Dreaming in Chocolate

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Dreaming in Chocolate Page 4

by Susan Bishop Crispell


  “How’s Tucker doing?” Penelope asked after another few moments of strained silence. “I heard about his accident.”

  “He’s one lucky bastard. Broken rib, broken leg, concussion. Beat the hell out of his bike too, but he’s gonna be okay.”

  “That’s good. I’m sure it’s not fun right now, but it’s good that he’s got you to look after things for a while.”

  “No big deal. It’s just what you do for family.”

  He’d only been back to Malarkey a handful of days since he left for college. Penelope wondered if he really meant that or if he just thought that’s what she’d want to hear.

  “How’s your mom?” Noah asked. “Tucker said y’all opened some kind of crack-den-like chocolate shop that my niece is obsessed with.”

  “Crack den?” she asked. She clenched her jaw to keep from calling him an asshole on elementary school grounds.

  He shrugged, the leather on his well-worn jacket swishing with the movement. “Yeah, you know, because your chocolates are addictive or give you hallucinations or something. Maybe he just didn’t explain it well.”

  She shook her head and cut her eyes toward the school entrance. She crossed her arms over her chest and dug her nails into her biceps.

  “Let me try that again.” He stepped around her so they faced each other. “What I meant was that I heard your chocolates are amazing and that people can’t seem to get enough of them. Though I’m fairly certain that part about the hallucinations was true too.”

  If only he’d believed in the magic years ago.

  The school-ending bell inside was tinny and faint from the distance, but it was enough to catch her attention.

  While other kids raced down the sidewalk, rubber soles scraping on the concrete in their haste to get to their parents’ cars, Ella stared at her mismatched shoelaces: one pink, one orange. A small smile played on her lips. She’d spent twenty minutes the night before swapping them out so they’d coordinate with the rainbow-colored tulle skirt and pink-and-white polka-dot shirt she wore today. Her palms traced the edge of the skirt from front to back on each side as she walked.

  “It didn’t get flat, Mama! Do you see? It’s stayed poufy!” She twirled in a circle still primping the skirt. Her tongue poked through the hole left by a missing tooth in her bottom row when she grinned.

  “I do see. And I’m betting it’s a good thing you wore leggings underneath too so you could pull it up every time you sat down and not squish it.”

  “How did you know that’s what I did?”

  “I know you, sweetie.”

  “Holy shit. You have a kid,” Noah said, his voice lazy but amused. “Tucker didn’t tell me that.”

  Penelope cupped her hands over Ella’s ears and held the girl in place. His gaze dropped to her lips and then down to her hands before whipping back up to meet her glare.

  “Holy shit, could you not talk like that around my kid?” she mocked. “And, hello? We’re waiting outside a school. Did you think I was just here for fun?”

  “Mama! Be nice to him,” Ella gasped, dragging Penelope’s hands from her head. She narrowed her deep brown eyes at Noah, studying him with pouted lips. “Who are you?”

  Noah pointed a long finger at his chest and raised an eyebrow at her. “Me? I’m a friend of your mom’s.”

  “Friend?” Penelope asked.

  Noah winked at Ella. Before he could respond to Penelope, a girl ran down the sidewalk and launched herself at him. He caught her under her outstretched arms and hugged her. She wrapped her skinny legs around his waist and planted a noisy kiss on his cheek.

  “Hey, Fish. How was school?” he asked.

  The girl giggled and leaned back, her curly blond hair dancing in the air as she tipped upside down with Noah’s hands clamped around her wrists. “Uncle Noah. It. Was. So. Long,” she said.

  His face softened when he grinned at her. Years of late nights working a bar and later nights spent drunk drained away, revealing the charming, quick-to-laugh boy she’d caught glimpses of in high school when no one had been around but Penelope. Her lips curved into a smile without her permission.

  She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, smudging the smooth red lipstick against her skin.

  “I’ll switch with you. You can go to work for me and I’ll go to school for you. Deal?” Noah said.

