After caring for sweet old lady Beatrice Trenton for over a year and hearing all about her brave paratrooper, grandson, Penelope is pleased to finally meet him. Sparks fly and before she knows it, she's calling him her boyfriend, and he is confident...
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PENELOPE
I watch Max putting his shoes on his feet before covering the party food with a cloth. It's my birthday and he's gone to so much effort, but now it's looking like we won't be enjoying it.
"I'll hopefully be there and back," he says, referring to the distressing phone call he just received from Maggie.
Maggie is Derek—his best friend who died last years—wife.
I sip on my glass of champagne. "It's okay. The food can't go cold. It can wait."
A torn expression pulls from his face as he stands up and rushes over to me, cupping my cheeks to lay a sweet kiss on my lips. "I know it's your birthday and it isn't the best timing, but I need to check."
I savour the taste of his lips a while longer before pushing him back. "Go."
All six-foot-six of him backs away from me. The anxiety showing across his face. It's like he's torn in two on what to do, but he won't settle if he doesn't go and check on them.
I have met Maggie a couple of times and she's pleasant enough. The grief of losing her husband ravaging her. Max says she's a completely different person now. Angry. Desperate. Lost.
"Why don't you start the film without me?" he suggests as he reaches the front door. "You'll miss it otherwise."
I nod, trying extremely hard not to feel disappointed. The poor woman was sobbing and screaming down the phone. "Okay."
After one more withering glance, he turns and leaves. I'm sitting in silence for a while, sipping on my champagne. Contemplating everything. It's a whole year of having Max in my life and I couldn't be more grateful.
I know he feels a duty to Derek, and Maggie is his friend too, but I can't help stop some of the dark thoughts from entering my head. If they're growing closer? What do they talk about when they're together if Max is bonding with Benjamin enough for the kid to think of him as a father?
There's no help in worrying, I know this, but I can't help it. Especially when, like tonight, he leaves me during a special moment to go check on Maggie.
I wonder if I'm being unreasonable. Almost acting in a way that he has to choose between us both, but he's struggling too. Even if he tries to hide it. The tossing and turning at night. The overanalysing of everything and everyone.
I just worry he will spread himself too thin and end up paying the price for it. Twenty minutes pass by and I pick at the tiny sandwiches he prepared earlier, pouring some more champagne and sipping it while I switch on the telly.
I do my best at trying to concentrate, but a couple of hours goes by and I'm not in the mood anymore. After switching off the television, I put all the party-style food away in the fridge and head upstairs to get ready for bed.
