She smiled at him and took a seat in the second row. Without her mom and Ella, the chairs next to her remained empty. Would her mom even come to these meetings after Ella was gone? Was this what her future looked like? The thought made her shiver. She peeled off her coat anyway and piled it on the seat next to her.
“We can’t start yet. Sabina’s not here,” someone called.
Penelope looked around but couldn’t tell who had said it. Everyone looked guilty, shifting side to side in the folding chairs and cutting quick glances in her direction without making eye contact. Their whispers crackled in the air like a live wire sparking against asphalt. Ruth Anne waved her hands as she continued her conversation with Delilah Jacobs as if Henry hadn’t spoken. Zan managed a half smile when she saw Penelope, almost as if she was embarrassed to be there. A half dozen people swarmed the Avery sisters, their voices louder than most as they gave updates on the boys’ status.
Thanks to Penelope and her mom, they were back to their normal selves. One of the first things Justin had asked her after his memories were restored was if she had changed her mind about the festival. The hint of arrogance in his tone made her wish, for just a second, that she’d left him memoryless. But that night, Patrick had filled her magnolia tree with thank-you notes. And instead of ringing the doorbell, he’d let her sleep through the night and wake up to discover his appreciation on her own. She left them hanging in her yard the whole day.
Marco sat behind Penelope and squeezed her shoulder. At least she had one supporter. Two, if she counted Noah. And she wasn’t sure she wanted to do that yet.
“Can’t we give Sabina a few more minutes?” someone on the far side asked.
“She’s not going to make it tonight,” Penelope said. She stopped short of apologizing.
“But she should have a say in this,” Delilah said, her high-pitched voice unmistakable even in this crowd.
Andy Mills turned in his chair so he could be better seen by the majority of the room. “I can’t believe Sabina would miss this meeting. She loves the Festival of Fate. Even more than the rest of us do.”
“She also loves her daughter,” Noah said. He didn’t bother looking up as he spoke, but he still managed to capture everyone’s attention. “And she probably doesn’t want to listen to what y’all are going to be saying about her tonight. If it were me, I’d tell y’all where you could stick it. But Mrs. Dalton’s way classier than I am, so I guess I can’t blame her for staying away from all this.”
Sometimes Noah made it really difficult to not like him. Penelope took a deep breath, letting his words bolster her. “Honestly, my mom just doesn’t want to have to take sides. So she’s not.”
Henry hung his coat on the back of a chair facing the group, then sat. Looking first to Penelope then out to the rest of the room, he said, “Well, we can’t blame Sabina for that, now can we?”
A few murmurs of “no” rose from the group.
“All right then. Let’s get started.” Henry removed a stack of paper from a folder beside his chair. “And please remember to keep your comments focused on the topic at hand and not make any personal attacks. That’s not what we’re here for tonight.”
“No one here has it out for Penelope,” Delilah said. “We just want a chance to be heard, that’s all.”
“And you will,” he said.
Penelope listened as he ran through an overview of the agenda, which consisted of the welcome he was currently giving and a discussion of the future of the Festival of Fate. With the larger-than-expected turnout, he anticipated they would take the whole hour, so he made the executive decision as mayor to hold the remaining discussion points until the regularly scheduled meeting next month. No one argued.
“Based on the dozens of calls and letters dropped off at my office and even a few of you who’ve stopped me in line at the grocery store, you’ve all got good reasons to want to have the Festival of Fate go on like always. I’m not going to repeat everything you’ve told me tonight.” The crowd whispered and grumbled and shouted their displeasure. Henry quieted them with a quick wave of his hands and a few seconds of staring them into submission. “Don’t worry. I’ll run through the highlights.”
Penelope curled her fingers around the edge of her seat.
“For one, the festival is tradition. The bonfire and camaraderie of the whole town being together as the year comes to a close. It’s a part of who we are as individuals and as a town. For two, the festival is our chance to change things. Make our lives and our town better. And for three, the magic has never let us down in the past. Every single one of us has asked for the future we wanted and received it.
“Now, we can have the festival without the magic Sabina and Penelope bring us every year. We can gather in the park and throw our wishes into the fire like nothing’s changed. But we all know the magic’s the entire reason for the festival. Without it, there isn’t much point.”
And, no surprise, the whole room agreed.
Penelope had to admit the festival itself wasn’t a bad idea. She just couldn’t see anyone agreeing to hold it without the Kismet hot chocolate they all believed in so fiercely.
When Henry opened the meeting up to questions, Andy was the first to throw one out. “So, are you going to shut down the Chocolate Cottage too? Because from where we’re sitting, the magic you sell there is a heck of a lot worse than people asking the universe for a specific future.”
“It probably is,” Penelope conceded. “But that’s only because those chocolates actually work. We all just assume the Kismet hot chocolate we drink at the festival works because we want it to, but we don’t have any proof that we can actually change our fate. It’s nice to believe in until you need it to work. Then it just feels like a big slap in the face.”
“How can you say that after we all made extra wishes for Ella’s future last year? And now look at her. She’s doing so well, going to school full-time and making friends. If that’s not a miracle, I don’t know what is,” Ruth Anne said.
