The Mrs. Degree (Accidentally in Love 2)

When my parents were still alive, my father always told me to ‘Make hay while the sun still shines,’ and that’s what I intend to do. If I have to drink blue piss to ensure my future financial stability with a career that could end tomorrow, I’ll drink blue piss.

Three million dollars.

I let out a whistle and grab my phone, settling on to the couch with Kevin, who’s constantly irritated with all my traveling. Seriously, the dog has an attitude with me now, and I don’t blame him for giving me the cold shoulder.

“Don’t worry, pal, I’ll find you a friend. I’m working on it.”

A little girl friend who happens to be seven years old, if I have my way—but first, there’s something I have to do.

Me: Hey, pretty lady, what are you up to tonight?

Penelope: Just got done folding clothes. It was a long day. You?

Me: Do you have time for a video chat…?

Penelope: Mmm, my hands are full—can we just text so I can keep working? I have to start a bath soon and it might be easier.

Huh.

She can’t video chat while she’s folding laundry?

A nervous knot forms in my stomach at her lame excuse; she clearly doesn’t want to talk to me right now.

I mean, I get it—I dropped a bomb on her yesterday, she has a lot on her mind.

Me: No worries, just thinking I’d love to see your pretty face. And Skipper’s. What’s she up to right now?

Penelope: She’s actually with Davis and Juliet, they ran grocery shopping because Davis wanted chicken tonight and didn’t have any—promised Skipper ice cream as a bribe for going along.

Me: She’s not a fan of the grocery store?

Penelope: Not really, she thinks it’s boring unless I let her ride inside the cart, which I hardly do because she’s getting way too big and I have no room for food.

Me: Ha. I bet.

I rack my brain, wanting to say more but not wanting to do it in a text.

Me: Is everything good?

Penelope: Sure, everything is good. Why do you ask?

Me: I don’t know…something feels “off.”

Penelope: LOL. You can tell something feels off from a text?

Me: Sure. You’re usually way more bubbly. And you usually want to video chat if I ask…

Penelope: Ah.

Ah? What kind of an answer is that?

Me: So what’s going on? Are you thinking about what I said yesterday, is that it?

Penelope: Obviously I’m thinking about it. It’s the only thing I CAN think about.

Me: What are your thoughts about it? If this is going to work, you have to open up to me, Penn.

Penelope: I know. That’s the thing—I wish you were here so we could discuss it more in person.

Me: Does that mean you miss me?!

Ha. I can get my flirt on during a serious conversation.

Penelope: Of course I miss you. I miss you every day you’re not here, which isn’t very often.

Me: I know distance bothers you because it bothers me too. Which is why I think we should live together.

Me: Is the issue that you think…it’s too SOON to live together?

Penelope: No, no—that’s not it. I feel like even though I haven’t seen you in seven years, we haven’t missed a day. It feels as if we were never apart. Is that weird? And now I’m just lonely for you and…

I can almost see and hear her shrug from here.

Me: Lonely?

Penelope: Yes. I’m lonely. Are you?

Me: Yes, Penn, I’m lonely too. Do you know how rough it is meeting your daughter and then having to say goodbye, and not get to see her again for days? She’s with you, but it’s not the same, it’s like…she’s ripped from me over and over and over.

Penelope: I hadn’t considered it like that.

Me: Every time I see you two and connect with you two—then leave—I have to reconcile it from the beginning each time. Not really sure when I’ll see you again, then the past comes rearing its ugly head. How I felt finding out I had a daughter.

Me: It’s rough. All my brain does is work in overdrive. I can’t shut it off. If you thought I had dreams about you before—I go through my days sleepwalking, thinking of only you. You and Skipper.

Penelope: I’m sorry, Jack.

Me: I wasn’t saying it to make you feel bad. I said it to put things into perspective for you. I know you hate the distance, but I do too, and I’m trying to figure some shit out.

Me: You just have to be patient. This is never going to be perfect, but this relationship is OURS, and we are the only two who can figure it out.

Penelope: I don’t NEED perfection.

Me: Then what is it you think you need?

Penelope: Just… I just want… you to be present. Or me to be present. I don’t know, LOL.

Me: Which brings us to our current predicament.