“Tell us, Penny. Did you meet him? Is he handsome? Is he tall?” Excitement twinkled in Winnie’s blue eyes.
Penn grimaced. She hated to extinguish that light. “We’ve been down this road before.”
Jancie crossed her arms and slanted her head. “We started down it, but we didn’t finish our trip.”
“Hilarious, Aunt Jancie.” Penn combed her fingers through her hair and massaged the back of her neck. “The trip isn’t very interesting.”
“We’ll be the judge. Spill, Penny. Oops. I mean Penn.”
Penn sighed. She’d have to discuss her meeting with the new Martian. Her aunts’ determination and the cinnamon-chocolaty scent had loosened her resolve to keep the meeting to herself. Surrender waited around the corner.
“First, tell me what smells so good?” As if she didn’t know.
Both aunts cried in unison, “Celebration cookies!” Flanking her like armed guards, they led her toward the kitchen.
~*~
Penn dunked her warm cookie into the milk. Celebration cookies, designated for Christmas, first hyacinth of spring, last day of school, signaled high hopes for her love life.
Too bad they’d be disappointed, just like all the other times since prom when they’d raised their hopes for a beau.
Jancie dragged the blue willow ware plate toward Winnie and folded her hands on the table. “We’ve waited long enough, sweetie pie. Swallow that cookie and tell us the news.”
Penn sipped the milk. “There is no news. Yes, John Townsend attended the meeting. Yes, I met him, but don’t get any ideas about a courtship. He’s not my type, and I’m certainly not his.” She reached for another cookie and tried to delete the image of herself crawling over the stick shift from her mind.
“What do you mean ‘you’re not his type’? Anybody would be lucky to have you on his arm.” Winnie patted the top of her hand. “You’re beautiful, kind, smart, funny—”
“Thank you for those endorsements, but I can name just as many reasons he isn’t interested.” She popped up her index finger. “One, he thought I was a teenager.” She added her middle finger. “Two, he thought I looked too old to be a teenager.”
Winnie, ever the compassionate one, tsked tsked Penn’s stubbornness. “Maybe you flustered him.”
Janice frowned. “Maybe you caught him off guard or intimidated him.”
“Tall, dark, and dangerous men don’t get intimidated by short, goofy women.”
“Oooh, sounds interesting.” Winnie grinned and clapped. “I knew it. Marge Baumgartner said he was a looker. She saw him coming out of the real estate office down town a few weeks ago. She said she heard he bought that brown house over on Clay Avenue. She said—”
“Winnie, hush. Take a breath. That’s gossip.” Jancie turned her attention back to Penn. “What do you mean ‘dangerous’?”
“He rides a motorcycle.”
Jancie lowered her chin. “That doesn’t necessarily mean…” She shook her head. “Honey, don’t talk down about yourself. You have a fine career; you help out with the youth group at church; you’re involved with your community—”
She rolled her eyes. “Mmm, thanks. I’m a great person. Hey, why am I the only one eating cookies?” Penn pushed the plate away from her.
“I’m watching my girlish figure.” Winnie lifted her chin and pushed back her shoulders. Though she carried about thirty pounds over her ideal weight, she gave good, soft hugs.
“What she means is, we ate our share while we baked. Now, back to the story.” Jancie never watched what she ate, but her tall frame remained as slim as it had been during her college days.
“Uh huh. Anyway, here’s reason three he’s not interested in me. He laughed at me.” Penn pushed cookie crumbs into a pile in the middle of her napkin.
“He laughed at you? Well, personally, I think humor is the grease that keeps a marriage well-oiled. Laughter is a good thing, Penn.” Jancie should know. She’d married—for the first time—at forty, a man fifteen years her senior and three inches shorter.
From the stories Penn had heard at family reunions, the two had made a striking couple for five years hosting great themed parties until he dropped dead of a stroke. The funeral had been a mix of testimonials about strong faith in God and his over-the-top pranks on loved ones.
