The Journey Collection (5 page)

“No! I — I never stopped loving you. Not once,” she whispered, almost sounding ashamed of her admission. “But it’s too late now.”

Before Travis could stop her, Penelope wiggled out of his embrace and ran over to her car, leaving him standing there. For the second time, he found himself crumbling to his knees and fighting the urge to scream.

***

Chapter
Five

Lessons Learned

Somehow, and he wasn’t sure how, Travis managed to drive back out to his father’s ranch without crashing into a tree. Russ was gone, though that didn’t surprise Travis. He’d spouted out so much hate and venom through his angry words that it was a wonder his father hadn’t changed the locks. While Russ had abandoned him when he needed him the most, he was still Travis’s father. He owed the man more respect than he’d shown this morning — or anytime over the last seventeen years, if he were honest with himself.

Stumbling upstairs, Travis walked into his bedroom. There, next to his bed, was the suitcase the airline had promised to deliver. At least they had kept their word. Travis crawled on his bed, buried his face in his pillow, and tried to put the day behind him.

For reasons that he couldn’t fully explain or begin to understand, he still loved Penelope. They’d been friends since Kindergarten. Loralie had always teased Travis that one day he’d fall in love with Penelope. Of course, at six years old, he hadn’t found it funny. As they’d approached their freshman year in high school, Travis had noticed his feelings for her had morphed from mere friendship into something more. At first he’d been terrified; scared of ruining the relationship he had with his best friend.

After several months of agonizing over his feelings, he had decided to man up and had asked Penelope to go to the Spring dance with him. Her smile when she’d agreed had taken his breath away, searing into Travis’ soul and causing his heart to flutter in pure joy. Of course, Travis had been nervous wreck in the hours leading up to the dance. What if he stepped on Penelope’s toes or stuck her with the pin from the simple rose corsage he’d bought her? Neither of those things had happened, of course.

Travis had picked her up and had been stunned by how beautiful Penelope looked in her pale pink dress. He had taken hold of her hand and stammered out how incredible she was. Penelope’s cheeks had warmed to a rosy red as she’d thanked him, the words trembling from between her lips. He’d helped her into the front seat of his car, being careful as he drove them to the school. It had been the first time Penelope had ridden in his car.

Once they’d arrived, he’d helped her out, trying to be the gentleman he knew his mother would have expected him to be. Penelope’s hand had felt perfect in his, like he had been meant to be the one to hold it; perhaps he had been. The night had been spent dancing and laughing together, and Penelope had never left his side. Her smile had only grown with each moment they were together.

After the dance had ended, he’d helped her back into his car and had driven her home, an ache growing inside of him at the thought of being away from her. Penelope had slipped her hand back into his as he’d walked her up to her front door. Titling her head back, her eyes had met his. In that moment, with the moon shining down on them, Travis had known that he had to kiss her. Slowly, he’d leaned in to find her warm lips awaiting his.

Time had stood still, and the stars had aligned. Everything had been perfect, just the way it was supposed to be. Then her father had flashed the porch light, causing them both to jump apart and burst out laughing. From that moment on, Penelope had been his girl. He’d fallen in love with her.

For the next three years, they had been inseparable. Then, in a moment of immaturity, he’d made the biggest mistake of his life, and in the process, he had lost her and their child.

At the time, Travis had thought he was doing what was best for both him and Penelope. She was staying in Clarendon to attend the local junior college. He’d been offered a scholarship to play football at the University of Texas. With over four hundred miles between them, he had known they’d never be able to keep their relationship safe from fears of infidelity. So Travis had taken the cowardly way out. He’d told Penelope they should see other people, and that lie had carried him through too many nights when he’d yearned for her.

The look on her face when he’d stood in front of her and spouted off his lies, the pain that oozed out of her eyes, had haunted him every day. Now, Travis had to come to terms with having lost not only Penelope with his selfishness, but also ten years with his son as well. Russ has been right; he’d failed to be a good father to Max.

~*~*~*~

After a few hours of wallowing, Travis dragged himself off his bed and shuffled downstairs. The house was dark; only the light in the kitchen indicated that Russ was home. Travis walked into the room, only to stop in the doorway when he saw his father sitting at the table, dozens of snapshots laid out in front of him. One hand was up against his forehead, while the other one gripped the back of his neck.

