The End of Forever
Chapter Five: Finding Rhyme and Reason in the MadnessIt was a goodbye get together, Penelope had decided early on in the day, guised as a birthday party for her.
The house smelled of food, baked goods of all varieties. From the moment Penelope woke up, her senses had been accosted with the smell of cinnamon and sugar, lasagnas and casseroles and sweets and comfort foods. There was also family. Family everywhere: in the kitchen, on the furniture in the living room, on the instruments in the basement. It was a celebration of life, and the house was full of family that Penelope hadn't seen in two years or more. As happy as they all were to spend time with Taylor, to make peace with the happenings and say goodbye in their own way, Penelope felt like she was on show for the whole world to see, and it made her uncomfortable. It was the day before her birthday, after all. She was surprised, and yet not, to realize she'd let it slip completely from her mind. Nobody in the family had forgotten, however, and she'd heard the rehearsed "happy birthday" at least twice from every family member, it seemed. Every family member except Viggo, who was still avoiding her like she had the plague.
As often as she could, Penelope snuck out the back door to sit on the porch swing and have a breather. All of the commotion of having so many people over -- aunts and uncles, grandparents, cousins -- made it all feel more real. A couple days had passed since the morning when Taylor had come down and sang his song with Penelope, and since then, Penelope had found more peace within herself. She still felt guilty, of course, for leaving her family for so long, for not staying in touch, for leaving them behind as she went to follow dreams that had never materialized. But she knew she couldn't dwell on that. She knew there were more important things to deal with; her father would have wanted her to be strong. For her mother, for her brothers, for herself.
The early evening air was cool as it picked up around her, raising goosebumps on her bare arms. She hadn't grabbed a jacket before she'd come outside. The house was stifling with as many people as there were stuffed within the walls, that the thought hadn't even crossed her mind. And really, if she wanted to be completely honest, the breeze felt nice. Even if the wind sent the occasional shiver up her spine, she couldn't complain. It made her feel alive. And, alive she was. There was still so much life to live. It was unfair that her father's life was being cut short so early. He was barely forty, should have at least another forty in him, but those were the cards he'd been dealt. And in her heart of hearts she knew the truth: Taylor had lived hard and fast. He'd seen more, experienced more than people with twice as much life. He'd caught his dream by the hand and had wrangled it in, had held on to it for as long as he could.
Penelope knew there was nothing for him to be regretful of. He lived fast and loved hard and, in the end, he wound up with a house full of people who cared deeply about him. He was rich with life. He was so lucky, and she was lucky to have him.
Just when she thought that she was going to start crying again, more tears that never seemed to dry completely, the back door creaked open and she sniffled, inconspicuously swiping at her nose and eyes. When she was sure she didn't have tears on her face or splotchy cheeks, she turned to see who'd come out to join her.
Jangling with each other, Penelope saw her oldest brother with his mop of red hair and her oldest cousin with his mop of bleach blonde. Everett ducked down to try to sneak out of Ezra's grasp, but Ezra was fast, locking his arm around Everett's neck in a chokehold. Playfully menacing, Ezra laughed while Everett struggled. "What's the magic word?"
Bent over and completely vulnerable and losing whatever it was they were playing for, Everett growled, "never."
Ezra's grasp tightened and Everett squirmed. "Say it or die," Ezra threatened, but the threat was an empty one, Penelope could tell. She crossed her arms over her chest as she watched the boys wrestling match play out before her. In the time that Everett was silent, still obviously avoiding the white flag, Ezra's arm tightened even more around the blonde's neck and it seemed to do the trick.
"Mercy!" Everett cried, his voice high and strangled. "Mercy, mercy, mercy! You're right and I'm wrong." With a smug smile, Ezra released their cousin from the death grip and stood up straight, smoothing down the front of his shirt. "You little…" Everett started, but stopped abruptly when Ezra's eyebrows rose in challenge. "…winner. Shit, man." Everett rolled his neck around on his shoulders a few times to work out the muscles that Ezra had just abused.
"Did I miss something important?" Penelope spoke up from her position, and both sets of eyes turned to her.
