She sat up in bed and sucked in a breath, her gaze drifting to the open window. A cricket chirped on the other side and something plunked in the water. Penelope was sure she’d heard someone sneeze, but Tama was in her same position on her side, unmoving under her comforter.
Penelope left the bedroom after taking a look at the clock that glowed blue numbers on the bedside table. She padded to the kitchen in the dark, and jotted down the letters she saw in her dream, then took a seat in the club chair again, staring out the French doors into the black night and listening to the ripple of the lake beneath them. Once again, Tama slept through it all, unmoving, still as the night.
“Did you remember to bring the apples from the main pantry?” Penelope asked Lewis. They slowed down to match the pace of Jeremiah’s truck. He’d just signaled to take a right, and Penelope followed him up a graveled path. She’d left Tama and Francis behind to start on the lunch prep for when they returned from the morning’s screen test and location scout. More of the actors and crew were due to arrive, and they’d been asked to have something ready. Jeremiah had left instructions for her team on the main house’s kitchen counter that morning.
“Yes,” Lewis said. “And the peanut butter, energy bars, drinks, craft service stuff.”
“Good,” Penelope said. “Jeremiah said it’s not going to be too long out here this morning. Hopefully we won’t run out of food before they finish.”
“I know,” Lewis said. “It’s not like we can get to the store and back quickly if we do. Not from all the way up here.”
Penelope grimaced and peered out the windshield. “Look at this place.”
They pulled around and parked next to a series of pavilions with stadium seats enclosed around two brand new tennis courts and a series of outbuildings. A newly paved parking area edged the impressive park.
“I never would have thought this was all the way up here,” Penelope said.
A half dozen crew members were already on site, sweeping leaves from the courts, setting up cameras, and laying down cables in between them and the mobile production trucks.
Penelope hopped out of her Jeep and went to Arlena, who stood with the toes of her tennis shoes on the edge of the nearest tennis court, a worried expression on her face.
“What’s up?” Penelope asked.
“Nothing,” Arlena said unconvincingly.
“Come on,” Penelope said. “I can tell when something’s wrong.”
Arlena sighed and looked around them to see if anyone was close enough to hear. “It’s just...this is the first screen test, where they see what I can do physically. I’ve never played tennis on camera. Or any sport for that matter. What if I look like I don’t know what I’m doing?”
“But you’ve played tennis before,” Penelope said. “What’s the difference?”
“Things look different on film,” Arlena said. “After hanging out with Nadia, watching her play...I don’t know. I think there’s a lot more to it. She moves so fluidly. What if I look like a lumbering dodo bird out there?”
“What?” Penelope asked. She took Arlena’s hand and squeezed. “That’s not possible. You can be just as graceful. You’re going to do great.”
Arlena nodded, but the uncertain expression remained on her face. One of the cameramen gave Jeremiah the thumbs up and Penelope stepped away. “You got this,” she said to Arlena quietly over her shoulder.
Penelope helped Lewis set up a folding table with iced down bottles of water, some trays of energy bars, and a few other healthy snacks. She kept her eye on Arlena, watching Jeremiah confer with her and Nadia on the sidelines. Arlena’s shoulders were tight, but her face was more determined with each minute that passed.
Nadia and Arlena took their positions on the court. Arlena mimicked Nadia’s wide stance, her muscular legs taut as she bounced on the balls of her feet and spun her tennis racket confidently in her hand, awaiting Arlena’s serve.
Arlena hoisted the ball in the air over her head and swung at it as it descended, missing it completely. She laughed nervously, and hurried after it as it rolled away from her on the court. Arlena set up again to serve, this time launching the ball squarely into the bottom of the net.
“Fault!” Nadia yelled.
“I know,” Arlena groaned. She retrieved the ball again and tried once more to get it over the net. This time it did, but clipped it on the way over.
“Okay,” Jeremiah said, approaching Arlena at the net. Her shoulders sagged further the closer he got. “Try and think about it this way. You’re not here on the court. You’re serving the ball in your mind only. Visualize being the tennis player you want to be. Think about Helen, what she would have done, and make her moves your own.”
Arlena swiped the back of her hand across her cheek and nodded. Jeremiah stepped off the court and stood at the edge as Arlena readied herself for the next serve.
The ball sailed clean over the net and bounced in the center of the opposing box on Nadia’s side.
“Got it!” Arlena said.
“That’s how it’s done,” Jeremiah said. “Keep practicing, you two. We’ll be taking some test shots, so play as many rounds as you like.” Jeremiah touched the back of the cameraman as he passed, the sounds of a tennis ball being thwacked back and forth filling the air. Nadia grunted as she volleyed, but Arlena stayed silent, rigidly concentrating on each return.
“Thanks for this,” Jeremiah said as he walked to the craft table where Penelope and Lewis stood. “But I thought I was clear about this being a green set. No more plastic at all. I’ll let it go today but if I see it again, we’re going to find a new catering crew.”
Penelope swallowed, her heart skipping. “Got it,” she said.