  “Can I go to work for her?” She turned her blue eyes to Penelope. Her smile was lopsided when she spread her lips wide. “She has the best job. In. The. World. Doesn’t she, Ella?”

  Ella’s head jerked up when the girl said her name. Her mouth popped open in wonder as she nodded. Penelope’s chest ached at how removed Ella was from other kids. Like she was always surprised when they acknowledged her. Her tumor had kept her out of school and ballet class and every other normal kid activity for so long she barely knew anyone her own age. Penelope smoothed Ella’s hair down, tickling her behind her ears to jolt her out of her shyness.

  “The best,” Ella said, her voice just above a whisper.

  “I told you River was obsessed,” Noah said. He swung River out and dropped her to her feet. He ruffled her hair, his deep rumbling laugh mixing with his niece’s lighter one.

  The sound twisted knots in Penelope’s stomach. His laugh haunted her dreams, offering a life she was all too willing to succumb to in her sleep. She didn’t want to think about what it meant that she had remembered it so precisely. She darted her eyes away when he caught her watching him and smiled at her.

  Tipping her head back, Ella narrowed her eyes at him. She held her breath as she studied him. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she took it as an invitation to ask, “Why do you call her Fish?” Her voice was loud, sure.

  Noah, face as serious as Ella’s, looked her in the eyes. “Because when she was born I told her dad that River was a noun, not a name. That it was like naming her Fish. And she’s been Fish ever since.”

  “Oh,” Ella said.

  “I like being Fish,” River said to Ella. She turned to her uncle and tugged on his hand. “We could go with them to their shop and then I could be Chocolate Fish.”

  Penelope smiled at her despite the panic building in her chest at the prospect of spending more time with Noah. She needed time to regroup her thoughts. She wasn’t ready to believe Noah was no longer the same jerk who’d showed up on her doorstep in the middle of the night—wasted—just to tell her the future she’d dreamed about them was a joke. That there was nothing in Malarkey worth sticking around for. She felt his eyes on her, like he knew he made her uncomfortable, like he’d always known she had to talk herself out of liking him. She stuck her hands in her vest pockets without meeting his gaze.

  Just because he was adorable with his niece didn’t mean he had changed. And it certainly didn’t mean he deserved her and Ella.

  “Not today, okay?” he said.

  Penelope let out her breath. It clouded in front of her, a thin mist of white in the cold air. Noah chuckled beside her. She shook her head and turned her attention to Ella, who had yet to look away from Noah, as if the Earth’s gravitational pull had shifted and now everything revolved around him instead of the sun.

  The thought of Ella being sucked under his spell scared Penelope almost as much as the thought of losing her daughter altogether. Penelope might not have control over Ella’s fate, but steering her clear of Noah was definitely something she could do.

  5

  Noah tried to ignore the fact that he’d had an actual conversation with Penelope Dalton that afternoon. But after he and River collapsed into a heap on the living-room floor from their impromptu dance party, he couldn’t take it anymore.

  Turning down the volume on the stereo, he said, “Hey, Fish. You know the girl we talked to after school? The one whose mom makes chocolate?”

  “Yeah. Everybody knows Ella.”

  “Are you friends with her?” He rolled onto his back so his expression didn’t give away how interested he was in her answer.

  “
Not really,” River said. She twisted on the floor until she was perpendicular to him then plopped her head down on his stomach. “She doesn’t come to school much and last year she lost all of her hair and she didn’t even wear a hat to try and hide it. She just went around town bald like it was no big deal. But my mom said it was a big deal because it meant Ella was pretty sick. But everybody wished she’d get better at the Festival of Fate last year and now her hair’s growing back and everything.”

  Poor kid had definitely gotten the crap end of the stick. Penelope too, for that matter. He wouldn’t wish that kind of misery on his worst enemy. But at least Ella seemed to be on the mend.

  “Hey, do you think her mom used some of her magic chocolates to make her better?” River asked.

  “I’m pretty sure if she had chocolates that could cure whatever Ella had, everyone would know about it by now. That’s not something you keep to yourself,” he said.