It was a lie. A horrible, heartbreaking lie.
Maybe they’d understand why holding a festival to celebrate the future was such a bad idea if she told them the truth.
“She’s not,” Penelope said. Her voice was so soft no one even heard her. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Ella’s not better. She won’t get better. The only miracle now is that she’s doing as well as she is.”
That shut everyone up. For a few seconds, the only sound in the whole room was their collective intake of breath. Then they all broke out in questions at once.
“What are you taking about?”
“I saw her yesterday. She looked fine.”
“Is she still in treatment?”
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
“That sweet little girl has been through so much already.”
Each word hit the mark, leaving a scar as a souvenir on her heart.
Now that one truth was out there, she had no reason to keep holding on to the other. Gathering up her coat and purse in shaking hands, she looked at the roomful of people who had trusted her, believed in the magic her family had promised them.
“The Kismet hot chocolate doesn’t work. It can’t help you change the future. All it can do is give you false hope that there’s a way around the inevitable. And that’s not fair to any of us. So you can still have the festival. You can wish and you can hope for the futures you want. But magic’s not going to make any difference in how things turn out.”
Noah shoved open the emergency exit for her, and she stumbled past him. She felt his warm fingers on her arm. Then she felt nothing but the cold as she fled.
22
Sabina worked at the shop on her own the following day, allowing Penelope one day’s reprieve. But Penelope couldn’t avoid people forever. She wasn’t ready to answer the barrage of questions about Ella or the Kismet hot chocolate yet, but she’d brought it on herself when she’d told most of the town about Ella, and there was no way to take it ba
ck now.
Her front porch was littered with notes from her neighbors, offering love and sympathy and wishes for a miraculous recovery. The front of the Chocolate Cottage contained at least as many letters, if not more.
“You’ve only made them more determined to have the festival,” her mother said.
“Even knowing the hot chocolate doesn’t work?”
“It’s not always about the end result, Penelope. Sometimes people just want to have a little hope.”
Well, they could keep their hope. It hadn’t done Penelope any bit of good anyway.
* * *
The one person Penelope hadn’t been able to ignore was River. When she’d invited Ella over after school one day, all Ella had to do was point at the item on her list where she’d added Get a best frend and Penelope caved. The Gregorys’ door opened to a squeal of delight so high-pitched Penelope half-expected the neighborhood dogs to start howling. Before she got a good look at the creature it came from, a small hand whipped out, grabbed Ella, and disappeared down the hall.
Layne took her daughter’s place at the door and tugged on her ponytail to tighten it. “I think she’s part Nazgûl. Nothing else explains that sound.” Her laugh stuttered for a second before dropping out altogether.
Penelope tried to place the thing Layne named, but couldn’t get closer than knowing it was from some classic fantasy or science fiction story. “So that’s normal?” she asked, smiling to ease the awkwardness.
“Only when she’s really excited. But she’s an eight-year-old girl, so yeah, pretty much all the time.” Layne’s loose-fitting tee billowed behind her as the wind rushed in the closing door.
Penelope tripped over a duffel bag that lay open at the base of a bench in the entryway. She caught herself on the wall as Layne stooped to shove it under the bench. Scuffed pointe shoes and a pale pink leotard spilled out onto the floor. Layne’s face flushed when she stood and apologized, her gaze locking on the hooks above the bench that overflowed with puffy jackets and vests, a thicket of scarves, and three motorcycle helmets.
“Ella’s excitement comes out of her as uncontrollable giggling. Like so much so that she almost hyperventilates,” Penelope said. She followed Layne down the hall and into a bright kitchen with so many small appliances on the counters there was no work space. “The first time, I thought she was gonna pass out. I called the doctor to make sure she would be okay.”
“The first time River made that sound I thought she’d busted my eardrums. I had Tucker check to make sure they weren’t bleeding. Then I briefly contemplated getting her a muzzle but figured that would be frowned upon.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure that would go over well, and I applaud your restraint. That might be the most intense sound I’ve ever heard.”
“I know. If she wasn’t so damn happy when she does it I’d have tried to make her stop by now. But—”
“Seeing your kid happy is the best thing in the world,” Penelope finished for her.
Layne stopped at the refrigerator and motioned Penelope toward the high-top bistro table on the other side of the room. Her shoulders relaxed and her smile came quicker than it had before. “Do you want something to drink? I’ve got water, sweet tea, hot tea, wine.”
Penelope set her clutch wallet and keys on the table and used the footrest on the chair for balance as she pushed up into it. “Water’s fine.”
Layne filled two cups and carried them to the table. One looked like a blue British police box and the other was white with round black glasses and a lightning bolt over one side.
“Sorry about the plastic. We’re not real fancy around here. But we could probably win a Guinness world record for having the largest collection of geek cups.”
“Will you hate me if I don’t know what most of them are?” Penelope asked, picking up the blue cup.
“Oh, no. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m nerdy and I don’t hold it against anyone.” Layne traced the lightning bolt on the other cup. “But you might not want to tell me when you don’t understand a reference because then I’ll probably try to convince you to give it a try. And by convince, I mean push it on you until you cave just to make me shut up.”