“And I’d like to see you make granola at the house, not buy the pre-packaged bars,” Jeremiah added.
Penelope looked down at water bottles poking through the shaved ice. “Okay,” she said, confused. “How would you prefer we do the water?”
“Bring big jugs of lemon, cucumber, and melon water. And we’ll re-use glasses that we can wash when we get back to base at the end of the day.” He picked up a bottle of diet soda and squinted at the label. “No more of this stuff, either.” He shook his head in bewilderment. “What is this even made of? Nothing from nature, that’s for sure.”
Penelope thought about the kitchens back at the Truegood house. There were two dishwashers, and while nice, they were just the average household kind, not the commercial ones in restaurants that could handle large amounts of dishes daily. “We’ll have a lot of cleanup.”
Jeremiah smiled. “We have a lot of hands, which will make light work. We’ll all help clean up after ourselves. Small price to pay to save our planet, don’t you think?”
Penelope thought about everyone from the film set coming in and out of the kitchen, washing their own cups and dishes. “We’ll figure out a system,” she said, her mind reeling.
“Of course you will,” Jeremiah said as he walked back to the tennis court.
Chapter 22
Penelope asked Lewis to get a ride back to the lake house with the rest of the crew so she could make a trip into Micklesburg and visit Nate’s store again. She slowed as she approached the abandoned gas station and pulled in, grabbing for her phone in the glove compartment after she parked in the same spot she had the day before.
Joey picked up on the third ring with a quick “Hello.”
“So glad to hear your voice,” Penelope said.
“You too, Penny,” Joey said with a sigh.
“What’s wrong?” Penelope asked. “You don’t sound like yourself.”
Joey hesitated a moment before speaking again. “There’s been another incident in downtown Glendale.”
Penelope gripped the steering wheel tighter. “What’s happened?”
“The coffee shop got robbed last night,” Joey said. “
After closing. There isn’t usually anyone there that time of night, but one of the baristas had stayed behind to do their monthly inventory.”
“Oh no,” Penelope said, closing her eyes. “Are they okay?”
“I don’t know,” Joey said. “A kid got knocked in the head. He was able to give the responding officers a vague description of the guy who beat him up. Tall, Hispanic, no facial hair. Didn’t recognize him as a regular customer.”
Penelope pulled the piece of paper from her pocket. “I remembered something last night.”
“What’s that?” Joey asked.
“I had some kind of flashback, or a moment of clarity and I saw the letters on the guy’s jacket. I woke up and wrote them down.”
She smoothed the paper across her thigh and read. “CCCP. I thought it was police initials. I’m pretty sure they were red and white, not blue like the uniforms I’ve seen.”
“I don’t know what that is,” Joey admitted. “You had a vision?”
“Kind of,” Penelope said. “I’m not really sleeping well here, Joey. I’m having more like waking dreams at night, you know? Because I’m not fully asleep.”
Joey stayed quiet for a moment on the other end.
“Hello?” Penelope asked, pulling the phone from her ear to be sure they were still connected.
“I’m here,” Joey said. “Hang on.”
Penelope heard him set the phone down and then heard him typing on a keyboard. A woman’s voice, who she eventually recognized as Clarissa, was talking also, on what sounded like a phone call near Joey’s desk.
“It’s nothing of ours,” Joey said. “Like I thought.”
“Shoot,” Penelope said. “Hey, try searching the letters and hockey. The boys obviously played, or are fans. Maybe it’s a team thing?”
She heard more typing and Joey’s exhales on the phone. “That’s it,” he said after a minute. “It might be a hockey team logo.”
“What do Russian hockey players have to do with Sonya?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to follow up on this, Penny Blue. Thanks,” Joey said. “Real quick, how is everything else?”
Penelope thought about telling him about her episode at Nate’s the day before, but decided she wouldn’t worry him with it right then. After they said their goodbyes, Penelope scrolled through her emails quickly, started the Jeep, and pulled out of the parking lot.
Chapter 23
Penelope drove down a rutted road that was too narrow for her to turn around, which she considered doing, thinking she’d missed the entrance to the Hefheiser farm. She’d stopped by Nate’s market in Micklesburg, and had been told by Cheri in the fewest words possible that her uncle was at the family farm, which wasn’t that far away.
Penelope remembered he’d said to call first, but she didn’t mind the drive. She enjoyed the lush scenery and the warm air flowing through the windows, brushing her arms lightly as she listened to music on the radio. She hummed along to a song and watched the fence posts roll by.
She spotted the entrance a few minutes later and pulled in, parking behind a delivery van in front of the barn, the now familiar black and green logo on the side.
“Come on in,” Nate said, waving her over to the large red barn. It looked like the ones she’d seen on Christmas cards, minus the snow on top. A row of cows were eating hay, their heads stuck through a metal contraption facing a long trough. Penelope breathed in the sweet smell of the hay and the slightly sour smell of farm animals, which wasn’t unpleasant.