"No," Everett said first, his voice low and glum. Behind him, Ezra smirked. He stepped around the shorter boy to sit next to his sister on the swing, and then Everett came around and sat next to Ezra, bringing up the third butt on the swing. Penelope shifted slightly to look at her brother, but regretted it immediately when he reached up to touch the soft skin beneath her eye.
"Have you been crying?" He asked, his brows furrowed in concern.
Quickly, Penelope shook her head and ducked away, swiping at her face again as her brother dropped his hand down into his lap. "No," she lied, and Ezra clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in protest.
"Have too," he said, but his voice wasn't heavy, like he was about to pry. Instead, he suggested something else. "Hey, we were just talking about taking a walk to get away from the craziness in there. You should come with us."
Penelope turned her head back around to look at Ezra and Everett, both watching her with similar faces of interest. They wanted her to just…leave? She couldn't do that. Hadn't she already spent enough time away?
"I don't know," she said slowly, drawing in a breath. "Dad…"
"Will still be here when we get back," Ezra promised and Penelope bit her lip as, behind him, Everett nodded his head enthusiastically in agreement. "C'mon," he urged. He stood, himself, and then grabbed his sister's wrist and pulled her up next to him. "We won't be gone long."
On the other side of the door that separated the three of them from the rest of the commotion inside, there was a shattering sound. Penelope froze along with Ezra and Everett. Everything inside was still and silent and Penny's blood ran cold. She didn't move a muscle until laughter followed the crash, and then the commotion started back up as though nothing had happened. "Should I…" she started, but Ezra was already shaking his head, pulling her away from the swing and down the steps into the back lawn with Everett trailing.
"Back before you know it," he promised, leading the crew around the house. Just around the corner, Ezra stopped abruptly nearly bumping into another person sneaking around the house. Behind Ezra, Penelope stopped quickly and Everett nearly bumped into her.
"Viggo!" Ezra gasped. "What are you doing sneaking around the house?"
Sourly, he responded, "probably the same thing you guys are doing sneaking around the other way." Ezra, Penelope, and Everett stared at Viggo blankly until he further explained. "Trying to escape the madness?"
"Ohhh," a chorus of agreements resounded.
"We're going for a walk," Ezra told his youngest brother. "Come with us?"
Hesitantly, Viggo eyed Penelope and then shook his head. Penny's stomach clenched at the thought. The last they'd spoken was during their argument, and she still hadn't told him that she'd officially ended it with Tony, that she was back in Tulsa for good, that she was sorry for ever leaving in the first place. "I don't think so," Viggo declined and pushed past the group, further into the back yard.
Before he could get very far, Everett reached out for his arm and tugged him back. "Come on," he urged. "Not much escaping if you stay here."
Penelope kept her eyes to the ground, her chin dropped to her chest. She didn't want to see the defiance or the hatred in her brother's eyes. She wasn't sure she could take the guilt of the rift she'd created between them. More than anything, she wanted to fix things between them and mend their differences, but she wasn't sure how she was supposed to do that when her baby brother couldn't even stand to be around her.
"Come on," Everett continued trying to persuade Penelope's brother to join them. "I'll share my smokes with you."
Penny's eyes shot up the boys. Ezra was standing to the side with his arms crossed over his chest while Everett waved a pack of Marlboro Reds in front of Viggo enticingly. Viggo sighed and shrugged. "Fine," he agreed, and Penelope cocked her head.
"You smoke?" She asked, and almost immediately regretted the way her voice had sounded so judgmental. She couldn't help it, though. Viggo wasn't even seventeen yet. Not to mention all of the things they'd heard growing up about how bad smoking was for you, how it could ruin your voice, or even kill you.
Viggo ignored his sister as they started to walk around the house and straight to the sidewalk that ran in front of their house, and all of the others on the street. Shoulder to shoulder with Everett as they walked, the younger two led the group while Ezra and Penelope drew up the back. Worried as she was, Penny couldn't bring herself to say anything to Viggo in regards to the nasty habit. They all had their vices, after all, and she'd be a hypocrite to berate him for his own. But still, didn't he know that smoking could kill him? Did he just not care?
"How long has he been…" Penelope trailed off her hushed whisper to Ezra as they walked side by side behind Viggo and Everett.
