As the last car left, the cemetery settled into silence.
Warren opened the car door, reached his hand over the roof, and leaned down, saying, “Come out.”
Penelope shifted her somewhat bulky body and placed her hand in the palm he extended. Together, they walked back to the spot they had just left.
“Please accompany me one more time,” he said, looking up at the tombstone nestled in the shade of the trees.
“Of course,” she replied, her words few. Holding his hand, they ascended the steps once more. The path they had just walked felt different now, with his presence beside her.
She walked beside him, acutely aware of his sadness.
He held her hand, drawing strength from her presence.
“Are you tired?” he whispered, his voice brushing gently against her ear like a soft breeze.
Penelope shook her head, trying to alleviate his heavy emotions. She replied in a half-joking manner, “Think about it, we actually have something in common.”
With a smile, she continued, “Your father had affairs. So did mine. But you’re luckier than me; your father still loved you.”
“He doesn’t love you?” Warren asked dumbfoundedly.
“Besides his career, his attention is all on his second wife. He doesn’t pay us any mind.” Penelope murmured.
“What does your father do?” Warren asked, looking at her.
“He’s a biologist,” Penelope replied casually.
Warren stopped and asked, “Is your father Mark Seinfeld?”
“You know him?” Penelope looked at him in surprise.
“He won the Nobel Prize in Biology three years ago for the discovery of Helicobacter pylori,” Warren shared what he knew.
Penelope smiled sarcastically, “Perhaps…”
Warren couldn’t quite understand. He said, “As a scientist, he should understand the importance of education. As his daughter, you didn’t even go to college?”
“I went to school. I just didn’t go to college,” Penelope replied, tilting her head and coughing.
Warren felt a touch of anger; he genuinely couldn’t understand her father’s actions.
“I’m not angry with him, and you don’t need to be either. Let’s forget about it. Don’t talk about him,” Penelope waved her hand and crouched down to arrange the messy white flowers in front of the tombstone.
A man who had received the highest scientific honor, and yet his daughter struggled to attend college.
He hadn’t done her any favors.
Fatherly love, for some children, had always been a luxury.
“I will definitely fulfill a father’s duties and raise him,” Warren said from behind her.
Penelope turned back, and after a moment of surprise, she smiled and replied, “You don’t have to feel so pressured. My father is the minimum standard. You just need to be better than him.”
He extended his hand and helped her up.
Warren said earnestly, “I’ll do my best.”
“Are you a Virgo?”
Warren raised an eyebrow, puzzled by her question.
Penelope licked her lips and waved her hand. “Never mind, no need to stress. We’re first-time parents. We’ll figure things out as we go and correct our mistakes.”
He reached out and pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. Warren whispered, “Thank you.”
Penelope was a bit puzzled, not sure what he was thanking her for. He seemed to sense her confusion, patting her shoulder and saying, “Let’s go meet my father. He hasn’t seen you before his passing.”
“Alright.” Penelope quickly stood upright, facing the tombstone nervously, and said, “Hello, old Mr. Duncan! My name is Penelope Seinfeld. I have a mischievous boy in my belly. He’s your grandson.”
The picture on the tombstone depicted a man in his forties, looking handsome and smiling at the camera. He bore a striking resemblance to Warren.
“He looks like you,” Penelope stammered.
Warren held her hand and reassured her, “Don’t be afraid. Dealing with him is much easier than dealing with the one at home.”
A hint of worry crossed Penelope’s face as she continued to stare at the pictures on the tombstone, curious and apprehensive. “You’re not afraid he’ll hear us?”
“If he knew you were here, he’d be pleased,” Warren said with confidence, his smile warm.
Penelope lowered her head and gently caressed her own pregnant belly. Her stomach had swelled with new hopes.
She didn’t know for certain whether Warren’s father would have been pleased about the baby coming from her, but in that moment, a sense of hope and anticipation filled her heart. This child, connected to her by blood, was destined to become her closest and most cherished family member in this world.
Baby, come on quickly; I want to see if you are like me or your father.
You’d better have Dad’s bright eyes and high nose, his wisdom, his strength, and all his excellent qualities.
As for me, except for a fearless heart, don’t learn from me.
On that day, at a place marked by death, Penelope held onto a hope for a new life.
****
One month after Warren’s father passed away, Warren gradually recovered, and the atmosphere at home became much more relaxed.
Penelope was having lunch at the table. Warren kept account of time beside her.
“There was still one minute left,” he said, his eyebrows not lifted, but his words carrying a warning.
After she finished drinking the last bowl of soup, Penelope reluctantly put down the spoon. “You went too far!”
“You ate too much,” he replied calmly.
“Not too much! Pregnant women eat as much as me!” Penelope patted the table.
He raised his eyebrow, and Penelope raised her hand and put it behind her back.
“The doctor said that the baby couldn’t be too heavy; otherwise, it would be very hard for you to deliver him,” Warren beckoned Mrs. Brown to clean up the table.
Mrs. Brown looked at Penelope’s eager eyes and couldn’t help saying, “Let’s eat half a bowl more. Being hungry isn’t good either.”
Penelope nodded in agreement.
“You’ve got enough nutrition, so you’re not allowed to eat again,” Warren refused cruelly.
Penelope covered her face with her hands, pretending to cry.
“Get up and walk two laps in front of the yard,” he said.
Penelope immediately put her hands down and said unwillingly, “I was still hungry. I couldn’t move!”
“If you were too lazy to go out, you could stand against the wall for twenty minutes. You could choose one.”
“You…”