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Penny McVries loves Saturdays. There’s no school, her dads are off work, and most importantly, pancakes. As long as she can remember, they’ve made pancakes for breakfast. Before she was born, her dads used to go to a local diner for pancakes every weekend. They’d share blueberry pancakes and hot chocolate. Once she was born, the tradition never stopped. She loves how she can top them with berries, syrup, and sometimes whipped cream. Her stomach growls just thinking about it.
The urge makes her hop up, slipping on her slippers, she walks over to her drawer and grabs her softball uniform. Luckily, she’s folded it well; otherwise, her dad would have to iron it. She makes her bed, then throws her uniform on top and heads to her dad's room. Their room was at the end of the hall, so she shuffled her feet, seeing the soft glow of orange fill the hallway. Above her were family photos, bright smiles in front of the Christmas tree. Her daddy captured a photo of her in mid jump, meeting Mickey Mouse when they went to Disney World last year, and the group photo they took after she hit three home runs in a single game nearly a month ago.
At an early age, she realized that family time was important; her parents worked full-time but made sure she was their top priority. Their family was small; her dads didn’t have siblings, and her Dad’s mother lived in Maine, a few hours away from their home in Maplewood, New Jersey. But she loves where they live, her friends and teammates, and their house (regardless of the creaky wood floors) are here. Penny doesn’t know anything else but this.
The door to her parents' room is slightly open, so she kicks it open with her foot. The door creaks as it widens, and she sees two human-sized lumps on the bed. She walks on the left side, her Daddy’s side (Pete), and only sees the top of his head.
She reaches and rubs his head,
“Daddy, Daddy.” She whispers, careful not to wake her Dad, Ray, who is on his side, his arm draped over his husband.
Her daddy groans, stirring awake. He’s a light sleeper. She pulls on the covers,
Their dark brown eyes met,
“Yeah, what’s up, baby?” His voice is raspy but warm.
“It’s Saturday.” She can see his eyebrows rise, she rolls her eyes,
“Daddy.” She tugs on his covers again. Daddy laughs, and she wants to fling a pillow at him.
“Gimme a second, kiddo.” Penny sighs dramatically. She climbs on the bed, her legs on either side of him. Her daddy groans, “You’re heavy.”
“Pancakes.”
“Oh yeah.” He moves his hands from the covers and begins to tickle her sides; she squeals in delight. Almost falling off the bed, but her Daddy catches her. Their stomachs hurt from laughing so much.
“Guys.” They hear a grumble from beside them. Ray’s ginger hair peeks out from underneath the blanket. He rolls, facing away from them, his arm now dangling on the side of their bed. Her daddy gives her the shh gesture and pats her leg,
“C’mon Pen, we have a mission to complete.”
Penny nods excitedly.
Their kitchen was small, a single wall with brown cabinets and a yellow tabletop. Nearby there is a sink with a large glass window above it that shows the front yard. Next to the door is a small wooden table that Penny uses as her desk to complete her homework. Penny grabs some blueberries (for her) and raspberries (for daddy), and strawberries (for dad).
Pete grabs the pancake mix from the cupboard, and Pen hears the familiar sizzle of the mix hitting the pan,
“Pen, can you make the eggs for me?”
“Sure.” She hops up and grabs some eggs. She creaks four on the counter, the fifth one explodes in her hand,
“Shit.” She mutters, flaring her yolk-stained hands around.
“Penny Rose.” Her dad warned her that she knew what was coming next.
“Don’t swear.”
“Sorry.” She puts her sticky hands in the sink. It was a bad habit that she began after hearing her dads play cards on Friday nights. Soaping her hands up and drying them with a paper towel, she finishes her mission with no further problems. She sprinkles an extra cheddar cheese for good measure.
“Hey, take your pick.” Penny stands beside him, watching carefully as he slides a few pancakes onto a golden plate. Some are golden brown and plain, others are mixed berries.
“I’ll take two with berries, one plain.” Her daddy slides the ones she wants onto their own plate. Now at the table, she drenches her pancakes in syrup and butter. She hums with happiness as the butter begins to melt on her tongue.
“You think Dad is going to sleep in till noon.”
Her daddy paused before speaking,
“It’s possible, you know, he’s not an early riser like us.”
Her dad sleeps like the dead. It can be fireworks going off right next to his ear, and he’ll barely move a muscle. Sometimes he can be up for days at a time, bags under his eyes, constantly yawning until he crashes. She saw him up for four days once before her daddy forced him to go sleep.