"I really don't know," he replied softly, "but it's gotten worse since Everett got old enough to buy his own."
Penelope crossed her arms over her chest as she feet scuffed against the concrete sidewalk beneath them. "I don't like it," she groused and Ezra shrugged in agreement. They both knew there wasn't much they could do to stop their youngest brother, or their cousin. Everett was an adult, and Viggo was old enough to become bitter and hold it against them for a long time. Besides, Viggo was mad enough at her as it was; she didn't need another reason to pile on top of the others. What she need to do, she knew, was to make peace with her youngest brother. She needed to fix the things she'd broken, needed to patch up the relationship she'd worn thin.
"Come on," she said to Ezra, and then skipped ahead to catch up with the other boys. She took a spot next to Viggo while Ezra took the other side next to Everett, nudging the bleach blonde boy with his elbow as they stepped into line.
Beside her, Penelope could feel Viggo stiffen, but he didn't look at her or even say anything. It was as though he was trying to act like she wasn't even there as he puffed away at the cigarette he'd gotten from Everett. From the argument they'd had a few days ago, she knew at least two reasons he was mad at her. One reason was just simply because she'd left. She hadn't thought, when she left or while she was gone, that it would affect her youngest brother so much, but apparently had. The second reason he was mad at her was because he figured she was just waiting for their father to die so that she could return to Tony and Los Angeles.
She couldn't change the fact that she'd left, but she could decide whether or not she was going back, and she'd already made her decision. She'd already called Tony and made it official. While Ezra and Everett continued their play fight from earlier, bumping elbows and kicking feet out at each other, Penelope nudged Viggo to get his attention. He stepped away from her and lifted his cigarette to his lips, keeping his eyes trained to the walkway in front of them.
"Hey," she said softly, trying a different approach. Viggo didn't look at her, but she could tell from his open body language that he was at least listening to her. She shoved her hands in her pockets as they continued to walk past all of the houses she'd grown up with, playing in and around. There were stories with nearly every house. That's how she knew she was home. "I just wanted you to know that I'm not going back." Whether he believed her or even cared was still up in the air, but she needed him to at least know. It needed to be out in the open.
She watched him turn his head just slightly to her, appraising the look on her face. She hoped he could detect every bit of sincerity she had in her body, because she was being truthful. She wasn't going back; there was nothing to go back to that was more important than where she was at that very moment. There was nothing in Los Angeles that meant more to her than the family she hadn't seen in two years.
While Viggo didn't have anything to say in response to her admission, Penelope was sure she saw a faint smile tug at the corner of his lips before he turned his head. He redirected his attention to shoving Everett back after Ezra had knocked him into him. The second shove pushed the blonde back into Ezra, who shoved him back into Viggo and before she knew it, Penelope was witness to a full out shoving match.
She smiled to herself. Things certainly felt like they were back to normal.
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The sun had long-since set by the time Ezra, Penelope, Everett and Viggo returned to the house. Penelope was sort of surprised, and yet not, to find that many of the same cars were still parked in front of her house. Many members of the family had been there since the early hours of the morning, and had stayed past dark.
The group had walked around town for a couple of hours, killing time by bringing up old memories and rehashing old stories from their unusual childhoods. None of them had ever known normalcy. Their fathers had been famous, had traveled around the world up until only recently when they'd decided they'd take a couple years off. Still, they'd never officially broken up, and none of the kids could see them ever calling it quits.
Penny didn't want to even think about it, let alone bring it up, but she wondered what would become of the band once her father died. She wondered how her uncles would handle it, how the fans that they still had would react. Did they even know their beloved pianist was sick? Were they aware that he didn't have much life left in him?
Penelope shoved the thoughts from her mind. Despite the circumstances, things were going well. Viggo was still hardly talking to her, but at least he'd managed a few civil words in her direction. And she'd cherished those words with everything inside of her. Things also seemed to be less tense in general. She hoped that Viggo was slowly coming to terms with her being back, and she was hoping that he believed she would actually stay. Maybe it would just take seeing to believe. Even if it took that long, Penelope was determined to show him just how determined she was to fix things and make them right.
