Page 38 of Keeping Penny

Every minute that he’d spent around her was fascinating. How her brain worked, how she compensated for not being able to see. She was funny and smart, even a little sassy. She wasn’t afraid to get dirty and had an insatiable thirst for knowledge. About everything.

Pyro saw a little bit of himself in her, as well. Every time she was given something, no matter how small, she was incredibly grateful, just as he’d been as a kid.

A kid’s meal from a fast-food restaurant that included a small toy inside? She acted as if she’d been given the moon. When he’d brought home a T-shirt from the base that had ARMY written across the front, she declared it her “favorite piece of clothing ever”—and Penny said she’d slept in it that night, then cried when she wasn’t allowed to wear it a second day in a row.

Last night, Bowie had called and asked if he’d go with her to her new school in the morning. It took a moment for him to realize she’d called him all by herself, without Penny even realizing. Her mom was bringing her to the school to get enrolled, and it was more than obvious Bowie was nervous.

Of course, he’d agreed…as long as it was all right with her mom. He then asked Bowie to bring the phone to Penny, so he could talk to her.

Penny had been equally surprised to find Bowie had called him without her knowledge, but not surprised at all that the girl had memorized his number. She had a great memory, and Penny told him during the call that she’d made Bowie learn their new address and phone number, as well.

Pyro was relieved when Penny had accepted the phone he’d gotten her. He’d been able to add a phone line to his current plan with no trouble; it had actually made his bill go down, which made no sense, but he wasn’t going to complain.

He was headed to Penny’s apartment right now to walk with the mother/daughter duo to Bowie’s new school. He’d woken up more than thirty minutes before his alarm went off this morning, which was unheard of for him. But…restless. The anticipation of being included in this momentous occasion for Bowie was on par with how he’d felt a few times before Christmas and his birthday, when he’d been in foster homes where he was treated like part of the family. He hadn’t always been included in holidays, and the knowledge that there were presents with his name on them, ready to be opened in the morning, had been a huge deal on those rare occasions.

PT had dragged, and he didn’t even care that Casper decided this morning was a good time for wind sprints in the sand, Pyro’s least favorite workout.

He’d taken extra care with his appearance, even going so far as to use the scented body wash he’d picked up somewhere along the line instead of the unscented Ivory soap he usually preferred. He’d also meticulously trimmed his beard so not one stray hair was out of place.

He was nervous. And Pyro never got nervous. He’d flown in some seriously scary missions and not once had he felt like he did right now. He’d always been confident in his abilities. But one little six-year-old girl and her mom made him feel things he’d never felt before.

He wasn’t sure why he felt this way. All he was doing was walking with Penny and Bowie to her new school, for God’s sake. But Bowie already had him wrapped around her little finger, and anything she wanted, he’d bend over backward to give her.

He parked his Chevy Malibu and jogged to the door of their building. He was immediately buzzed in, cleared by the security guard at the desk, and, too impatient to wait for the elevator, took the steps two at a time to the third floor. Penny opened the door before he had to knock.

“We’re running late,” she said breathlessly. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe we’re going to be late on her first day.”

Pyro stepped into the apartment. “What’s up? I thought for sure Bowie would be up and ready to go hours before it was time to leave.”

“She claims nothing she has to wear is good enough. That she wants to make a good impression but doesn’t like any of her clothes.”

“That doesn’t sound like Bowie.”

“I know. She’s never cared about clothes before. But maybe it’s because she never really had to. She spent most of her days with the lady who lived next door in Gabon. Didn’t interact with kids. And it wasn’t as if she had a lot of choice in her clothing. Now that she has a dozen things to choose from, it’s messing with her head.”

Twelve outfits didn’t seem like all that many to Pyro, but he wasn’t an expert on six-year-olds outfits. “You want me to talk to her?”

“Yes!” Penny said without hesitation. “I’ve got to finish putting together her lunch. She didn’t like any of my suggestions and was on the verge of tears when you arrived.”

Suddenly, Pyro kind of regretted offering his help, because what did he know about comforting or reassuring someone Bowie’s age? But he couldn’t take it back now, and wouldn’t even if he could, because the relief on Penny’s face that he might be able to get her daughter to move made him feel ten feet tall.

He walked down the hall and knocked on Bowie’s door before pushing it open.

Bowie was sitting on the floor, on the mattress Obi-Wan had bought for her—the bed frame Pyro ordered hadn’t been delivered yet—surrounded by various articles of clothing.

“Hey, Bowie-Bear, I hear you’re having trouble deciding what to wear for your first day of school?”

She looked up in his direction, and Pyro’s heart nearly broke at seeing the tears in her eyes. She looked so much like her mom. Straight, long black hair, tiny button nose, and full lips that were currently trembling as she attempted to hold back her tears, with no luck. She was going to be a petite woman when she grew up, like Penny. Right now, she simply looked tiny.

Pyro moved without thought, heading to the mattress and lowering himself next to her. He put his arm around her, and she immediately rose to her knees and leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I don’t think I want to go to school,” she said with a sniff.

“What? You were so excited last night when you called. You’ll get to make so many friends and learn all sorts of new things.”

“What if nobody likes me?” she whispered. “I’m blind. Weird. Not like the other kids. I can’t see if they’re laughing or pointing at me. Can’t see if they’re making faces at me.”

“Not like you? Bowie, you’re the most likable kid in the world.”