“What was?”
“I had postpartum depression—that was a big part of it. It lingered for a long while, undiagnosed,” Anne said. “I ignored it. But once I let myself get treated for it, things got better. Slowly. But not a day goes by I don’t feel guilty about my choices.”
“Anne, that’s not—”
“I’m not telling you this story to get sympathy. I’m telling it to you so that you know you’re not alone,” Anne said. “Can you imagine how terrified I felt when I found out two more children were on the way? I had already left my family once. Abandoned them. How could I possibly survive the hormones, the trauma of childbirth, the intensity of newborn life all over again?”
“How did you do it?” Penny’s voice was small.
“I still don’t know if I am doing it,” Anne said. “My point is that we’re all dealt a shitty hand of cards sometimes. But things changed for me when I realized that I’m the only mother these kids will ever have. I am their best shot. I make mistakes, huge ones, but at the end of the day, I love them, and they love me. Some days, I won’t lie, I still want to disappear. But guess what? I haven’t yet, and you won’t either. Because you can do this, Penny. If you want to.”
Penny looked on the verge of tears. Anne had already gone there and back again emotionally. Meanwhile, Eliza found herself stiffly watching from the couch. For her, motherhood was a road not traveled.
“Maybe this is too personal,” Anne said, “but have you considered your options?”
“I never thought of not keeping the baby.” Penny shrugged, trying for matter-of-fact and falling short. “I’ve always wanted to be a mom. But I haven’t had time to process everything. I haven’t even told the baby’s father yet. We’re not…together.”
Eliza hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath. Was it her imagination, or had Penny’s eyes flicked over at hers for the briefest of seconds?
“I met him at one of my acting classes,” Penny said. “We only slept together a few times. We weren’t even in a proper relationship.”
“You will tell him, though, won’t you?” Anne asked. “If he’s any sort of man, he’ll be there to support you—one way or another.”
“Telling him is the right thing to do,” Penny said, though she sounded as if she wanted to be convinced otherwise. “But I’d hate to ruin his life, too. The father, he’s…young and sort of stupid. We both are, I guess. I thought I was being safe on birth control, but I guess it failed.”
“That happens.” Anne raised her eyebrows knowingly.
“Not that there’s anything I can do about it now,” Penny said. “The thing is, I don’t want to marry this guy just because we’re having a baby together. And it’s not as if he has any money. I wouldn’t expect him to help out in any way, but he probably deserves to know.”
“I think so,” Anne said. “And who knows? Maybe he’ll step up to the plate and surprise you.”
“Maybe,” Penny said.
Eliza watched her face carefully, and Penny’s expression said it all. The father of this child wasn’t going to be pleased with the pregnancy. Eliza would bet money on it. But young and stupid? Roman was many things, but he was neither of those. Was Penny lying about the father, or had Eliza assumed wrong?
The front door opened then, interrupting the tense conversation. Roman’s long legs stretched before him, carrying his trim physique around the corner where he came to an abrupt stop in the entryway to the living room. A flicker of surprise crossed his face, stamped out quickly as he crossed his arms and studied the three women before him.
Eliza cleared her throat. “Welcome home, honey.”
A layer of tension as thick as butter descended over the room. Roman’s gaze slid to each of the ladies in turn. When his gaze landed on Penny, Eliza watched as she returned his stare. Penny didn’t look surprised but perhaps defiant. Instead, it was Anne who had gone pale. Curious, curious.
“Did I misplace my invitation?” Roman asked nonchalantly. “I wasn’t aware we were having a dinner party.”
“It’s book club,” Eliza finally managed. “We’re just chatting. Catching up on personal news.”
“I see.” Roman glanced around the room. “Anything exciting in the world of books?”
“I don’t know about books,” Eliza said briskly, “but we’ve just learned Penny is pregnant. Isn’t that wonderful news, darling?”
TRANSCRIPT
Defense: At the time you found out you were pregnant, were you in a relationship with the baby’s father?
Penny Sands: I…er…I thought I was. But it ended shortly thereafter.
Defense: Why did the relationship end?
Penny Sands: He wanted me to get an abortion. I wanted to keep the baby.
Defense: Yesterday, Anne Wilkes testified that she drove you to a clinic on October 24, 2018. She stated that you were thinking about getting an abortion.
Penny Sands: I wasn’t really considering it.
Defense: Then why did you go to the clinic?
Penny Sands: It’s hard to explain.
Defense: Try.
Penny Sands: I was broke, young, in a tenuous relationship that, in retrospect, was doomed from the start. I thought the baby deserved better than me. So yes. I went to the clinic. I walked inside, made the appointment. Anne—my closest friend—came with me. But I couldn’t do it.
Defense: Why not?
Penny Sands: Because I loved the baby already.
Defense: What happened when you told the father that you were planning to keep the baby?
Penny Sands: He threatened me.
Defense: Did you call the police to report it?
Penny Sands: No, I didn’t.
Defense: I have here, from the victim’s notes, that you were the one who threatened him. And then he took out a restraining order on you.
Penny Sands: I sure did.
Defense: Sure did what?
Penny Sands: I told him that he’d be sorry if he ever interfered with my life or my baby’s again. If that’s a threat, then yes. I threatened him.
TWENTY-FIVE
Four Months Before
October 2018
I’m sorry, Mom. I can’t come home for the holidays. It’s just not in the cards this year.” Penny winced as she broke the news to her mother. “I have to work.”
“I thought you didn’t like your job at that casting office?”
“It’s still a job, and I need the money. I knew I’d have to make sacrifices when I moved out here.”
“But a girl belongs with her family during the holidays. Are these sacrifices worth it?”
“It’s all part of the gamble.”
Penny realized the irony of her words even as she spoke them. A gamble. Everything had been a gamble since she’d left the safety of her own little bubble. Even the wineglass before her was a gamble. Would Eliza notice it was missing? Would she care?
A hesitation spanned several long, uncomfortable seconds before Amy continued. “I say this lovingly, Penny. But you gave up a career, a family, a lovely apartment—a home. For what? A crappy apartment, a married man, and an awful job?”