Dreaming in Chocolate

by Susan Bishop Crispell

  “Sorry, kid. No stray cats out here,” Noah said before Penelope could wrap her brain around a response.

  Ella’s head snapped up, her smile even wider than a moment before. “Noah!” She raced to the door and threw it open to greet him properly.

  “Ella!” he said back with the same amount of enthusiasm.

  Penelope followed her daughter, praying that Ella didn’t connect the necklace to Noah. It would’ve been a leap, but Ella was her grandmother’s granddaughter and things like coincidence didn’t exist in their worlds.

  “Is he spending the night?” Ella asked.

  Where did she get that idea from?

  Penelope crossed her arms over Ella’s chest and hauled her back so Ella was snug against her body. Looking down at her daughter, she asked, “When has a man ever spent the night in our house?”

  “Never,” Ella said, a hint of sadness in her voice. “I thought maybe Noah would be different.”

  Noah stretched out his hand for a high five. Ella obliged. “Somebody’s got to be first.”

  “Sorry to burst your bubble, kid. He’s going back to work and you’re going back to bed.” Penelope shot Noah a challenging look. He stuck his hands in his pockets and kept his mouth shut.

  “But I’m not tired,” Ella said.

  “You will be in the morning. Do you want to miss another day of school because you’re too sleepy to get out of bed?” Penelope asked.

  “No.”

  “Okay, then. Let’s go.” She released Ella and turned her toward the stairs. To Noah she said, “Thanks again for the heads-up. I’ll let you know if I need those names.”

  He studied her for a moment, his eyes lingering on her lips as if he was thinking about what might have happened if she had invited him in for the night. “See you later, Penelope. Bye, Ella.” He raised his voice for the last part and grinned when she turned around and told him to sleep well.

  Penelope shut the door and turned the lock.

  As if something that simple could keep him out of her life.

  19

  Penelope had resisted hustling Ella into the car the night before to go check on the shop. There was no reason to upset Ella with the news and risk the stress of it causing her headache to come back. And Penelope couldn’t have fixed the door at midnight anyway. But she’d woken up every hour from vivid dreams of the table emitting thick black smoke that swallowed up her customers and her chocolates erasing people’s futures so their bodies froze in place—mid-step, mid-sentence, mid-life.

  Logically she knew the dreams were nothing more than her subconscious feeding off her anxiety, but she dropped Ella off at school a good twenty minutes earlier than normal and headed straight into work just to be sure everything was okay. When she got there, Noah was crouched on the sidewalk in front of her shop door. His leather jacket was tossed to the side, the sleeves of his Henley shirt shoved up to his elbows while he screwed in a new door handle.

  “You fixed my door,” Penelope said, not entirely sure she was happy about it. The handle was too shiny, too unused, compared to the battered old door. Its newness was impossible to miss. She gave it less than an hour before the first person asked her what happened.

  “Oh, hey.” He rocked back on his heels and braced a hand on the wall to keep himself steady when he looked up at her. He flashed his get-anything-he-wants smile. “I got Clover to open up the hardware store a little early. Didn’t want you to have to worry about this on top of everything else.”

  It was hard to believe him when he said it with that smile. And when she didn’t have a clue what he wanted in return. She jingled her keys in the palm of her hand. “You didn’t have to do this.”

  “I know.”

  “Then why did you?”

  Noah shrugged. “To be nice?”

  His mouth started tugging into a smile again. She looked away. Whatever he was trying to do, it wouldn’t work. She wouldn’t let it. But he was definitely making it difficult.

  Penelope crossed her arms over her chest and pushed for an answer. “Yeah, but why are you being nice to me?”

  “No ulterior motives. It was something I could easily do and I figured it would save you some hassle,” he said.

  “I’ll pay you back for the parts,” she said.

  “Receipt’s already on the counter inside.”

  “Good.” Okay, so maybe this was just a nice gesture to help her out. She wouldn’t have thought twice if anyone else in town had stopped by to help her. She should be happy he was there, accept his help, and be grateful she wasn’t out there in her skirt trying to install a new door handle. “Thanks, Noah.”

  He dropped one knee to the ground and splayed a wide hand on the door, pushing it open so she could go inside. “I’m almost finished. I’ll come in and see you before I go.”

  Penelope skirted around him, careful not to let her bare calf skim his arm as she passed. She could talk her mind into lumping Noah in with everyone else, but her body refused to comply. Just one touch, no matter how innocent, sparked memories of the summer when they couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. If she wasn’t careful, those long-buried feelings could catch fire and burn her up from the inside out.

  Once inside the shop, she didn’t even stop to set down her purse. She went directly to the table and opened the first drawer her fingers touched. It slid open without any resistance. Tin canisters of ground hot peppers rattled against each other. The next one she opened revealed still-wrapped bars of 70 percent dark chocolate and a cluster of cinnamon sticks tied together with twine.

  Noah had said the table was empty when the would-be thieves went through it. But there everything was. Just like always.

  “Thank you,” she whispered to the table. She rubbed her hand along the top as if to tell it that it had done a good job. She didn’t want to think about what might have happened if those boys had gotten a recipe out of it.