Winnie’s eyebrows shot toward her gray bangs. “Maybe you misconstrued the situation, dear. Maybe he was laughing with you not at you.”
“Um. No. We finished our conversation. I grabbed the handle. The door jammed. Phooey on Gretchen, by the way, and I had to crawl in from the passenger side.” Penn grimaced remembering the less-than-graceful moment.
“She wouldn’t let you in?” Winnie’s eyes shined with optimism. “See, you were supposed to stay and talk.”
“We had nothing else to say. So, listen up.” Penn leaned toward her aunts, narrowed what she hoped were steely eyes. “Do not keep thinking about matchmaking, OK? I’m glad he’s on the committee. Heaven knows we need some new blood, but we’re committee members. That’s it. Move on to another project, all right?” She pressed a fingertip against the pile of crumbs and licked them off.
“We love you, honey.” Winnie’s tone camped out just this side of whining.
She flattened her lips and used her best no-nonsense teacher voice. “I mean it. File this plan under ‘Denied’.”
Jancie reared back in her chair, folding her arms. “I want to meet this man before I make any broad promises. I will promise I won’t embarrass you, though. How’s that?”
Penn groaned, broke another cookie in two, and crunched on the cinnamon delight.
~*~
Penn followed her aunts into the choir loft and scanned the congregation. She enjoyed the peaceful feeling that settled on her every time she participated in the choir. Today she and her aunts had the special music for the call to worship. She loved singing with her aunts. They’d taught her harmony years ago, and she liked sharing their talent with the church that had always rallied around her tiny family.
After the Welcome and Announcements, Penn, Winnie, and Jancie stood with music books in hand, and Penn searched the crowd again for the faces she knew and loved. A familiar pair of black eyes met her gaze, and John smiled at her. Her stomach seized.
She missed the opening phrase of the song, clutched her lapis ring and squeezed against the swirls of the scrollwork with her thumb.
Winnie glanced at her as she joined the aunts by the end of the first measure.
Training her vision on the group of ushers in the narthex, she concentrated on the rise and fall of her line of harmony.
What was he doing here?
In the several weeks since she’d met him, she’d never seen him in church. Why start today and make her ruin the beginning of the song? She’d been in such a happy mood this morning.
The aunts had memorized this favorite song years ago. She didn’t need the music to sing her part either, but she forced her gaze back to the folder, following the black dots’ trek across the staff lines.
Thankfully, her efforts in concentration resulted in a pretty good rendition of their special song. Besides the hiccup at the beginning, which still irritated her, she thought their contribution to the worship service enhanced rather than detracted from it.
As the choir joined the congregation for the sermon, her traitorous eyes spied John.
His head was bent over his bulletin. Not looking at her.
“See,” she wanted to whisper to her aunts. “He’s not interested.”
She settled into a pew wanting to relish being right. Instead, a familiar ache, a heavy longing swelled and choked her happy attitude. She shifted on the cushion. What was wrong with her? She didn’t want him to be interested. Not really.
~*~
John folded the bulletin and slipped it inside his Bible as he stood to leave the sanctuary. He’d enjoyed the service, especially the surprise from Penn. What a beautiful voice.
The tone of her voice had
blended like perfectly tuned instruments with the other ladies. After the tentative start, a patch or two of goose bumps had broken out on his arms at a couple of places in the song. He stepped out into the sluggish aisle and glanced toward the front door.
People pumped the pastor’s arm and patted him on the back. Everybody wanted to speak to the man.
Seeing her here with a prominent role in the service shocked him, for sure. She hadn’t exactly given off any church vibes at their first meeting. Prickly, that’d been his first thought. Prickly and cute.
Hold up.
Cute, yes, but caution around cute females was his agenda these days. After the “breakup” with Stephanie. He hadn’t known they were “dating.” He suppressed a shudder as he remembered her tears and angry words when he’d told her he was moving to Pennsylvania. Had he been unconscious during their time together? He’d thought they were friends, good friends. When had she subscribed to Weddings Today?
