He rubbed his chin. A day at an amusement park would be fun. He loved roller coasters. He also wanted to get to know Andy better.
They’d had a couple of lunches since the first time John had visited the church. Besides the fact that Andy was married with a baby on the way, this acquaintance might be the beginning of a good friendship.
Yeah. He’d go on Saturday. Maybe Andy would have some advice about Penn.
8
Penn threw her head back against the church bus seat and laughed at the antics of Grace and Trudy, rising freshmen. Teaching junior and senior classes, she hadn’t taught them in school yet, but she’d known them since they were born.
Embodying the definition of giggly teenage girls, they whispered secrets, pealed with laughter, and whispered something new. They loved singing in the youth choir, but almost every time the group sang, either Grace or Trudy would elbow the other one. The struggle to control themselves would ensue—biting the bottom lip, refusing to make eye contact with each other. Giggles usually erupted before the song ended.
Their enthusiasm spilled onto everyone near them. At present, both faced her over the back of their seat, singing an impromptu song about going to the amusement park with a youth group.
“Dear ole Pe-enn. Dear ole Pe-enn.
Fun chaperone. Fun chaperone.
She-ee likes to crochet. She-ee likes to crochet.
Covers for phones. Covers for phones.”
Their lyrics sent them into hysterical laughter bending them double. They clutched each other.
“You silly girls, I’m crocheting baby booties, not a phone cover. And that’s ‘Ms. Davenport’ to you, by the way.”
A movement at the front of the bus caught her eye, and she looked straight into the dark brown eyes of John. The smile froze on her lips. She sucked in air and managed to nod in his direction.
He smiled back before dropping his gaze to the floor and following Andy down the aisle.
At her gasp, Trudy and Grace jerked their attention to the front, slid to their seats, and giggled.
“Hi, Penn. Thanks again for coming today.” Andy gestured behind him. “Do you know John Townsend? He’s agreed to help out today, too.”
“Yeah.”
“Uh huh.”
Penn’s eyes flickered toward the window. Was there any way to escape spending the day with John?
More giggles from the seat in front of her.
“Joh-nn Townsend. Joh-nn Townsend.
Coming, too. Coming, too.
La la la la la la. La la la la la la.
La la la. La la la.”
John rewarded the young teens with a grin that highlighted the dimple in his right cheek.
Andy shook his head. “You girls already starting? Rare form, today, huh?”
Giggles.
Krista, Andy’s wife, appeared at the top of the bus’s steps. “Andy, everyone’s out of the fellowship hall. I think we’re ready.”
“Great. Thanks, hon.” He clapped his hands. “Let’s get this show on the road. John, if you want to sit up front, you can help me navigate.” Andy nodded to the empty seat behind the driver.
John glanced at the backpack occupying the place beside Penn and the shoulder bag in the seat across the aisle. “Sounds good.” He caught Penn’s gaze. “See ya when we get there.”
The two of them moved back up the aisle and jockeyed for position with Krista. She laughed and kissed her husband on the cheek to cheers from the teenagers.
Krista plopped down across from Penn. “Now I should be able to make it until the park bathrooms. I hope, that is!” She laughed and adjusted the maternity top covering her expanding mid-section.
Determined to settle the chaos racking her insides, Penn focused on her companion. “How’re you feeling?”
“Terrific. I won’t be able to ride most of the rides, but I don’t mind holding the belongings for everybody else. I’m just happy for a fun day with Andy—even if he is technically working. This is a good group. Not any troublemakers, you know?”
Penn agreed. These teenagers were good. She knew most of them from church. Others she’d taught or seen at school. The teenagers didn’t worry her, but the tall, dark, and handsome chaperone chatting with Andy stole her breath, raced her heart, and caused her to bite her lip. John Townsend, the P-I-L-O-T.
He’d want to talk about last Saturday’s dinner. She wanted to avoid that conversation.
And him, too.