Viggo led the four of them through the front door, Everett right behind him, and Ezra with his arm around Penelope's waist, and her head on his shoulder. She was feeling calm and relaxed. When she'd first jumped on the plane at the LAX in Los Angeles, she'd been a bundle of nerves. Even as she'd walked through the same front door with Ezra that very first day, she'd felt something unsettled deep within her bones. With every breath she took, she could feel it. Something was wrong, something bad was happening to her family, and she hated it. But the time that she'd spent with her family, reconnecting with her father and her mother and her brothers had changed her. She was sad, of course, but she was no longer afraid.
Or at least, that's what she thought until she walked back through that front door with Ezra beside her, much like she had that very first day.
Her chest tightened at the sight, and her blood ran cold. Off to the side of the room half of the family was gathered around the chair that her father had always loved. Her mother had threatened to throw it out so many times -- it didn't match, it was distasteful, it had holes and stains and wobbly legs. But Taylor loved it, and Natalie loved Taylor, so she'd never had the heart to throw it away. The only one who ever sat in that chair was Taylor and, as Penelope registered what was happening, she surged forward, out of Ezra's grasp, and pushed through the family.
In front of her, she found her father slumped over in the ratty old chair. "Daddy?" She asked, and finally let out the air she'd been holding hostage in her chest as he slowly lifted his gray eyes to look at her. "What's wrong?"
His head cocked to the side a little, but it was accompanied by a lazy smile that sent a surge of warmth through her veins. "I'm just tired, baby," he said. "Too much excitement for one day."
"Help me get him to bed," Penelope heard from behind her. She turned to see her Uncle Zac moving around her to help Taylor up out of the chair, and then Ezra was on the other side, helping to pull him up.
Penny caught her father's eyes in the commotion as the rest of the family stepped aside to make room for the three of them. "They treat me like I'm an invalid," he said, but his words weren't bitter or hateful. In a way, they were amused and Penelope imagined that, in better health, his blue eyes would have sparkled like the most gorgeous body of water.
Penelope couldn't stand by and watch her brother and uncle help her stiff and wobbling father to his room, so she followed them in, fluffing his pillows as they helped him into bed clothes, and pulling the blankets down for him. Within minutes, Penelope looked up and saw that her mother was in the room, doing much of the same things, preparing him for bed, making sure he'd be as comfortable as possible. Maybe it was a bit of an overkill, Penelope thought, watching the room full of people helping her father get ready for bed of all things, but it warmed her heart, too, to know that so many people cared about him. That all of those people out in the main part of the house weren't just there because they felt obligated, but because they loved Taylor. They loved him, and he loved them.
Zac and Ezra finally got Taylor into bed and left the room. Natalie asked all of the required questions while Taylor assured her that he was fine and would be fine through the night and shooed her back to entertaining the guests. Then it was just Penelope and Taylor again and, without a hesitated thought, Penelope picked up the questioning where her mother had left off.
"Penny," Taylor chuckled softly. "You are just like her."
She bit her lip and rocked on her heels at the edge of his bed. "That's not such a bad thing," she said, reaching a hand out to push hair away from his forehead. "She loves you so much." Taylor smiled and closed his eyes. He was exhausted, that much Penelope could tell. It was only fair to let him get some rest. It probably had been a little too overwhelming with so many people over, but she knew her father probably wouldn't have wanted it any other way. "You sure you don't need anything?" She asked one last time and Taylor shook his head.
"I'll be fine. Just need a few good dreams and I'll be back up and at ‘em."
"Okay," Penelope conceded with a smile. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to her father's warm forehead. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," he repeated. His eyes closed as Penelope stepped away from the bed. At the door, she paused and look back at him watching her leave. "I love you," he said when they locked eyes and Penelope nodded.
"Love you, too." From the doorway, with one hand on the knob of the door, Penelope blew her father a kiss. He smiled and caught it in the air before pressing it to his cheek.
Penelope grinned at the silly gesture and rolled her eyes as she opened the door, letting some of the extra light and sound from the rest of the house filter in. "Get some rest," she instructed, her words failing to be stern with the grin plastered on her face.
"See you in the morning," he called out to her as she closed the door softly behind her, back to the party, and the family, and the comfort of home.
Penelope was home.