Stephanie had been fun, just like all his friends in the apartment complex. He’d enjoyed spending time with them, but he’d thought of them as friends. Just friends.
Penn, however, intrigued him. She’d captured his attention from the time she entered the meeting the other day.
Maybe it was her good heart, the one that led her to the apple committee. Maybe it was her spunky outer shell that kept him at arm’s length. Or her big, brown eyes that held a touch of humor and compassion in their depths. Maybe he just needed a friend.
No, it was more than that. Penn Davenport seemed special, and John wanted to get to know her better. As friends? For sure. As something more? Maybe.
If she’d let him.
He advanced as a group merged into the center aisle and almost crushed the pointy toe of a member of Penn’s trio. “Excuse me. So sorry. I didn’t get your foot, did I?”
Clear blue eyes sparkled up at him. “No harm, no foul. No worries.” Then she gasped. “Oh, are you our newest Martian? Penn’s told us all about you.”
John glanced at Penn. If looks could kill. The red stains creeping into her cheeks heightened her cuteness. “Aunt Winnie, I—”
“I hope all good things.” John grinned and noticed a movement in Penn’s cheek, just like at the meeting the other day.
“John, please let me introduce my aunts to you. Aunt Winnie, Aunt Jancie, this is John Townsend, the newest member of the Apple Fest Committee.”
“Happy to meet you, John.” Aunt Jancie inched closer to the pastor and turned back to John. “We’re glad you worshiped with us today.”
“Thank you. I enjoyed your special music. You’re very talented.” He stole a quick peek at Penn whose mouth had leveled into a foreboding straight line.
Reaching the pastor, they couldn’t continue with the small talk. When they stepped onto the front porch, John turned to Penn. “Did you get Clara’s text?”
“What text?”
“Looks like you and I are on the entertainment committee.”
Did she have to pop her eyes and drop her mouth so wide?
The assignment didn’t thrill him either. He’d hoped to work on the construction or vendor committee or even the parking committee on the day of the event if such a committee existed. What did he know about entertainment? His idea of fun included a movie and popcorn—at home, or maybe whitewater rafting, or bungee jumping, or—
“I’m supposed to be the budget committee. I keep the books. Committee people come to me for financial requests. I don’t work on other committees. Clara knows that.” Penn’s brow bunched up under soft-looking curls as she dug in her purse. She retrieved her cellphone and turned it on.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to bring bad news. Maybe it’s just a misunderstanding.”
“Now wait a minute. The entertainment committee sounds like fun. Winnie and I can give you lots of ideas.” The taller woman, Jancie, grinned and cut her gaze toward her sister.
Winnie winked and nodded.
Breathing deeply, Penn closed her eyes while she waited for the phone to come to life. “I apologize, too. It’s just—I’m not...I mean—I don’t—”
“Hey. Me either—I think.” He tunneled his fingers through his hair and shrugged. “But we’re not the only ones in the group. Two or three more drew the short stick, too.” John chuckled, hoping for a similar response from Penn.
She read from her palm. “Missy Parker, Al Martin, and Linda Schroeder. Is Missy back from Bucknell already?”
Winnie adjusted her Bible and her purse. “Her grandmother told me they expect her any day now.”
“Al won’t be much help. Isn’t his wife due sometime this summer? Maybe Linda can lead the charge.” She huffed out a sigh.
Jancie raised her hands as if to stop traffic. “I know. Why don’t we continue this conversation over lunch? John, we’d love to have you join us.” She smiled and nudged Winnie.
“That’s a great idea.” Winnie giggled.
Ignoring Penn’s wide eyes and open mouth, John shook his head. “Thank you ladies so much, but I’m meeting someone. In fact, I need to get going. Nice to meet you both.” He glanced at Penn. “See you at the meeting, I guess.”
She nodded, but she didn’t smile.
No warm and fuzzies for the newcomer, huh?
Maybe she was preoccupied with the committee news. Maybe she didn’t need a new friend.
She moved away and helped her aunts into a car. Homesickness churned his insides, and he stuck his hands in his pockets.