Daddy has mentioned before that Ray has sleeping problems, nightmares from a past they won’t tell her about. She asked about the scars on her dad’s stomach that are too big to be freckles, the way he has to wear certain types of shoes with cushions because his feet ache sometimes.
Her daddy hates the rain especially thunderstorms, he plays his guitar or turns up the volume of the record player to the max. He hates the sight of blood, she remembers him almost gagging at the sight of her bruised knee from softball.
They won’t tell her anything.
It annoys her.
“Just worry about being a kid.” Her dad would say when she asks. She does not understand why they are secretive about it; her parents are the most loving she’s ever seen. When she asks them about their past, they shut down.
There was a phase in her life where she thought they were bank robbers who never got caught.
It’s silly because they have a really nice house, daddy’s a music teacher, and her dad’s a mechanic who coaches her softball team. But somehow she gets any toys she wants, the best clothes at school, and her dads have the best cars on the lot.
In school, they are learning about the Long Walk, a decades-long walking competition that has ended so many lives that they have memorials across the country. If you make it till the end, you get one wish.
Fourteen years ago, it ended with two winners, something that had never happened before. It broke the system. The Major was shot dead in the fallout. However, the two winners managed to survive somehow.
One winner requested that the Long Walk should never exist. The other declares that there should be memorial gardens across the country dedicated to the lives lost. There isn’t much about what happens after mostly rumors about how they won a lot of money and just disappeared. Or they escaped to Canada to start a new life. It’s like a page of the textbook got ripped out.
It can’t be her parents … right?!
Nah.
That’s as crazy as her name. Penny.
“Why did you name me Penny anyway?”. She asks when Pete is driving her to softball practice.
“It’s an odd name, isn’t it?” That's what Pete says at first as he turns down the radio.
He knew this was going to happen; she always had questions. Forever curious. She was different, looked different. She didn’t speak about it, but she knew the kids spoke about her behind her back.
Penny had her daddy’s dark brown skin and brown eyes, but she had Ray’s ginger hair. However, hers was a bit darker, like wine, and she had small freckles that went across her nose. She was perfect in her dad eyes. But they’re her dads… they have to say that.
She shrugs, “Guess so.”
“So, when you were born, you were one pound seven ounces. They said if you were any smaller, you wouldn't have survived. We did everything right, and you still came two months early. We were so scared, your dad won’t let you leave his sight.
Until one night, I made him go have dinner with me in the cafeteria. He slept in the hospital room most of the time, and he needed some fresh air, you know? When we came back, there were doctors everywhere.
“They said-“ there was a catch in her dad’s voice, but he swallowed it and kept going,
“They said um your heart had stopped, but they were able to bring you back.” He says, “I had never seen your dad so upset. Pete flinches, remembering the way he had to physically remove them from the room. They had been through so much together, but that was something that would haunt him forever.
“You were a fighter, you didn’t give up, you got stronger.” He said finally, after a while.
“We had names bouncing around for weeks, nothing really stuck, we were taking you home when we bumped into a lady on the elevator.”
“Godness, she’s adorable, the older woman said, her pale manicured fingers brushing against her pink blanket.
“Thanks, Pete replies, “This little fighter is finally going home.”
“She’s so tiny, bless her heart.” Pete watches as she coos as he pulls the blanket closer to her chin. Ray smiles at the two of them and can't believe how lucky he is to have them in his life. The elevator halts to a stop, a soft ding as the doors open on the first floor to the parking lot. The woman digs into her pocket, placing a penny on their little bundle of joy’s blanket.
“I wish you all the luck in the world.”
Ray smiles, his lips curling up to show all of his teeth. For once, it feels like all the stress that was on his shoulders is gone. Ray and Pete share a look as the woman leaves. It’s like everything fell into place.
Penny.
The drive felt longer than usual, but when her dad’s truck reached the cracked gravel of the baseball field. Penny grabbed her backpack from her back seat. Then looking off into the distance, she could see her teammates, her dad grabbing equipment out of the shed. She gets out quickly,
“Hey.” She turns to see her dad, leaning over the passenger seat, their eyes meeting again.
“Your dad and I love you like crazy.” Penny nods with a smile, tightening the strap of her bag on her shoulder.
“I love you back.” Her dad’s smile mirrors her own, bright, warm, and everything in between.
“Alright, hit a home run for me.”
“Will do, she says, but then,
“I always wanted to know, why do you want me to keep being a kid so bad?”