She’d envisioned this day differently, for sure. She’d planned to sit with Krista, teaching her to crochet booties, watching the teens’ paraphernalia, maybe riding a tame ride or two if Trudy or Grace asked her.
Now add to that list: steering clear of John. More than likely, she wouldn’t have to worry too much about him.
The boys already peppered him with questions about his motorcycle. They found his daredevil lifestyle fascinating.
Good.
He could ride all the rides with the new members of his fan club, and she could spend the day with Krista as planned.
~*~
Or not.
The teens jostled each other with all the anticipation of puppies waiting for kibble as Andy finished his youth pastor speech about applying sunscreen, staying together in groups of at least three, and meeting back at the picnic tables for lunch. As soon as he said, “Have fun,” they burst into the park in every direction.
Andy grabbed Krista’s hand and called, “See ya in a few,” over his shoulder.
John stood beside the bus with his thumbs hooked in his belt loops.
Penn blinked. What had just happened?
She and John were now a group? If her aunts had been anywhere near the park or if they’d known John was chaperoning, too, she’d believe those two were matchmaking again.
Trudy and Grace, with two other girls, skipped toward the section of the park with most of the big rides.
Her stomach clenched with a longing ache for their silly giggles to buffer the awkward silence settling on them.
John ran his hand through his hair before shoving both in the pockets of his khaki shorts and rocked on his heels. “So, Penn. Looks like it’s you and me.”
“Looks like it.” She adjusted her sunglasses. She tried not to notice the way his hair feathered around his face, accenting his eyes. A scent of cotton candy drifted by her nose, and she focused on that instead. She’d buy some this afternoon.
John nodded toward the coolers and grocery bags dotting four picnic tables. “We really leave all our stuff on these tables and no one bothers them? Seriously?”
She grinned. “Yep. That’s one of the special quirks about this park. We claim our tables now and use them at lunch.”
“Cool.”
More awkward silence.
She took in a deep breath and exhaled. “Listen, I’m not much for the rides, so if you want to catch up with some of those boys, no problem.”
Eyebrows shot above his aviators. “And leave you by yourself? What kind of friend would I be? Come on. We’ll find a ride that suits you or die trying.” He unfolded a glossy map of the park and studied it.
She pushed her shoulders back. “I really wasn’t planning to ride today. I thought I’d squirt sunscreen, hold cellphones so they didn’t drop out of pockets, count heads, that kind of thing.”
He peeked over the edge of the map. “That sounds like a really big time.” John’s grin softened the sarcasm and tugged at her heart. “You know, chaperones can have some fun, too.”
“I’m completely aware of that, thank you. I’ve chaperoned before. It’s just...our idea of fun is probably poles apart.”
He closed the map, not taking time to refold it by the original creases. “Penn.” His voice dropped a notch. “I’m not one for ignoring a pink elephant. I’m sorry about the other night. I thought you knew I’m a pilot. I didn’t know how you feel about flying.”
Rats. She didn’t want to have this conversation. Another difference between the two of them. Sh
e could’ve gone all day ignoring the pink elephant lumbering between them. She latched onto the part of the conversation that didn’t hurt too much. “I thought you were a writer. You told me you’d write an article about refurbishing your house.”
“Right. I do plan to. I’m just sorry that you felt...maybe ambushed or something.”
Ambushed? Because she’d stumbled from the table and hidden in her room the rest of the night? Because she’d left her aunts to answer his inevitable questions? Because she’d acted like some kind of head case?
She chewed on her bottom lip trying to think of something to say. “No problem. Don’t worry about it.”
He shook his head, squinting at her. “You didn’t answer your phone all week. Or return my messages.”
“My phone’s been off. I’ve been studying.” She looked at the baskets on the tables, ignoring his eyes.
“You’re telling me a twenty-something kept her phone off all week?”
She shrugged, and her gaze wandered to a dad pushing a double stroller. “I needed to concentrate. We have a land line at home.”