“You think I didn’t love your momma, that I still don’t love her,” Russ grumbled, not bothering to look back at Travis. “That woman . . .” He shook his head. “I miss her so much. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t hear her laughing or imagine that damn cheeky smile she always wore.”

Travis stood in the doorway, unsure of how to respond to him. Never in the seventeen years since his mother had passed away had he seen Russ so emotional. Travis knew Russ had grieved for her, but outside of the first few days after her death, Travis hadn’t seen or heard his father cry; not for her, and not over him, either. Now, all of a sudden, Russ was baring his soul to him.

Russ picked up one of the photographs that lay on the table in front of him. “I took this the day you were born. Your momma started having contractions while cooking dinner. The woman was nine months along and I kept telling her that I’d cook or, hell, that I’d just run into town and pick us up something but she gave me that look. You know the one I’m talking about, don’t you?”

Travis nodded. “The ‘don’t-fuck-with-me’ look.”

“Yeah, suppose that’s one way to describe it,” Russ chuckled, sobering up quickly. “Anyway, I knew better than to argue with her, but I watched her because I knew how stubborn she could be. I don’t think I ate half of my food before I pushed my plate away and declared I was done. Without giving her a choice, I scooped her up in my arms and carried her out to the truck. I must have been going nearly eighty, but I got her to the hospital just in time for you to be born in the front seat.”

“Yeah, she told me that story,” Travis muttered. “Right before she died.”

Russ sighed, letting the picture drop down on the table. He turned and faced Travis, tears sliding down his weathered face. “Boy, I wish I could have saved her, but I couldn’t. The cancer had already taken so much out of her. She was tired of fighting.”

“No, I know that, Dad,” Travis said. “But you didn’t have to spend all your time out in your workshop, building shit that we didn’t need while she slowly died. You should have been in here, holding her hand like I did every fucking day.”

“I held her every night,” Russ replied. “I watched her struggling to get from one breath to the next. When she cried for the pain to stop, I prayed that God would take me and spare her. But he didn’t. Damn it, Travis, I needed her, and He took her away from me!”

“From me too,” Travis whimpered. He exhaled a shaky breath. “She was my mom, and I wasn’t done needing her — or you. Dad, I didn’t know how to deal with any of that, and instead of helping me, you pushed me away.”

Russ stood up and walked over to Travis, slowly reaching out and placing a hand on his shoulder. “I am so sorry that I wasn’t a better father to you, boy. You may not have known, but I’ve always been proud of you.”

“But you never told me,” Travis grumbled, fighting to keep control of the abundance of emotions running rampant through him. He wanted to scream at his father, to curse, to release his rage, but mostly, he wanted his father to tell him everything would be okay.

“I didn’t think you wanted to hear it from me,” Russ admitted, letting his hand drop to his side. “You never needed me, Travis. When you were a little boy, you preferred to be with your momma. Even after she died, you focused all your attention on football.” Pausing, he shrugged his shoulders. “Suppose I figured that if a time came that you really needed me, you’d tell me.”

“There’s never been a time when I didn’t need you, Dad. Especially right now, because everything is so out of control.”

Russ laughed. “Yeah, I’d say that’s a bit of an understatement. How about I make us some supper and then we can talk things out?”

Travis smiled. “That sounds good.”

~*~*~*~

An hour later, Russ and Travis were seated at the dining room table. On their places were two perfectly grilled T-bone steaks, baked potatoes, and fresh salads. A comfortable silence had settled around them while they ate. Neither of them had spoken much while Russ cooked; just a request to pass the salt or pepper, to get the butter out, and a nod to the fridge where the ice-cold beers were.

“This is good,” Travis moaned, savoring the zesty flavor of his steak. “What’d you put on it?”

“If I told you, then I’d have to kill you,” Russ snickered. He picked up his beer and took a hearty swig. “It’s your momma’s recipe: a pinch of garlic powder, minced onion, and a splash of lemon. Even though I can’t seem to get it quite right, I keep trying.”

“Well, it’s good,” Travis mumbled. “I don’t cook much. Doesn’t seem worth it, with me living alone. Plus, with my schedule, I’m lucky if I’m home more than a couple of days before it’s time to head out again.”

“That has to get old, being gone all the time.”

Travis shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so, but I mean, I have the guys from the team. They definitely keep things interesting.”

“I don’t think I need to know the details, boy.” Russ laughed and shook his head. “You love the game that much?”