  Penelope backtracked through the kitchen, doing a cursory check of the rest of the shop to make sure nothing else had been disturbed. As far as she could tell, they’d gotten away with nothing. Even the display case was still fully stocked. Which meant the boys hadn’t just been after magic. They’d gone straight for the source. She turned to watch Noah as he collected his jacket and tools, grateful that he’d been there to stop them.

  When he came inside, he said, “It came with one key.” He held it out to her, pinching the skinny end between forefinger and thumb. “I can run it over and have Clover make a copy for your mom if you need me to. I don’t have to be at work until noon.”

  “I think I can manage that. But thanks. Really.” She slipped it from his grip. Her fingers skimmed over the tips of his of their own volition. Snatching her hand back, she worked the key onto her key ring so she didn’t misplace it. And so she didn’t have to look at Noah and see the smile she was sure had crept onto his face at the sudden contact. “How did things go with the parents last night?”

  He drummed his knuckles on the counter. “Honestly, they were more relieved that I hadn’t caught their kids drinking underage.”

  “Sure. Why be worried about a potential felony as long as the boys aren’t getting drunk too?” It wouldn’t have been surprising if most of the town thought the same way. They were upset enough about the festival to think they should have as much claim on the magic as she did.

  “Whoa. Didn’t mean to hit a nerve.”

  She looped the key ring onto her index finger and bounced the keys a few times before dropping them on the counter. “Do you ever mean to or are you just exceptionally good at it with me?”

  “A little bit of both, actually.” Noah grinned at her, and her anger receded enough for her to laugh. “But seriously, if you want to make sure they all understand it’s a bigger deal than they’re making it out to be, I can—” He broke off as someone entered the shop. Staring over her shoulder, he added, “Never mind.”

  Penelope turned, expecting to find her mom since the Chocolate Cottage didn’t o
pen for another hour, and instead found herself being rushed by the Avery sisters. Nina and Heather. They weren’t twins, but some days they looked so much alike it was hard to tell them apart. Today was one of those days. With their near-identical blue eyes puffy and shot through with streaks of red and matching looks of desperation that pulled their makeup-free faces taut, they even moved in unison. They pushed in close to Penelope, edging Noah out of the way. Nina’s hand clutched at Penelope’s left arm to hold her in place while Heather followed suit on the right. Their fingers dug in hard enough to bruise.

  “What are you doing?” Penelope managed to free one arm, which she held in front of her palm out to keep them from crowding in again.

  “We need to talk to you,” Nina said.

  Heather clasped her hands together and pressed them to her chest. “You have to help our sons.” She was a few seconds slower than her sister so her plea, softer and less demanding, was all but lost.

  But Penelope heard the last word. And the nervous dancing of her stomach meant that their sons had managed to slip something past Noah last night after all. She shifted an inch or two to see his face unobstructed by the two women. He scrubbed a hand over his stubbly jaw then swore under his breath.

  When Noah looked up a moment later and found her watching him, he asked, “Want me to stay?”

  “It’s probably better if you don’t,” she said.

  “Definitely better,” Nina said, her voice a hoarse whisper. She gripped her sister’s hand at her side, their knuckles going instantly white from the pressure, and didn’t bother looking at him when she added, “Unless you’ve got some magical abilities you’ve been keeping to yourself all this time and can undo whatever is wrong with our sons.”

  “Nope. Whatever they did, they did to themselves. Nothing I can do to help that. I’ll be around if you need me, Penelope.”

  She nodded. He turned back once before he reached the door, but Nina and Heather were already talking again, their words running together and over each other in a frenzy of worry, and Penelope gave them her full attention.

  “Okay, slow down. Can just one of you tell me what happened?” Penelope asked.

  Nina released Heather’s hand and slapped her fingers against the counter to get the blood flowing again. “Well, as I’m sure Noah told you, he found Justin and Patrick in here last night. We don’t know exactly what they were looking for or what they might have found. Just that they’re not themselves this morning and it’s because of something they got here.”

  Something they stole. But correcting Nina’s word choice wouldn’t change whatever had happened. So instead, Penelope asked, “What did they say when you asked them?”

  “They don’t remember anything,” Nina said.

  “That’s convenient,” Penelope said. They were thieves and liars.

  Heather wiped a tear from her cheek and opened her eyes wide to keep more from escaping. “She doesn’t just mean about last night. They don’t know who they are. They can’t even remember their own names. It’s like their whole lives have been erased.”

  Her dreams from the night before rushed back to her in all-too-vivid snapshots. The magic out of control. People getting hurt, losing hope, blaming Penelope. If what Nina and Heather were saying was true, her dreams hadn’t been that far off from what was actually happening to the boys.

  But it wasn’t possible. Even if they’d found a recipe, they shouldn’t have been able to read it. The magic’s defenses would have made sure of that. This had to be something else. But what, she had no clue.

  Penelope gripped the key ring she’d set on the counter so the metal teeth of the keys bit into the soft skin of her palms. It wasn’t hard enough to break skin, but the sudden jolt of pain helped to clear her mind. “They must’ve eaten something while they were here, but I don’t know what would cause amnesia. We don’t have any chocolates that do that.”