“Yeah. I tried that, too. Your aunts are great gate keepers, by the way. They protect you very well.”
Her head jerked back to him. “You think I need to be protected?”
“No. Especially not from me.”
She couldn’t think of a response.
Shrieks, laughter, and music from the rides filled the silence between them.
He stepped closer to her. “Penn, I just moved here. I’m trying to make friends. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not that kind of person.”
Friend. That word again? Fine. He wanted a friend, not a girlfriend. The question was—could she be friends with a pilot?
~*~
As soon as the words left John’s mouth, a vision of Stephanie floated through his mind. He was that kind of person. Although he hadn’t meant to, he’d hurt Stephanie, a friend from the local ski club. She’d read much more into their time exploring the slopes and drinking peppermint hot chocolates than he’d intended.
He’d been forthright about applying for piloting jobs. He dropped details about various airports into their study sessions for her real estate license exam, but when he announced his move to Mars, she’d offered a position in her father’s real estate office. She’d convinced herself he was a natural for selling houses.
Stephanie’s error in assessing his personality proved she didn’t know him. He hated selling, would fail at selling ice at the equator.
After respectfully declining the offer, he’d left for his apartment. She’d called before he could unlock his door.
Her words burned into his brain. “I need to be clear. You’re really moving? To...to...that place in Pennsylvania? That Moon place?”
“Mars.”
“Whatever. So what does that mean? I mean...where does that leave us?”
“Us?”
Her quick intact of breath should have been a red flag for him, but it confused him rather than warned him.
“John?” She whined the question in his ear. “We’ve been seeing each other for six and a half months. Doesn’t that count for anything?”
John’s heart tightened with the words reverberating in his mind.
“Stephanie, I...” He shook his head at the memory.
How could she have misinterpreted their friendship, painted them as a couple? They’d never kissed, never even held hands. Most of the time their activities had included three or four other friends. “Stephanie, I’m sorry, but...”
“Are you breaking up with me over the phone? Seriously, John?” He’d heard the catch in her voice. “I never thought you’d treat me like this.” Then the phone had clicked off.
He cringed. It’d be a while before he’d stroll down the couples’ path again.
“John?”
He dragged his attention back to Penn, an interesting mix of vulnerability and steely resolve. She came across as fragile sometimes, but she’d shown backbone at the Apple meetings. He wouldn’t have to worry about her misunderstanding his intentions. He smiled at her. “What?”
A shyness shaded her eyes. “I said, ‘Are you ready for this experience?’“
He rubbed his hands together. “Absolutely. I was born ready. Which way to the roller coasters?”
She shook her head. “I don’t do roller coasters. Remember?”
“Didn’t do.” His smile turned mischievous. “Come on. Let’s go have fun.” He placed his hand at the small of her back and gave her a tiny nudge toward the old part of the park.
Penn pushed down a feeling of panic. That section held the big rides—the roller coaster, and all the rides that made people shriek in terror. All the rides that she’d like to avoid.
But John wasn’t headed to the roller coaster, thank goodness. He joined the not-so-long line for the Tilt-a-Whirl.
“Let’s start with this one. One of my all-time favorites.” He pulled her hand. “Come on. The cars don’t even leave the platform. They just spin. And not too fast either.”
His enthusiasm was endearing.
So she ignored him and considered the ride. The cars spun and rocked and rolled up and down like a carousel. The spins looked fast sometimes. Other times the cars only rocked back and forth. Most of the riders howled with excitement, their heads tipped back and their mouths wide open. Laughing, not screaming.
Maybe she could do it. She’d try at least for the handsome man chuckling at the spinning cars full of people having fun. The line moved ahead, and it was their turn to have fun. The ride attendant gave them a car to themselves. Nice.
John took her hand to help her inside the car. Very nice.
He gave her a pep talk as other cars filled and the seat bar clicked into place. “You’re going to love this.”