Travis released a heavy breath. “Yeah, I do. I can’t explain it, but there’s something about stepping out on that field, hearing the roar of the crowd chanting your name. It’s — well — it’s incredible. And I’ll probably never get to feel it again.”

Russ cocked an eyebrow at him. “And that’d be a bad thing?”

“Dad,” Travis sighed.

“I’m just asking,” he exclaimed, throwing a hand up. “You’ve had a good run, Travis. Most people don’t get six seasons in the pros, much less six successful ones.”

“No, I know they don’t,” he grumbled. “But what else can I do, Dad? I suppose I could try to get my teaching certification, but crap, I haven’t been in school in six years. A lot has changed since them.”

“Oh, yeah,” Russ scoffed. “You’re practically an old man, well past your prime.”

“You know what I mean,” Travis quipped.

“Yeah, I know.” Leaning back in his seat, his father said, “When I saw Penelope the summer after you left with a baby in her arms, I knew that he was yours. I picked up the phone a million times to call you, but I couldn’t do it.”

“Why not?” Travis asked.

“You were so angry when you left here.” Russ snorted. “Hell, boy, you were angry for the last seven years that you lived here. I knew you hated me, hated living out here on this ranch. Maybe I should have moved us into town, let you go out all the time with your friends. I don’t know. Your momma loved it out here, and I guess I wanted to hold onto her as much as I could.”

“I didn’t hate you, Dad,” Travis murmured, swallowing against the lump in his throat. “Sure, I was pissed off and angry, but I’ve never hated you.”

Russ’s lips trembled, and he blinked several times before he spoke again. “I never meant to hurt you. I should have told you about Penelope and Max, but I didn’t want you to get hurt. And I didn’t want that boy to get hurt. For all I knew, she’d told you and you’d chosen not to be in his life.”

Travis slumped back in his seat. “Wow, Dad, you really thought I would have done that?”

“I don’t know. You never came back, not once in ten years, boy.”

“No, I didn’t,” Travis admitted. “But I never would have let Max grow up without me in his life.”

“Yeah?” Russ wondered. “What would have done? Taken him down to Miami with you? Had a babysitter watch him on the sidelines while you played?”

“I — I don’t know,” he stammered. “I wasn’t given that choice to make, was I?”

“Are you going to make that little boy a part of your life now?” Russ pressed on, demanding answers to questions that Travis didn’t have.

“I don’t know, Dad,” he said. “Until yesterday, I didn’t even know I had a kid, and now that I do, I don’t know what the hell I’m gonna do about him.”

“Well, I guess that’s what you need to figure out,” Russ stated. “Because that boy, he’s an amazing kid. He’s just like you, Travis: full of fire and gumption. Don’t play with his emotions; he deserves better than to be toyed with.”

“He does,” Travis admitted, nodding. “I don’t know what to do, Dad. My life is a clusterfuck right now, and the last thing I need is a kid.”

Russ scoffed and stood up. Picking up his plate, he said, “Boy, maybe that’s exactly what you need.”

***

Chapter Six

Time to Talk

Two days later, Travis climbed in behind the wheel of Bertha with one thought on his mind: Penelope. He needed to talk to her, to try to get some kind of understanding about Max, their relationship, and what was going to happen from this point on. Travis knew he should have been on her doorstep the day before, but a Sunday afternoon with Max loitering around in the next room wasn’t the time to have the much-needed conversation. Instead, he opted to wait until Monday when he knew the boy would be at school. A part of him hated Penelope for never giving him the chance to be the boy’s father. Maybe that wasn’t fair but Travis had lost ten years with Max and no matter how hard he tried, he’d never be able to get that time back. However, as angry as he was with her, Travis couldn’t hate Penelope. He still loved her too damn much.

Rolling down the window, Travis allowed the early morning air to wash over him, all in an effort to keep his head clear. For two nights, he’d struggled to find the sleep his body so desperately craved, and what little he did get had been filled with dreams of Penelope and Max. Their childlike giggles echoed around him, and the sparkles of joy that filled their eyes when they smiled had him gasping for air when he woke up. For a moment, he wondered what it would have been like to have been able to help raise Max from day one. Would his first word have been “Daddy”?

“Can’t think about the ‘what ifs,’ asshole,” Travis grumbled under his breath.

