Re: Quicklog: Penny and Cris
[Cris watched Penny chew on the inside of her cheek, all nervous habit, and he tried to read the expressions that passed over her face, even as she dropped her gaze to their shoes when he put his hand on her shoulder. He ducked a little, looking at her.—Everyone was a better person than him, it seemed. He could see the slivers of something like sacrifice on Penny's face, and the torment that came with that. He was in the throes of similar shards himself, and like recognizes like. But that wasn't what made him think she was a better person than him. It was the strength of her will he could feel, even when all it did was twist in her gut like a knife, ribboning intestines and the like,—and still, she'd rather Olivia think she abandoned her (she didn't say it out loud, but he could see it was something like that warring in her), than anything else, 'cause of the pain that would cause Olivia.
That was what got him.
He couldn't bear the thought of someone he loved thinking he ran out on them. Whether it was pride or ego, or whatever, he just—well, he wasn't that kinda guy and he didn't want anybody—least of all whoever he was with—to think he was. He would never do that. It wasn't that Cris didn't want people to move on—Juana, he hoped, was happy—it was just... I dunno. He just wasn't as good a person as Penny.
And what about closure? It had to be worse not knowing, right?
Cris was opening his mouth to say something. He even got so far as to say,] But she's just gonna wonder—[When a squeal erupted from the top of the stairs and Tornado Teresita came pattering down in jammies and pigtails. Calling, with her arms out,] Daddy, Daddy!
[Daddy scooped to pick up the little girl who ran to him, and he held her up with a grin.] M'ija—[They kissed, and Cris had just enough time to get Teresa back on the ground when she reached little brown fingers up toward him.] Daddy, your chin. [She looked like she didn't know whether to giggle or if she should be worried, something in her papi's demeanor setting her off. But, when Cris smiled, she followed suit, white and wide awake.] You look really silly, [she informed him with a giggle and a glance at Penny.]
Yeah, I was in a hurry to see you, mocosa. [Cris tugged on one sleep-touseled pigtail and shifted to grab the stack of DVDs he recognized from home.] Tia said you and her and Carson made a pie, but I'm thinkin' it might be moldy.
[Teresa rolled her eyes, in what was a reflection purely of her dad.] It's sweet potato! I made it green, like for Sam. Tia said a sweet potato is a yam! [She looked proud of this news and Cris tapped her under the chin affectionately,] You think Sam I Am is into green eggs and yams, baby? Recoge tus cosas.
[As the niña went around, finding her shoes and socks and all her stuff she left out, Cris turned back to Penny.] You'n'me, Chinese, this weekend, hm? Maybe Carson can watch Teresa. I'll buy you a drink—[He gestured to the house around them, as if to say 'for this'—for the mess he knew his daughter was partially responsible for. By the then, Teresita was coming back with her Dora backpack, her winter hat stuffed over her pigtails, her galoshes on, and her hands out for the green pie. Cris passed her the DVDs instead and took up the pie dish himself.] What d'you say, Teresa?
[Her recitation was dutiful, but she smiled, hugging Penny hard before they left.] Thank you, Tia. Tell the baby bye for me—[Cris looked at her, one eyebrow quirked.]—please!
[With his free hand, Cris patted Penny's back as they tromped to the door. He gave her a meaningful look and another squeeze to the shoulder.] I'll call you. [Teresa said bye one more time, only to be shushed (it was late), and father and daughter piled into the car guttered by the curb, little girl waving from the backseat as they pulled away.]