  River tilted her head back to look at him. “If anyone could do that, I bet Ella’s mom could.” Her voice held the kind of reverence normally reserved for rock stars or the Pope.

  He wasn’t surprised by that kind of adoration. The Penelope he’d known growing up was surrounded by this overwhelming sense of belonging. Everything about her—her genuine smile, her willingness to offer help before anyone even asked, the way she could be the quietest person in the room yet be the only one with anything real to say—had lured people in. She treated everyone like a friend, whether she knew them well or not. Though based on the cold shoulder she’d given him earlier that day, he didn’t even rate that now. Not that he could blame her after the way he’d ended things between them. But admitting her hot chocolate was right about them having a future together meant giving up his ability to choose how his life would turn out. And true love or not, at eighteen it wasn’t even close to a fair deal. “What about Ella’s dad?”

  “She doesn’t have one.”

  Well, that was an interesting turn of events. After all this time, Penelope Dalton was still single. And there was someone else on the planet just as stupid as Noah had been. “Since when?”

  Tucker clomped into the room, still incompetent at walking with his crutches. “Are you seriously pumping my kid for info on Penelope Dalton?” He jabbed Noah’s ribs with the end of one crutch.

  “Just making conversation,” Noah said.

  “All you need to know is that it’s a bad idea, bro.”

  Tucker didn’t even know the half of it.

  Noah grabbed the crutch before it connected with his side again and grinned at his brother. “So’s hitting me with this,” he said, yanking the crutch out of Tucker’s grasp. He let his brother flail for a few seconds as Tucker tried to regain his balance. Point made, Noah pushed up from the floor, propped his shoulder under his brother’s arm, and lowered him down onto the sofa.

  River continued her dance party solo.

  Tucker hefted his cast onto the coffee table and dropped his head back on the cushions. “I know you carried a big effing torch for her before you moved away, but Penelope’s been through a lot with her kid being sick and she doesn’t need you trying to restart something that never had a chance to begin with just because you’re in town for a while.”

  “That’s not what I’m doing.”

  “No?” Tucker asked.

  “No,” Noah said.

  Even if he’d wanted to pick things up with Penelope where they’d left off, he’d have a hell of a time convincing her to forgive him for leaving her—and the future she’d seen—behind.

  * * *

  The cold seeped through the cotton covers, making Penelope shiver. The temperature alone wouldn’t have woken her, but the gentle pressure of a small, clammy hand on her shoulder jolted her eyes open before her mind was clear of the haze of sleep.

  “Ella, are you okay? Are you feeling sick?” Her hands groped for the warm face in front of her, fingers gliding over soft, tangled hair and down to the flannel penguin-print nightgown.

  “No. I’m okay. But it’s snowing,” Ella whispered. She slid her hand into Penelope’s and tugged. “You’re cold.”

  “Sorry,” she said and rubbed her free hand over their joined ones. “Better?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. Now you might want to get under the covers before the rest of you gets cold.”

  “Don’t you want to see the snow?”

  “I thought you were making that up so you could come sleep in bed with me.” Penelope climbed across the mattress and followed Ella to the window. “We’re only going to watch for ten minutes, okay? Then you need to get back in bed and go to sleep. Unless you’ve changed your mind about not missing any school.”

  “I haven’t. Only ten minutes,” Ella agreed.

  Penelope had had the bench built a month after moving in, though she rarely used it as a reading nook like she had planned. It had become a late-night snuggle spot for her and Ella. Full moons, bad dreams, thunderstorms, snow—they both latched on to any excuse Ella could come up with to leave her boring backyard view, as she called it, and watch the night crawl by nestled together on the plush cushion.

  Just one more thing to add to the list of what Penelope would miss most when Ella was gone.

  She sat and tucked her legs under her. Ella stood over the floor vent so her nightgown filled up like a hot air balloon. Strands of her light-brown hair floated around her ears where the air shot out of her collar.

  “Don’t burn your feet.”

  Ella grinned at her and jumped from one foot to the other and back again.