A few minutes later, Travis found himself parked in front of Penelope’s house. Russ had explained that after her parents moved to the mountains of Colorado, Penelope had moved into their house. Turning off the engine, Travis shifted his attention up to the front door. Too many nights, he’d found himself holding her against him, kissing her sweet lips. They’d spent summer afternoons curled up together on the porch swing, with her reading while he watched her. Penelope would blush and tell him to stop, but he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of her. He’d been in awe of her, but in a moment of haste, he’d thrown her away.

“Okay, Travis, time to man up,” he muttered to himself.

He climbed out of his car, took a deep breath, and started up the narrow, stone pathway that led to the porch. The small, two-bedroom, brick, ranch-style house had been his second home, the only other place that Travis had felt welcomed. Even though Penelope’s parents hadn’t cared for him, they’d told him on more than one occasion that he was welcome there. Travis raised his hand to knock; however, the door was pulled open before he could.

“What are you doing here?” Penelope asked, pulling the sides of her pink terry-cloth robe together. However, she wasn’t fast enough, and he saw the white tank and maroon boxers she wore. She’d always slept in men’s boxers, claiming they were more comfortable than women’s pajamas. It would seem that nothing had changed.

“You and I need to talk,” Travis clipped, pushing past her and walking into the house. He stifled a snort; with the exception of a dozen or so pictures littering the mantel over the stone fireplace and the top of the entertainment center, everything inside the living room looked just as it had ten years ago. The same brown, tweed sofas and burgundy recliner were arranged in front of the television. The old piano still sat in the far corner, while a wooden coat rack continued to stand just inside the door.

“Gee, Travis, just come right on in,” Penelope replied dryly.

He let out a humorless laugh and turned back to her. “Don’t mind if I do.”

She sighed and shut the door. “You should have called instead of just showing up here unannounced.”

“Hmm, well, I guess we’re both failures when it comes to picking up the phone, huh?”

Penelope flinched, wrapping her arms around her torso. “Guess so.”

Travis walked over to the fireplace and picked up a framed photograph of Penelope holding Max as a newborn. He looked so tiny; his face was scrunched up and red. Penelope’s blond hair was soaked and tangled. Travis’ eyes filled up with tears; he should have been there with her, holding her hand, and encouraging her to keep pushing.

Setting the picture back in its place, he turned to Penelope. “You should have told me about Max.”

“I know, but at the time I thought I was doing the right thing for both of us,” she muttered. “I’m gonna make some coffee.”

Travis followed her into the kitchen, stopping in front of the white refrigerator and pulling down one of the pictures Max had drawn. He was in the middle of a large football field — the goal posts on either side made it easy to figure out. The boy in the picture was holding a football over his head, while two people stood off to the side. There were bubbles above the two stick figures, shouting encouragement to Max.

“Who’s the guy?” Travis looked back at Penelope.

Sighing, she turned to him. “You.”

“Me?” he gasped. “But . . .”

“He drew it last night,” she said, taking him from him. “All he’s done is talk about you.”

“Oh,” Travis replied, dumbly. “I’m not sure what to say.”

“Yeah, neither do I.” Penelope pulled two coffee cups out of the cabinet, setting them on the counter before moving to the refrigerator. “Excuse me.”

Travis stepped out of the way. She pulled out a bottle of creamer before using her hip to shut the door. Travis leaned against the counter, watching her while she got their cups ready. He laughed when she dumped one spoonful of sugar in his, before adding the creamer into her own.

At the sound of his laughter, she looked over her shoulder. “What’s so funny?”

“You still remember how I take my coffee,” he explained. “Guess I’m just a little surprised.”

“There’s a lot that I didn’t forget, Travis,” she murmured. Pouring the dark liquid into the cups, she turned and handed him his. “Like how you still don’t know how to extend your arm. You took a pretty nasty hit. How’s the shoulder?”

“Never better,” he lied, taking a sip.

Penelope raised an eyebrow. “If you were ‘never better’, as you put it, then you wouldn’t be here. You’d be in Denver, getting ready for your next game.”

Travis cringed. “Yeah.”

“So, how’s the shoulder doing?” she asked again.

“It’s . . .” Travis exhaled. “It’s sore and tight. I don’t have much rotation left, and what little I do have, hurts like a son of a bitch.”

“Wow, that must hurt pretty bad,” she snickered. “I mean, a son of a bitch?”

“Oh, I’m gonna tell Max that you cursed. He’d gonna make you put a dollar in the swear jar,” Travis teased. “You and swearing? Since when is that an issue?”