  “I don’t care what it was. I just want you to fix it. Please.” Nina’s voice cracked, and she avoided meeting Penelope’s eyes.

  “All of the magic wears off eventually,” Penelope said.

  She led them to one of the sofas in the middle of the room. She took the leather armchair across from them. Heather perched on the edge of the couch with her hands folded between her bouncing knees while Nina leaned against the armrest for support. They both kept their eyes locked on Penelope.

  “It’s been almost twelve hours. Isn’t that more than enough time?” Heather said.

  “It depends on how many they ate. What they ate. The magic compounds the more you ingest, so it could be with them awhile yet.”

  Nina pressed her fingers to her mouth, but the words came out anyway. “Oh, God. What if it’s permanent?”

  Penelope refused to let that even be a possibility. “It won’t be,” she said. It couldn’t be. Even the heightened effects when Sabina consumed the chocolates she made didn’t last forever. “Noah said they didn’t get anything from the table. So whatever they ate was made by either me or my mom. And I promise it’s all safe. Whatever is happening with them will fade and their memories will come back.”

  Heather squeezed her sister’s arm. “They made something,” she said. “Last night after we picked them up. I thought they’d gone to bed but a few hours later I found them in the kitchen baking. I didn’t think anything of it, but what if that’s what caused it and I just let them do it without even knowing?”

  “They were brownies, I think. I found a couple of them wrapped up in a napkin in Patrick’s hoodie this morning,” Nina added. She leaned forward so she was shoulder to shoulder with her sister. A united front.

  Noah had been right. These women didn’t seem to care that their kids had broken into her shop and intended to steal from her. That thought temporarily overruled her empathy for the boys. Penelope pointed a finger at each of them in turn. “Let me get this straight. Your sons committed a crime and you just let them go on with their regularly scheduled evening?”

  She didn’t need to ask why the boys were allowed to be out that late on a school night. There usually wasn’t much trouble for kids to get into in Malarkey.

  “No, we talked to them and made them promise to never do anything like that again. And they were supposed to come to see you first thing this morning and apologize in person. Then when Justin woke up, his memories were gone.”

  “Patrick too. When we realized it was happening to both of them, we knew it had to be because of what they did here,” Heather said. She glanced at Nina, who nodded her agreement.

  “You have to help them, Penelope,” Nina said.

  Not even a please.

  She’d stopped expecting an apology about a minute into the conversation. But Nina and Heather demanding she fix the consequences of what their kids had done was so far over the line.

  She curled her fingers around the curved wooden handle of the chair and leaned toward them. “I don’t have to do anything. They broke into my business and tried to steal from me. The only reason they didn’t succeed is because they got caught.” She managed to keep her voice steady despite the surge of anger running through her.

  Nina’s face paled as Penelope’s words sunk in. “So you’re just going to let them stay cursed?” she asked.

  “No, I’m not. I promise you, I know how hard it is when there’s something wrong with your kid that you can’t fix. I’m not going to let them suffer just because I’m angry about what they did. But I need them to come into the shop and talk to me before I can do anything to help them.”

  “They’re sorry, Penelope.” A flush crept over Nina’s cheeks as if finally saying the words made her realize she should have started with them. “We’ll make them tell you every day for the rest of their lives if that’s what it takes. But please just do whatever you can first.”

  Heather bobbed her head up and down, instinctively agreeing with her sister. “We will. We swear they’ll apologize as many times as you want them to.”

  “I’m not looking for a
n apology,” Penelope said. Though that would be nice, considering what they’d done. She sat back, dropping her hands into her lap. “I need them to bring in the recipe they used for the brownies. And then I need them to try and find an antidote in the table.”

  “Why can’t you look for it without them?”

  Penelope fought the urge to yell at them both. They were scared and defensive. Just like any mother in their position would be. God knows she’d been there more often than not in the past year. She met their eyes and gave them the truth. “Because the contents of the table are exactly the way I left them yesterday despite your boys finding nothing but empty drawers, save for the one recipe that’s causing this whole mess. I’m guessing the magic is trying to teach them a lesson. And it won’t give them back their memories until they have learned it.”

  “If I didn’t know what you’ve been through with your daughter, I’m not sure I’d believe that the magic could be responsible for this on its own. But I honestly can’t imagine you’d hurt someone else’s child just to make a point,” Nina said, the fight in her dissipating.

  “I wouldn’t. Not ever,” Penelope said.

  Heather stood and pulled her sister to her feet as well. “We’ll bring them. And if you have any sway over the magic, please do whatever you can to help them.”

  Penelope stayed in the chair long after they’d gone, trying to convince herself the good the table does with its magic was worth all the bad it seemed to be doling out lately.

  * * *

  The rest of the day was a constant stream of questions and accusations and pleas to make the boys better. As if Penelope had wiped their memories personally. As if they had been innocent bystanders in this whole thing.

  Ruth Anne was the first one in after Nina and Heather went home to check on their sons. “Oh, Penelope honey, it’s just awful what happened to those boys. When I heard what they did, I was ready to march over to their houses and box their ears good. But then to find out they can’t even remember their own names. Well, that just broke my heart.”