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When she'd insisted that he buy the suit, she'd never thought about him wearing it in this situation. She'd only meant to keep him out of ridiculous checked suits, rhinestone cowboy duds, and anything else his warped fashion sense insisted upon. She pictured him wearing it for important work stuff (and maybe on dates). Not like this, never like this.
He blindly reaches out for her, and as the sleeve of his black suit brushes against her arm, she takes his hand and squeezes it, trying her best to give him the comfort he needs as they bury his Meemaw.
He asks, once, about his name, curious about why he's burdened with the moniker of the oldest port in the Gulf of Mexico west of New Orleans.
She almost smiles; their son's so much like Sheldon it hurts. She bites her tongue to keep from waxing poetic about falling in love, humid summer days sliding slowly into magnolia-scented nights spent under a thousand stars, about the smell of a storm rolling in from across the Gulf as she kisses Sheldon senseless in his childhood bedroom.
She lies instead, telling him that she was overly medicated when she named him Galveston.
It's been five years since her “big break.” Five years since she's really had a chance to talk to the guys, or Amy, her self proclaimed bestie. That what happens when you become the new “it” girl of Hollywood. Things are slowing down now though. She realizes she misses her nerds, misses them something fierce. Sheldon most of all; surprise, surprise. His presence was not something one experienced every day.
Looking down at her phone Penny takes a deep breath before dialing. It thankfully (?) goes to voice mail.
Comments 76
It was an unspoken rule in their apartment. No one brought attention to it. No one wanted to think about it. No one wanted to think about why.
Why he glared at anyone who attempted to break it even momentarily.
Why she always abided by it, no matter the situation.
Why he had allowed her the privilege of it.
Why no one said anything about it, but they all knew.
The seat beside Sheldon’s spot was hers and hers only.
No one was allowed to sit there except her.
The middle seat on the couch was her spot, Penny's spot.
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When she'd insisted that he buy the suit, she'd never thought about him wearing it in this situation. She'd only meant to keep him out of ridiculous checked suits, rhinestone cowboy duds, and anything else his warped fashion sense insisted upon. She pictured him wearing it for important work stuff (and maybe on dates). Not like this, never like this.
He blindly reaches out for her, and as the sleeve of his black suit brushes against her arm, she takes his hand and squeezes it, trying her best to give him the comfort he needs as they bury his Meemaw.
Reply
The imagery in this was lovely, but sad at the end. Very nicely done!
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He asks, once, about his name, curious about why he's burdened with the moniker of the oldest port in the Gulf of Mexico west of New Orleans.
She almost smiles; their son's so much like Sheldon it hurts. She bites her tongue to keep from waxing poetic about falling in love, humid summer days sliding slowly into magnolia-scented nights spent under a thousand stars, about the smell of a storm rolling in from across the Gulf as she kisses Sheldon senseless in his childhood bedroom.
She lies instead, telling him that she was overly medicated when she named him Galveston.
Reply
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It's been five years since her “big break.” Five years since she's really had a chance to talk to the guys, or Amy, her self proclaimed bestie. That what happens when you become the new “it” girl of Hollywood. Things are slowing down now though. She realizes she misses her nerds, misses them something fierce. Sheldon most of all; surprise, surprise. His presence was not something one experienced every day.
Looking down at her phone Penny takes a deep breath before dialing. It thankfully (?) goes to voice mail.
“Hey Sheldon. It's Penny...”
She's at a loss of what else to say.
“I miss you,” she decides on before hanging up.
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