“April fifteenth, almost eleven years ago,” she said. “Three-thirteen in the morning, after nearly twenty hours of labor and an additional three of pushing, Max came into this world, screaming at the top of his lungs.”

“I should have been there.”

“Would you have been?” Penelope carried her coffee into the living room, sliding onto one of the sofas and tucking her legs under her.

Travis sat at the other end. “I think I would have. But you didn’t give me that choice.”

“No, I didn’t,” she admitted. “There’s nothing I can say that is going to excuse the fact that I kept our son a secret from you, Travis, though you should know that there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t pick up the phone or sit down to write you a letter.”

“Yet, you didn’t,” he groused.

Penelope sighed. “You’re right, I didn’t, but I can’t change that decision.”

“Would you?” he asked. “If you could go back and change the course of history, would you?”

She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and averted her eyes from his. “No.”

“Oh.” Travis wasn’t sure what else to say.

“Travis, if I’d told you that I was pregnant, you wouldn’t have been here. You would have given me a bunch of promises, but football would have come first. It always did.”

Whistling under his breath, Travis pushed up off the sofa. “Oh, um, wow. Not sure what to say. I’m sorry that I was such a bastard, Penelope.”

“That’s not what I meant. It’s just, Travis, from the time you started playing football, it was all you cared about. You lived it, breathed it. And I understood that while we were together, but it wasn’t always easy coming in second.”

“You were never second to me,” Travis snarked

“Yes, I was,” she argued, standing up. “When you got the offer from UT, you accepted it without even talking to me about it.”

“They offered me a full ride,” he said. “I couldn’t turn it down!”

“Yeah, I know, and I wouldn’t have stood in your way, but, Travis, it hurt that you couldn’t even tell me about it before you accepted it. Hell, even your daddy didn’t know.”

“So because I accepted a scholarship to one of the best schools in the state, not to mention the country, that makes me a potential deadbeat dad?”

“No.” Penelope shook her head. “You left and never looked back, Travis. Not one phone call, not even an email. I waited, but nothing. The last thing I was going to do to you was trap you with a kid.”

“But he’s my son.”

“Yeah, he is, but he’s my priority, Travis. I was eighteen and pregnant. Momma and Daddy helped where they could, but I was still alone. I wasn’t going to put my son in a position where he’d get hurt. I felt enough pain for the both of us.”

Travis closed his eyes and leaned against the wall. “I never meant to hurt you, baby.”

She smiled. “I know you didn’t. You just had dreams that were bigger than me, bigger than Clarendon. I like this little town, you know.”

“I can’t just move on and forget that I have a son, Penelope.”

“No, I know you can’t.” Sighing, she sat back down on the sofa. “He doesn’t know that you’re his father, Travis. I didn’t want him hating you when he’s seen you as his hero for so long.”

“I can’t let him go,” Travis whimpered, sliding to the floor. “Not after seeing him, talking to him. You can’t ask me to pretend that he isn’t mine.”

“I’m not,” she assured him. “But I need you to understand that he idolizes you and that when he finds out that you’re his dad, he might not anymore.”

“Okay, I’ll deal with that if it happens,” Travis was quick to agree.

Penelope leaned back, folding her arms in her lap. “Max has peewee football practice tonight at five. Why don’t you come watch, and then afterwards, I’ll make dinner for all three of us? You can get to know him, and we’ll try to figure out how to tell him the truth.”

“That sounds great.” Travis scrambled to his feet. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, Travis. Just don’t mess with him if you’re not serious about being here for him. He’s an amazing little boy who sees the good in everyone.”

“I promise,” he vowed, shocking even himself at the sincerity he heard in the words. “I’ll guess I’ll see you at five, up by the bus barn, right?”

“Yeah,” she whispered. Standing up, she followed him over to the door, holding it open for him. “I missed you, Travis. A lot.”

Travis brought his hand up to her cheek, stroking his fingers up before brushing her hair behind her ear. He leaned in, pressing his lips against her creamy skin. “I’ve missed you, too.”

With a strength that he didn’t know he had, Travis left Penelope standing there and walked down to his car. He looked back at her once before climbing in behind the wheel and returning to his father’s ranch. Maybe they hadn’t worked everything out, but it was a start. Today, he’d gotten a chance to get to know his son. Tonight, he’d do everything he could to get Penelope back.

***