The first available parking spot was down a residential street two blocks over. Penelope held Ella’s hand as they walked down the sidewalk. She let Ella swing their arms between them faster and faster until she tripped from the momentum. Penelope hauled her back up before she face-planted on the sidewalk.
“Whoa. I was almost Ella-roadkill,” Ella said.
“I know you’re excited about today, but let’s maybe take it down a notch. Okay? Unless you added breaking your leg to your list when I wasn’t looking.”
“Maybe I did.” A laugh bubbled out of her and lasted all the way up the street. It only fizzled out when she raced up the front steps of the old cottage that housed the cafe. She pulled up short, her sneakers squeaking on the wooden porch. “Mama, look!”
Just like at the Chocolate Cottage a few days before, dozens of notes covered the door to the cafe. Penelope didn’t have to read them to know they all gave Zan a reason to stay. Were they still up because they had worked?
“They’re love notes,” Ella said. She ran her finger over note after note, underscoring the word “love.”
“I see that.”
Penelope gripped the brass handle, careful not to tear the paper taped beneath it. She ushered Ella inside ahead of her. They were greeted with a rush of hot air and the intoxicating scent of bacon and the hint of something sweet. Behind the counter, Zan eyed the door. She was angled away, as if she was ready to bolt out the back. Her shoulders relaxed when Penelope closed the door behind her.
Every table was occupied. Only a handful of people greeted Penelope, though they all turned to give her a once-over. Apparently word had spread about her plans for the festival. And from the hard set of their mouths and the narrowed stares they leveled at her, their initial plan to convince her she was wrong had moved into phase two: ignore her to show her what she’s missing.
If that was how they wanted to act, then fine. Penelope wasn’t going to stoop to their level.
“Good morning,” she called to the room at large.
They all stuffed a bit of food in their mouths or sipped their steaming coffee as excuses not to respond. She rolled her eyes, though no one was watching her to see it.
“She said good morning,” Ella sang and waved to a half dozen people.
The room erupted in a chorus of hellos and good mornings and a few begrudging heys. No one could resist Ella’s charm.
Bending down, Penelope wrapped her arms around her daughter and squeezed her. Ella’s flyaway hairs ticked her cheek. “While we wait for a table, why don’t you go check out the cakes and pick out the one you want?”
“Can I get a hot chocolate too?” Ella’s crooked-tooth smile lit up her face.
“I think that would be a sugar overload for this early in the morning.”
“You only live once, Mama,” Ella said.
Where in the world had she picked up that phrase? Penelope simply shook her head.
“Okay. Milk?”
“That sounds like a better choice,” Penelope said.
Ella raced over to the counter and read each sign aloud. Zan whispered something to her that made her reach for her necklace again as she stretched onto her tiptoes to get a better look at the selection of cakes sitting on pedestals of varying heights. She paced to the end of the counter and back, as if picking the right flavor was the most important decision she would make all day.
Considering cake for breakfast was a serious bucket list item, maybe it was.
Penelope breathed through the panic that threatened to implode her chest. She’d known from the moment the doctor suggested the list that it would cause her equal amounts of happiness and heartache as Ella checked each one off. But the whole point was to make Ella happy. And falling apart over a piece of cake would ruin the whole thing. She forced herself to smile in hopes of tricking her brain into feeling happy for real.
Zan stopped next to her, coffee pot in hand, and kept her back to the bulk of her patrons. “I heard about the festival. And I just wanted to say that I agree with you. I figured a lot of people aren’t going to tell you that, so I wanted you to know.”
“Oh, thanks,” Penelope said. She glanced at Ella to make certain she was out of earshot. Today was about making her daughter happy. Telling her there might not be a festival this year—her last year—did not fit into that plan. “You and I are definitely in the minority on this one.”
“Did you know I stayed here because of the festival?”
“No.”