“Duly noted.”
The girls’ voices carried to them from somewhere deeper in the house. Whatever they said was drowned out by bubbling laughter and stomping feet as they danced to a Taylor Swift song. Penelope watched the doorway, worrying something would break and praying it wouldn’t be a bone. When the girls started laughing again, Penelope and Layne shrugged at each other and laughed in time with their daughters.
“I wasn’t at the town meeting, but Noah filled us in on what happened,” Layne said. She wrapped her hands around the water cup and drummed her short nails against it in an uneven rhythm. “How are you doing? How’s Ella? I just can’t even imagine.”
Had Penelope really thought she could avoid talking about it?
Her stomach pretzeled into a knot. “It’s pretty much the worst,” she said. Now that the truth was out, her lips couldn’t form a lie. Instead of meeting the sympathetic look she knew Layne was giving her, she stared at the photographs of River on the wall that looked as if someone had gone by and knocked them all askew on purpose. “But it helps that Ella got to pretend to be normal for a little while. And having a friend like River has made her so happy. So there are still some good times.”
“You don’t have to do that, you know.”
“Do what?”
“Give a rehearsed response. If you’re doing it just to spare me the gory details, don’t.” Layne jerked her hands up as if to physically stop Penelope from running away. She knocked her cup, and water sloshed out onto the table. “You’re already dealing with so much on your own, and doing it with so much more composure and an impressive lack of cussing than I ever could, the least I can do is be here to listen if that’s what you need.”
Grabbing a napkin from the holder, Penelope spread it out to sop up the water and said, “If I let my guard down, I won’t be able to put it back up again. And then I won’t make it through this. So please don’t take it personally. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the offer.”
Layne didn’t even try to smile. And that meant more than Penelope could ever say.
“Okay. Yeah. That makes total sense. But if you—”
Shoes slapped the floor as the girls ran down the hall, drowning out the rest of the sentence. They both looked toward the kitchen entrance as two delighted faces poked around the corner and started talking at the same time in words so fast and crammed together they were unintelligible.
Ella took a breath and glanced at River for confirmation that she could share whatever news they had. Then she said, “Mama! Noah’s home! C’mon, let’s go see him!” She waved her hand so violently that Penelope thought her wrist might snap.
Penelope curled her fingers around the chair handles, forcing her breath to stay calm and even despite the spike in her pulse at the thought of seeing him. She couldn’t trust herself not to blurt out the one secret she had left if he showed concern for Ella’s health. “You can go see him without me, I think,” she said.
“Okay. We’ll be right back.” Ella raced out of the room, repeating his name at a near-yell.
Layne swiveled her chair side to side, letting her eyes roam from Penelope to the door every few seconds as if she could see the tension pulsing off Penelope like neon lights.
Noah walked into view with Ella and River each holding one of his hands. He lifted the one attached to Ella and pointed at Penelope, his smile faltering when his eyes locked on her. “Well, this is a nice surprise. Four of my favorite girls waiting for me to get home. Now, which one of you is making my supper?” Despite the playfulness in his voice, he wasn’t about to let Penelope off as easily as Layne had.
She looked away.
“We will,” River said.
“Yeah, we will,” Ella echoed.
As much as she wanted to let the girls distract him, Pen
elope’s conscience wouldn’t let her. “Oh, no. Don’t let that one near your kitchen unless you want to bring in the hazmat guys after,” she said, pointing at Ella.
“Hey,” Ella said, rolling her lips into a pout.
“You know me,” Noah said. “It’s not fun if there’s nothing at stake.”
The girls tugged him into the kitchen and deposited him by the table. He held on to his smile when they told him to have a seat and decide what he wanted to eat while they got ready. He slipped into the chair next to Penelope, letting his hand graze the side of her knee for a fraction of a second then pulled away when her body went rigid.
Any amount of comfort on his part was too much when she was keeping the fact that Ella was his daughter from him.
Tucker hobbled into the kitchen, his crutches thumping against the tile floor with each step. “I love that you get the personal escort to the kitchen while the guy on crutches has to fend for himself,” he said to his brother.
Layne paused to kiss him on her way to ensure the girls didn’t turn the kitchen into a disaster area. Penelope almost followed but that would have been like a big flashing sign that she was avoiding Noah. So she stayed put.
“I can’t help it if I’m everyone’s favorite,” Noah said.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Penelope there looks ready to jump out of her skin if you get much closer.”
Penelope couldn’t even tell Tucker he was wrong. Though it wasn’t for any reason he might have expected.
“That was a joke,” he said when she remained quiet.
Noah’s expression hardened. His voice followed suit when he said, “Obviously not a very good one.” Then he turned back to Penelope, tipping his head so his mouth was close to her ear. “You okay?”
She made her lips form a smile. “I’m fine, Noah.”
“I didn’t mean just with my brother being a jerk. Are you okay after everything the other night? Everything with Ella?”
The sincere worry in his voice only added to her guilt. She had to get away from it—from him—before it consumed her.
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