ensembles.
Rita and I put on our bridesmaid dresses, deep purple chiffon knee-length creations with fabric motif flowers on one shoulder. Both of us had our hair curled and pinned up with the same flowers as Lucy’s.
Watching our family pose for photos, one would assume we were a regular family.
“Now, Lucy, can you please humor us with one more shot?” Mom asked as Dad brought out the Beatles cutouts from The Cavern.
Or maybe not.
Once we got to the church, there was a flurry of activity: more photos, last-minute alterations and instructions. The only calm thirty minutes we had was during the actual ceremony. But as soon as Lucy and Pete were pronounced husband and wife, and walked down the aisle to an instrumental version of “All You Need Is Love,” it was nonstop chaos. We had more photos in the church and then outside the church, followed by a nearby park and a beach overlooking Lake Michigan. It probably would’ve been fun if it hadn’t been forty degrees out.
By the time we got to the reception, I didn’t think I could smile anymore. My cheeks hurt, but every time I saw Lucy and Pete, I couldn’t help but grin. Lucy and her husband, Pete. It was such a foreign concept to me. Lucy’s married.
The reception ballroom was decorated in deep purple, white, and silver streamers, flowers, and candles. I looked around to find Tracy, but with every turn I ran into an extended family member or friend. After nearly thirty minutes of saying hello, taking more pictures, and trying desperately to get some food and take off my high heels, I finally found her.
She was in a corner, charming my aunts and cousins from my dad’s side. “Pen!” She pulled out the seat next to her. “You look like you need a sea
t and a drink.”
I collapsed into the chair. “And food.” I’d been enviously eyeing all the passed hors d’oeuvres.
“Hey, squirts!” Tracy snapped her fingers, and two of my younger cousins came running over to her. “I need you to get a soda and some cheese, those little quiche things, pretty much everything. But I don’t want you filling up the plate with veggies. Only the good stuff. And tell them it’s for the bride’s sister. Hurry it up!”
They both laughed and went off running.
“I see that you’ve got them properly trained,” I remarked.
“This is what I’ve learned from years of babysitting: You’ve got to keep them occupied. And show them who’s boss.”
“Isn’t being the boss your theory on pretty much everything?”
“True.” She laughed. “It’s worked out pretty good for me so far.”
I couldn’t argue with that. Tracy was one of the most in-demand babysitters in our area. The kids loved her and they knew better than to cross her. Most people did.
It took the kids only a couple minutes to bring me sustenance.
“Good job.” Tracy high-fived them. “I may even let you boogie down with me later. Now go bother your parents — we’ve got girl talk to do.”
They both hugged her before running off obediently. I gratefully began devouring my plate.
“We’re seated over there.” Tracy pointed to a table to the left of where Lucy and Pete would be sitting with the parents and grandparents. “I put our place cards down next to the guy you walked down the aisle with. He seems nice.”
I called her bluff. “You mean he seems cute.”
“Cute, nice, what to the evs. It’s a wedding. That doesn’t mean that I can’t practice my flirting skills. I don’t want them to be rusty by the time I get to college.”
“Speaking of Brent the groomsman.” I took a big bit of cheese. “He has a fifteen-year-old sister outside of Boston who we need to recruit.”