“Yeah. I came to town two days before the festival last year. Ruth Anne had come up to me at a rest stop when I was looking through the maps trying to figure out where the heck I was, and she just started talking about how nice and quiet and safe Malarkey was. Almost like she knew exactly what I was looking for even if I had no clue how to find it. And I decided why not. Some small, out-of-the-way town might be good for a few days. And then at the festival, with all the talk about fate and wishing for the future you wanted, I thought ‘What if they’re right? What if I could stay here and make the life I’ve always wanted?’ I mean, who wouldn’t want to stay in a quirky little town?”
There were plenty of people who didn’t. And Penelope was always happy to see them go. But when someone loved it in Malarkey and had to move away for reasons beyond their control—like Zan—that left a hollow feeling in her chest. “The town does have a way of charming people.”
“It does. I really hate that I have to leave,” Zan said.
“So the other chocolates my mom sent home with you didn’t help?” Penelope scooted out of the way as three women stood up from their chairs a few feet away and shuffled into their coats and hats.
Zan shook her head. “I don’t know.” She switched the coffee pot to her other hand and checked over her shoulder. She waited for the women to say their goodbyes and make their exit. Then she leaned closer to Penelope and said, “They made me realize that I couldn’t just jump in the car instantly and go. I put every penny I had into buying this place. I can’t leave until I sell it. Which is proving harder than I’d expected.”
“I saw the notes outside. They’re not going to make it easy on you. An outsider is your best bet. Everyone who’s already in Malarkey turned Eileen down when she offered it to them in hopes that she’d change her mind and stay if she couldn’t find any takers.”
“Damn.”
“I’m sorry. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but I figured you should know what you’re up against,” Penelope said.
“It’s okay. I kinda already knew that since no one’s even asked me about it since the For Sale sign went up two weeks ago.”
Penelope couldn’t help the next question. “Will you be okay if your ex finds you before you can sell it?”
Zan dropped her gaze to the floor. “I’m trying to convince myself I’m not scared of him anymore. I’m not sure it’s working yet, but I have hope. But if you have any chocolates that will help, I will buy every last one you’ve got.” When she looked back up, she gave Penelope a half smile.
“We have one that will give you a few hours of confidence, but that’s about it.”
“Oh well. Guess I’m on my own then.”
“I might not be able to help magically, but if you need anything, I’m here. Okay?”
“Thanks, Penelope.” Zan squeezed her arm then got back to work.
One of the servers came to clear the vacated table with Ella in tow. While the girl stacked dirty plates and cups, Ella held up her plate with a double-sized slice of caramel cake with both hands. Her grin was definitely worth the appalled looks a few of the customers gave Penelope when she gave her daughter a thumbs-up.
Good thing what they thought of Penelope’s parenting skills didn’t matter.
She shrugged out of her coat and slung it on the back of the chair. Goose bumps broke out on her skin at the sudden loss of warmth. And for a second she contemplated using the hot chocolate bonbons again to turn off her ability to get cold. Somehow that felt like
cheating. She rubbed her arms to chase away the chill. Another waitress set a second piece of caramel cake on the table for Penelope. “Interesting choice, kid. I expected you to go for the double chocolate,” Penelope said.
“Almost. I thought maybe the necklace would help me choose,” Ella said. She set the plate down and picked up her fork before she was all the way seated. “But it didn’t.”
“I don’t think it works on things that aren’t alive.”
“It should. Because I love cake. I would marry it if I could. But I’m too young.”
Ella handled her diagnosis with a maturity that should have been well beyond an eight-year-old. But sometimes—like right then—Ella acting her age caught Penelope completely off guard. The laugh bubbled out of her. “Yes, you’re too young. That’s why you can’t marry cake.”
Ella banged her fork on the side of the plate to get Penelope’s attention. “Mama! Don’t laugh at me.”
“I’m sorry. But that was really cute.”
“I’m always really cute.”