  Penelope rested her head on the window, and her breath fogged an oval on the glass. The flakes were translucent, only noticeable in the sphere of light from the streetlamp in front of the neighbor’s house. It wasn’t coming down heavily, just enough to leave a thin layer on the grass. She kept her arms wrapped around her middle to fend off the shivers that crept along her skin and leaned closer to the heating vent pumping straight into Ella’s pajamas.

  “Want me to warm you up?” Ella asked, pulling Penelope back from her thoughts. She wiggled her eyebrows up and down.

  “I’d love it.” Penelope caught her as she threw herself onto the bench and snuggled into Penelope’s side. She wrapped her arms over Ella’s and hugged.

  “Do you think we’ll see Noah again tomorrow after school?”

  “What made you think of him?”

  “You’ll need someone to keep you warm when I’m not here anymore.”

  Penelope’s eyes went instantly wet. She looked at the ceiling to keep the tears from welling up and spilling down her cheeks. She’d cried so much over the past year she half expected her tear ducts to give out at some point. It hadn’t happened yet. She held her breath until she was sure her voice wouldn’t shake when she responded. “You don’t need to worry about me, sweetie. I’ve got a closet full of blankets. They’ll keep me nice and toasty.”

  And she’d take mild hypothermia over Noah any day. At least she knew what she was in for with the cold.

  “But blankets can’t hug you when you’re sad. I don’t want to leave you all alone.” Ella squeezed her arms tight around Penelope’s waist. “So, will we see him?”

  “I’m not sure.” Definitely not if she could help it.

  “I hope we do. I like him.”

  Could Ella somehow tell that he was a part of her? Not just in the way she laughed or charmed everyone she met with just one smile, but that she wouldn’t exist without him even when neither of them knew the other existed? Penelope’s heart beat out a panicked rhythm against Ella’s cheek, but her daughter remained oblivious. “What in the world did you find to like about him in the five minutes you talked to him?”

  “I don’t know. I just like him.” Ella turned her gaze up to meet Penelope’s. Her thick dark lashes fluttered as her eyes grew wide. “Did you see him catch River and flip her upside down? I want someone to do that to me. Do you think it would be something good for my list?”

  “I do
n’t think you should put Noah on your list, sweetie. We’re not really going to see him much, okay?”

  Ella’s lip jutted out in a pout. “Why not? He said you were friends.”

  “Yes, he did say that,” Penelope said.

  “We’re friends with Megha, and she comes over for dinner every week.”

  It was clear she wouldn’t be able to talk Ella out of liking Noah. Those feelings, for whatever strange reason, had taken hold of Ella instantly and completely. So she’d have to settle for logic and pray it worked. “That’s different. Megha is practically family. I haven’t seen Noah in years. So long ago, in fact, that you weren’t even born yet. I don’t expect that to change just because he’s in town for a little while.”

  “Maybe he would come over if he knew we wanted to see him,” Ella said. She scooted away from Penelope, pulled her legs up onto the cushion, and tucked her nightgown over her knees.

  Penelope didn’t miss her daughter’s use of the plural. “Well, ‘we’ don’t want to see him. That’s all you. But you don’t need to worry that River won’t be your friend if her uncle and I aren’t really friends.”

  “I’m not. I think I can make her like me. But he’s special, Mama. Didn’t you feel it? I want us to be friends with him.”

  “He’s something all right,” Penelope said under her breath.

  It wasn’t quiet enough.

  “But he’s ours. He’s supposed to be with us, I know it,” Ella said, not even a hint of doubt tainting the words. The stubborn set of her mouth and the twitch in her left eye matched the defiant expression Penelope had seen in the mirror too many times to count.

  She took a deep breath to keep her next words calm and soothing. “No, Ella, he’s not. He’s just here to help River’s dad while he’s sick and then he’s leaving. End of story. So please just forget about it, okay?”

  “What if he wants to spend time with us while he’s here?”

  “He won’t,” Penelope said. She was mostly certain of that.

  “But if he does, I can ask him about the upside-down thing, right? And then I can put it on the list and check it off all at the same time.”

 

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