“Sorry to bother you at the farm,” Penelope said. “But I was hoping we could work out a delivery for tomorrow. The rest of the crew is on the way to the set and we’re going to be busy cooking every day after that.”
“I’m happy to have visitors up here,” Nate said. “Hey, let me show you something.” He led her past the row of cows to a series of stable doors in the back. “Look at him.”
Penelope peeked over the door into the stall, where a baby calf lay in the hay, its legs bent at the knees under it.
“Wow,” Penelope said. “How old?”
“About an hour,” Nate said with a chuckle. “My main farmhand isn’t feeling well today, so I came down to help this little guy into the world. He’s a beauty.”
“He sure is,” Penelope said. The calf’s black hair was shiny and his eyes bright. He let out a bleat that made Penelope laugh.
Nate grabbed a nearby towel from a hook on the wall and wiped his hands. “Let’s go out front. I have an office up there, we can work everything out.”
Nate led Penelope back out to the front of the barn and into a small adjoining office. After they were settled, they discussed what Penelope and the crew would need at the house and Jeremiah’s particularities when it came to staying green and causing minimal waste.
“Old Jeremiah, he’s like that,” Nate said.
“You know each other?” Penelope asked.
“Oh yeah, second cousins,” Nate said nodding. He propped an ankle across his knee behind the metal desk and leaned back in his office chair.
“Interesting,” Penelope said. “Why didn’t he work this out with you then? Or tell me about you directly? He just left me to figure things out on my own.”
Nate splayed his fingers and shrugged. “Well, that does sound like him, to be honest. Also, I assume he’s busy, with the film and all. Jeremiah doesn’t always do the logical thing, which I suppose is part of his artistic charm.” Nate crooked his fingers in air quotes around the last word.
Penelope shook her head slightly and said. “Okay, then. So let’s you and me work out the logistics, and let him create art.”
“Sounds perfect,” Nate said.
By the time Penelope climbed back in her Jeep and headed toward the lake, she and Nate had come up with a plan for him to deliver whatever they needed food-wise twice a week, or more often if they found it necessary.
“I’ll be sure production pays for your gas and whatever delivery charges you want to add to the invoice,” Penelope said before she left. “This is a big help that I’m willing to pay for.”
Nate waved her off. “I’ll charge the regular rate. I learned a long time ago not to mix family and business. It doesn’t always pay. And you should keep the details of our arrangement to yourself. That actually might be best.”
Penelope looked at him quizzically but agreed. She had learned a lot about family drama in the past couple of years and was finding almost every family had their own history, which was usually best left alone.
Chapter 24
Penelope let herself in the kitchen’s back door at the main house. She planned to find out what they already had on hand, then add to it with Nate’s first delivery. Nate had connections with many of the local farms who sold through his store, and he could provide the rest through Hefheiser.
A woman with gray hair sat at the kitchen table, drinking a cup of tea and nibbling on a strawberry from a plate of fruit in front of her.
“Oh, excuse me,” Penelope said. “I didn’t know anyone was in here.” She placed her knapsack down on the counter and pulled it open, pawing through the contents looking for a pen.
“Come on in,” the woman said. “Do you know what you’re making for dinner yet? I’m starving.”
Penelope froze and swiveled her neck to look at the woman, whose voice was very familiar.
“Arlena?” Penelope squinted at her and took a few steps closer to the table.
“Ta-da, it’s me,” Arlena said. She did a small jazz hands motion around her face, which had been layered with latex and makeup that made her appear elderly.
“That’s amazing,” Penelope said, reaching out a hand then pulling it back.
“It’s so great we could fool you,” Arlena said. “What do you think?” She turned her head from side to side, showing Penelope different angles of her face.
“Well, I recognize those jeans, so if I had a better look I might have figured it out,” Penelope said. “But not from that quick of a glance. That’s impressive.”
“I’m working with the makeup team today. They’re testing out some different ages, getting photos of me to show the Truegoods.”
“Cool,” Penelope said. “I’ve spent two days figuring out that our main food distributor is their own cousin.”
Penelope pulled open the refrigerator and saw a variety of vegetables and what looked like a row of half a dozen chickens wrapped in parchment paper.
“I wanted to tell you,” Arlena said after taking another sip of tea. “I had my agent contact my money guy. They sent a check to Mirabelle, a gift from us to cover whatever they might need. Restaurant expenses, wages, you know.”
“Funeral,” Penelope said quietly.
Arlena’s eyes darkened in her wrinkled face. “Yes, anyway. I hope it helps the family.”
“Wait, you said us,” Penelope said.
“You and me,” Arlena said. “It’s our place, so it should come from both of us.”
“I’ll pay you back,” Penelope said.
Arlena waved her off. “You do so much for me every day. Please don’t even think about it.”
Penelope put her hand on Arlena’s shoulder and squeezed. “You’re a nice old lady.”
Arlena chuckled.
Penelope turned back to the refrigerator. “We’re grilling out tonight.” She stepped back over to the sink to look at the large charcoal grill on the lawn between the main house and the dock.
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