“That you are,” Penelope agreed. She forked up a bite of cake, the caramel icing dissolving on her tongue. She was constantly amazed that Ella could stay so positive despite knowing she didn’t have much time left.
* * *
“He’s not here,” Ella announced. She chewed on her lip, as if trying to keep the disappointment from leaking out.
Penelope looked around to see what she was missing. “Who’s not?”
“My kitten.”
“What do you mean?”
“The one that’s supposed to be mine isn’t here,” Ella said.
Since they were the only ones at the shelter, Brenda had let Ella take a dozen kittens into the empty ring they usually used for dogs. She’d sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor, toy mice scattered in a semicircle around her. The kittens had climbed all over her, licked her fingers with their sandpapery tongues, and purred against her cheeks. Ella had squealed in delight.
But after half an hour of play with every kitten up for adoption, she was saying she couldn’t pick one? Even Penelope had found one long-haired orange kitten she could picture snuggling on the bed with her at night.
Penelope set it down in the cuddle pile the others had formed. No sense getting attached if Ella didn’t want to take him home. The calico one with slightly crossed eyes zonked out in Ella’s lap wouldn’t have been Penelope’s pick, but it wasn’t her bucket list. “What about that one? He’s been attached to you since the second you sat down. He looks pretty in love with you if you ask me.”
“Nah. He’s just asleep.”
“Okay. But why don’t you think he’s the one?”
Ella lifted the chain so the compass dangled in front of her face. “It’s not doing anything. Not even a little wiggle.” She gave it a shake for good measure. The needle stayed frozen in place.
“That doesn’t mean anything, Ella.” Penelope reached over and cupped her hand around Ella’s, obscuring the necklace from view. “We don’t even know what makes the compass work.”
“Yes we do. It’s love.”
“I know that’s what the note said, but that doesn’t mean it’s true.”
“It’s magic, Mama. It only works if you believe in it. Like Tinker Bell.” Ella pulled away from Penelope. The kitten in her lap let out a surprised mew and Ella soothed it with a few quick strokes between the ears.
Penelope let her hand fall to the cool cement floor. “Okay, well, maybe if you believe one of these kittens is yours, the necklace will do what you want it to.”
“Even I know you can’t trick magic. Because if you could, I know you would’ve fixed me by now.”
No, you couldn’t. Magic was always going to get its way.
“So, no kitten?” Penelope asked.
Ella shook her head. “No kitten. But I can keep looking, right? Since I didn’t get to check it off my list.”
“Of course you can. We’ll keep looking as long as it takes to find the perfect one.”
Penelope just hoped it would happen before they ran out of time.
15
It had taken the better part of a week, but most of the ruckus about Penelope refusing to make the hot chocolate for the festival had died down. Whether people were planning another stunt to change her mind or if they’d finally realized she wouldn’t budge, she had no clue. When Megha swung by the shop half an hour before closing and insisted they go out for a drink, Penelope’s first thought was that being social was practically an invitation for people to start in on her again.
Her second was that Noah might think she’d wanted to see him. But she didn’t say it out loud. She couldn’t give her friend the satisfaction of knowing she thought about Noah in the first place.
And she couldn’t hide from the town forever.
When they met at the Rehab Bar an hour later, Penelope’s eyes went straight to the bar. But instead of Noah, Layne stood behind the taps, focused on the beer she was pulling as if it might overflow if she so much as blinked. Penelope slid onto one of the few empty stools and smiled at her.
She’d only been in Rehab a handful of times since Tucker opened it four years before. Dim light shone down from headlights of old cars that were suspended from metal pipes snaking across the ceiling. Instead of art, rusted gears in various shapes and sizes hung on the walls. The exposed brick walls were scarred and scorched in places from a fire half a century before when the building was a grain and feed store. The bottom of the bar, built from half a dozen different shades of reclaimed lumber, was just as beat up as the walls, with deep grooves and pockmarks marring the surface.