“Because we didn’t get to be.”
“Not you two ganging up on me.” Penny looks over to see her dad in a faded black and white tee and striped pajamas standing in the doorway, rubbing his eyes. Her daddy grabs some slabs of bacon and places them on the skillet.
“Us ganging up on you… never.” Her daddy’s reply as he pours himself a cup of coffee. Her dad finally steps into the room, not before he stops at the table,
“Morning, Pen.” He says before she feels three pecks on the top of her head.
“Hi, Dad.” She says warmly, taking a bite of her pancake. She watches as her dads meet at the kitchen counter.
She watches her dads fold into each other like magnets. They never spend more than two days apart from each other. Their fingers brush as her daddy slides the coffee cup (caramel vanilla with two sugars) into his hand. Her dad’s eyes light up, and she can see his mouth form the words “for me.”
Penny rolls her eyes as if her daddy doesn’t do this every morning without fail.
Her dad’s large hand leaves the cup for a second to move to her daddy’s face, and he smiles before they kiss. It’s brief, but they wrapped around one another by the end of it. She sees her dad gently tug on her daddy’s shirt, rubbing circles into the fabric. They kiss again, murmuring words she can’t hear.
Their love is so soft like a quilt. She feels it when they stroke her hair when she has a nightmare and in her bones when they hug her so tight sometimes she can barely breathe. She doesn't know the whole story but their love is held together by so many stitches… love.. pain…recovery… They are love personified.
Penny watches in awe before she sees smoke rising from the skillet,
“Daddy, the bacon is burning.” Her parents detangle themselves from their embrace so Daddy can switch off the stove. Her dad is too busy laughing to worry about the burnt food.
“Baby, it’s not even that bad.” Her dad says, taking a bite. His cheeks are getting red by the second. Penny can see a small pout form on Daddy’s face. He takes cooking really seriously. Her dad kisses his cheek, a wet smack of lips, “Still good, I promise.”
Penny gets up too and pops a piece of bacon into her mouth. It was a little burnt, but it didn't taste terrible.
“Dad’s right, not terrible.” Pete rolls his eyes, but a smile forms on his face, his dimples visible. She walks over and wraps her arms around him. Her arms only reached around his waist. She was still so small for twelve.
Penny feels soft kisses on her head,
“Thank you Darlin.” Penny smiles at him.
“I’m so lucky.” Ray says, he cant help but smile as well.
“Alright, Alright, get in here.” Pete says, pulling Ray into the hug as well. They hug for a little while. Her dad breaks the silence,
“How about we finish up here and then head up to the field-
“I wanna show you my screwball I’ve been practicing.” Penny says excitedly.
“Alright, finish up so you can change clothes then we’ll go.”
“Kay.”
Pete and Ray watch as their little girl sits down at the table scarfing down the rest of her pancakes. Her auburn curls tucked behind her ears as she puts her baseball cap on her head, her dark brown skin shining as sunlight peaks through their window.
Ray thinks about how she was so small once. Her little hand wrapped around his finger when he rocked her to sleep. Her little giggle when Pete played her a song he made up for her on the spot.
Now she’s twelve and loves softball, something they can bond over together. He couldn’t believe it when she said she had an interest in it. He didn’t hesitate to buy her a mitt for her next birthday. Watching her eyes light up with her new mitt made him feel like the greatest dad in the world.
He can’t get enough of seeing her and Pete together. They are incredibly goofy, kind, and wear their hearts on their sleeves. He’s lost count of the amount of strays she’s brought home, begging her Daddy to help her nurse them back to health. He hopes she always has that empathy in her.
It wasn’t that long ago that he and Pete were shattered. Jagged bloody pieces of people that were almost inhuman. They had each other but we were keeping it together on a good day. Somehow they got lucky. They were able to make something beautiful. The best parts of themselves are in her.
“You alright.” Pete says softly, gently bumping his shoulder.
Ray wrinkles his nose, a silent tell that he was about to cry.
“Yeah, Ray lets out a laugh but it shakes a little.
“It’s just——we made her you know.” Ray wants to say more but words fail every time.
“It took us over three hundred miles to get here.” Pete says, giving his hand a squeeze.
Ray does it right back.
“I don’t regret it.” Ray says, he looks at Pete with this softness in his eyes that makes Pete’s heart flip.
“Do you?.” Ray asks even though he knows the answer.
Pete would walk through fire for them, their family means everything to him.
“No Ray, I don’t”.