The platform creaked and began its slow rotation over the rollers, creating an up and down motion. She stole a glance at John with a this-isn’t-so-bad look.
He grinned.
Picking up speed, the ride pushed the car into a few partial spins. Feeling the centrifugal force pull her to the left then the right, Penn gripped the bar and planted herself in the middle of the seat, willing herself not to sling into him.
A giggle tickled her throat. She bit her lip to stifle it. With the constant barrage of swinging back and forth and up and down, she gave up trying to corral her laughs. A steady stream of her chortles mingled with John’s chuckles.
Suddenly, the car twirled with a quick whipping motion sending her right into the whole length of him. He didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he grinned again, threw his arm around her shoulders, and pulled her tighter against him. “This way we can fight the force together.”
Oh, yeah. She liked the Tilt-a-Whirl.
~*~
Two hours later, she led him back to the picnic tables filled with coolers and grocery bags.
John scratched his jaw. “Our stuff is still here.”
“You doubted?”
“Well, you have to admit, not many places have this leave-your-stuff-wide-open nobody-will-touch-it policy.” He slid the top off a cooler and popped a green grape into his mouth.
Penn accepted a sprig of grapes he offered her. “True. This is a special place. Its tradition and family atmosphere, I guess.”
She relaxed on the bench opposite John and scanned the entrances to the park. “Every other summer the youth group goes to a bigger park with bigger rides but no picnic policy.”
Trudy and her gang emerged from the trees to her right. “Get your chaperone on. Here they come.”
John stopped his investigation of the baskets and coolers to crane his neck toward the still giggling teens. He chuckled. “They remind me of my cousins.”
Andy and Krista stepped into the picnic area, Andy’s arm draped across her shoulders. Krista’s arm hugged his waist. Andy plopped down beside Krista on the opposite side of the picnic table. “We got a great day at the park. Light crowd. Slightly overcast sky. Seventy-five degrees. P
erfect.”
Krista handed him a sandwich and fished another one from the cooler. “Penn, this one has your name on it. You got a special one?”
Penn shrugged. “You know the Lovely Ladies.” She tugged the sandwich from Krista’s fingers, a little embarrassed the ladies circle always singled her out.
Krista let go but eyed Penn with scrunched eyebrows. “No one else has a sandwich with a name on it.”
“Just special, I guess.”
Let it alone, Krista. It’s only a sandwich.
“Hey, you guys,” Andy called to the other tables. “I better see you at church tomorrow giving hugs to the Lovely Ladies. They’re the ‘hands that prepared the food’ for you this morning at five AM.”
Trudy sang out, “‘This morning at five AM’ is redundant.” Giggles from the girls’ table.
Andy snorted, “Good vocab word. Now eat.”
John unwrapped a turkey and cheese. “Lovely Ladies?”
Andy smiled and nodded. “The Lovely Ladies of Love Community—a group of retired women. I don’t think there’s one of ‘em younger than seventy-five. Always makes sure the youth group, or any church group really, is fully stocked with food—all homemade by the way—before leaving on a trip. A terrific bunch.”
“Impressive. I figured their moms made the lunches. You’ve got a great church. Feels like a big, extended family.”
Krista leaned away from the table and arched her back. “Feels so good to sit down. I’ll chaperone the SoakZone this afternoon. Putting my feet up while the kids splash down the water slides sounds like a plan. Hey, Penn.” She peered from across the table. “What kind of sandwich is that anyway?”
Penn popped the corner she’d just torn from her bread into her mouth and shielded rest of the sandwich which her hands. How to get out of this conversation with her dignity intact? The glob of bread and peanut butter expanded on her tongue. Was it twice as big as the original morsel? She rubbed her lapis ring with her thumb.
Andy leaned toward her, taking exaggerated sniffs. “PB and J? Not exactly.” He grimaced.” I don’t think it’s jelly. Can you tell, John?”
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