“Hey, Layne,” she said. “I didn’t expect to see you working the bar.”
“Oh, hey. What are you doing here?” Layne asked.
“Impromptu girls’ night.” Penelope motioned to Megha, who was too busy checking out the purple underlayer of Layne’s hair to do more than wave a hello. Penelope hadn’t noticed the dye when they’d met the week before, but with it pulled up into a ponytail to keep it out of Layne’s face while she worked, it was hard to miss.
Layne passed the beer to a waitress and sagged into the bar, her elbows holding up most of her weight. “Lucky you. Mine’s impromptu be-the-bartender night. So, what can I get you?”
“The biggest gin and tonic you can legally make me,” Megha said.
“And a Jack and ginger. Normal-sized, please,” Penelope said.
When Layne set down their drinks a minute later, Megha asked her, “Where’s Noah?” She poked Penelope in the ribs with her elbow.
Swatting her arm away, Penelope shot her friend a death-glare. Which only made Megha more gleeful.
Thankfully the whole exchange didn’t even register with Layne. “He got called back home to work for a few days. His boss needed him to take tonight’s shift along with a dozen other nights over the next few months. He’s going to be even more annoyed when he finds out that he missed you.”
Penelope rested her elbows on the bar and leaned forward. “Then don’t tell him.”
“I’m sorry. What am I missing?” Megha asked. She spun on her stool to face Penelope. “You’ve seen him, haven’t you?”
“We’ve run into each other a few times. Small talk, that’s it.”
“Right. So is this the part where you get all swoony and tell me how seriously hot Noah is and then I get to say ‘I told you so’?”
“No, this is the part where you sit there and drink your damn drink instead of being all gloaty and superior,” Penelope said.
“Lucky for me, I can drink and be gloaty at the same time. See?” Megha flashed her a toothy grin then tipped back her gin and tonic.
Penelope smiled right back. “That’s funny. Me too.” She raised her glass, angling it toward her friend in a salute. “So, any new details on this blind date your mom’s trying to set you up on? Has she given you his name yet or is she still refusing to tell you anything?”
Megha tapped her nails on the glass. “Dam
n woman knows that my curiosity will win out over stubbornness, so I still know nothing. Not even if he’s picking me up or if I’m meeting him somewhere. She said I’ll find out at the appropriate time, not a second sooner.”
“She’s serious about this one, huh?”
“I don’t know. Could be she’s just messing with me for fun. You know, get my hopes up and then say ‘There is no date, Megha. I just wanted to prove to you that you want to find a husband as badly as I want you to have one. Now go get one before we both die of old age.’”
Layne paused by the ice bin in front of them, two rocks glasses balanced in one hand. “Since when is twenty-seven old?” She shook her head, gave Megha an apologetic smile, and turned her attention back to scooping ice into the glasses. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to butt in. Tucker never listens to me when I tell him I’m not good behind the bar.”
“You’re fine. I’m a hairstylist, so butting in is a natural part of my day. And it’s old since my mom had already been married for six years and popped out two kids by my age. Granted, my grandparents arranged for my parents to marry so my mom doesn’t know how hard it is to find the right guy. But still, she thinks I should’ve figured it all out by now and isn’t afraid to let me know it.”
“Oh, silly me,” Penelope said. “I thought you enjoyed the detour-boys on the road to true love.”
“Ooh, detour-boys. I like that.”
“I thought you might.” Penelope held up her glass and clinked it to Megha’s.
Megha downed the rest of her drink like it was a shot and asked for another along with a glass of water. “Detours are fun. Dead-ends are starting to wear on me.”
“You know,” Layne said, a smile playing on her lips, “I’ve heard rumors about some hot chocolate that might help with that.”
“I’ve offered,” Penelope said.
Megha leaned an elbow onto the bar, shifting closer to Layne as if sharing a secret. “If the girl who makes it won’t drink it to find her soul mate, why would I?”
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