Page 88 of After We Fall

As she ends her set with a powerful crescendo, tears fill my eyes, and my joy scale pushes the upper edge of ten.

The claps of everyone in the room are muted through the headphones, but the beaming faces and robust hugs speak louder than the volume.

Bianca looks at me shyly under her lashes, a girlish gesture I’ve never seen from her.

I pat my heart three times, then send the love to her across the room with my palm. She repeats the action back to me.

After the group celebration dies down, Harlan points to my headphones, making gestures with his hands that I think mean he wants to talk to me.

When I slide the headphones off, a few strands of hair catch on the plastic.

“I want to know what’s going on here,” Harlan says to me as I try to untangle my hair.

“What?”

Luke chuckles, taking steps toward me. He puts a finger to my cheek, drawing the hair back and curling the strand around my ear.

“That.” Harlan points at Luke. “That right there. What is that?”

Luke turns to face his friend and lifts his chin. “What’s wrong, man?”

“Harlan,” Meredith warns.

“I got this, sweetheart.” Harlan crosses his arms and takes a wide stance as if he’s going to face off with Luke. “I think I’d like to know your intentions in regard to Penelope.”

And with one simple statement, Harlan plugs a childhood wound that had been leaking, unnoticed, for years.

No one has ever asked anything like that on my behalf. I have no siblings. My father wasn’t in my life. My mother never had the chance. Foster homes didn’t afford the opportunity. And the Nelsons wouldn’t think to ask someone that kind of question because they were too busy sizing up my dates as future political allies or political risks.

Luke puffs his chest out and steps forward. “Not sure that’s any of your business, man.”

Before he can say anything else, I curl my hands around his bicep. “Luke, it’s okay.”

“I think you get that I’ve known you for years,” Harlan says, pressing the issue. “And I’ve never known you to stick around the Springs for more than a few weeks, much less develop a relationship.” He points to me. “This isn’t just anybody. This is our Penelope.”

Not just a plug. Harlan removes pieces of this particular wound one word at a time.

“Don’t appreciate you bringing this up right now,” Luke says.

With one glance at the people in the room, I realize this is, in fact, the perfect time to bring it up. I don’t know the extent of Tanya’s and Bianca’s dating experiences, but based on their histories, my guess is that no one ever bothered to ask what someone’s intentions were on their behalf either.

Both of their womanly faces have a girlish awe to them as the conversation between Harlan and Luke unfolds.

This is another piece of beauty.

Luke’s words come back to me. The beauty’s in the wild. The unknown. The unpredictable. The letting go. The possibilities.

“Let him ask you, Luke,” I whisper.

Luke cranes his neck to look down at me.

“Please.” I squeeze his arm. “Let him ask.”

He grits his teeth but nods to me, then does the same to Harlan.

“What are your intentions in regard to Penelope?” Harlan repeats.

With a calm, deep, sure voice, Luke states, “I intend to date Penelope.”