“Till the next meeting, Miss Davenport.”
3
Penn coasted into the parking lot of the Town Hall and noticed John, straddling his motorcycle and removing his helmet. He wore a faded crimson golf shirt and khaki shorts. What happened to his all-black look?
He limped toward her.
She zipped her eyes from his feet back to his face.
He caught her gaze and shrugged. “I got a limp.”
She nodded and tried not to blush. So. He was a straight shooter. A point in his favor. “Motorcycle accident?”
He smirked. “Funny.” Then he shook his head. “We had a little problem when I was born.” He stretched his arms above his head and yawned. “Man. I’m tired. Just got back into town.”
“You travel with work?”
“Yeah. I—”
“Hey, you two. I’m so excited about this group. Aren’t you?” Linda Schroeder slid out of her minivan with ten or twelve file folders threatening to tumble out of her arms.
John lunged toward her and grabbed a handful just as they slipped over the top.
Linda racked up committee spots like Penn’s students collected hall passes. She served on two PTAs in two different schools, volunteered for Meals on Wheels, served on the Arts Council and library board, chaired the town improvement committee, and taught an exercise class once a week. In her spare time, she mothered four active children.
By the looks of those folders, she had ideas, lots of them, for entertainment. Penn smiled.
Linda would be the perfect chairperson for this committee. She rattled on, leading the way to the building. “I started jotting down ideas right after last year’s festival. Bands to invite, dance troupes, and I think I even have contact information for a puppet theater group.” Linda thumbed through the folders, perhaps searching for the puppet group. “They performed last year for the summer reading bash at the library. Did you come, Penn? Wonderful afternoon.”
Perfect.
Penn sank into a chair, her heart as light as the gauzy scarf tied around Linda’s neck.
With Linda in charge, being on this committee would be a snap. Maybe they wouldn’t even need Penn. Maybe she could go back to her finance reports.
Linda paused for a breath, and Penn realized she waited for an answer.
“Ahh, no. I didn’t make it. I thought the bash was for children in the reading program.”
“That’s true, but we offered the puppet performance to the whole of Mars.” Linda spread the folders on the conference ta
ble. “Now, let’s see. Who’re we missing?”
Al Martin burst through the front door and entered the conference room. “Sorry I’m late. I caught a speeder right before I was supposed to clock off duty.” He ran his fingers over his short cropped brown hair. “Whew. Long day.”
John nodded and rubbed the back of his neck.
Linda grabbed a pen and wrote the date on her yellow pad. “We need to go ahead and start. We’ll catch Missy up to speed when she gets here. The first thing we should do is elect a chairperson of this subcommittee. Do we—”
Penn lurched forward, plunked her palm on the table in front of Linda. “I nominate you.”
“Second!” Both men spoke at once.
Linda’s eyes shined. “Well, I’d be honored if that’s what you want.”
Penn offered a thumbs-up. “Definitely.” She relaxed against the back of her chair. “You be the leader and tell us how to help.”
Linda grinned. “Great. Right off the bat, I suggest we go to Hartwood Acres. Have you ever been to the free Sunday evening concerts over there? It’s a great time. In fact,” she scanned her day timer, “this Sunday there’s an interesting local band opening for the headliner.” She focused on Penn. “How much do we have in our budget?”
“Oh, um.” Penn, caught daydreaming about nominating Linda, blinked herself back to the present. “I think this committee had a little less than a thousand dollars last year. Depends on what the township allocates for the whole festival. I doubt we’ll get more, but I’ll check.” She gritted her teeth. Why didn’t she remember to bring her budget folder? One more item John could add to his Ditzy Penn list. She shouldn’t care what he thought, but looking incompetent rankled.
“Less than a thousand? Hmm. OK. We might have to ask for more. Hint. Hint.” She batted her eyelashes at Penn. “Anyway, we’ll probably need to meet every week for a while to get our agenda set. Now. About Sunday. Do you want to meet at the park or get together beforehand?”
Mars with Venus Rising Page 2