Daylight (Merrymount #2)

Prologue Red

“Are you a mom?”

The question shoots through me like an arrow. My back stiffens like the sharp tip was just lodged into it, and my throat starts to feel dry. She’s five years old, just a kid. She has no idea being a mom is the only thing in life I’ve ever dreamed about and wanted and hoped for.

The one thing in life I’ll probably never be.

I muster up a smile so Penelope doesn’t think she said anything wrong. Because she didn’t. “No, baby girl. It’s just me.”

Penelope takes another bite of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich I made for her and tilts her head to the side in thought as she chews. She swallows before throwing another question out of left field. “Do you want to be a mom?”

Is it warm in here? Maybe I need to adjust the thermostat.

“I did, once upon a time.”

“But not anymore?” she asks.

“Well, no.” I pause. How the hell do I explain the complexities of a failed marriage and a steaming pile of self esteem mixed with abandonment issues to this child? “I mean—Yeah. Yes. I would love to be a mom. But it’s not always so easy.”

“Yeah…” She sighs, a heavy sigh making her sound well beyond her five years of life. “Daddy says the same thing.”

“What do you mean?” I’m genuinely curious.

Miller, Penelope’s dad, has been a mystery around here for a while now, a very cute mystery.

But he likes to keep to himself. I only ever see him out and about with his daughter who’s now sitting in front of me with absolutely zero filter.

Call me an opportunist, but I’m not passing this up.

“I don’t have one, a mom,” she clarifies. “Daddy says it’s complica-cated. He says she’d loooove to be a mom, but it’s not always so easy. Just like you said.” The way she gestures with her hands and imitates his voice is the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.

“He’s not wrong. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck. Shit. I mean—Crap. Sorry.” I sheepishly turn to her, and that sad look on her face melts away just as quickly as it showed up.

“I’m allowed to say shit, but only at home. That’s the rule.” Penelope looks both ways making sure the coast is clear. “So, don’t tell Daddy, okay?”

I hold out my pinky, and she links hers with mine. We shake once. “My lips are sealed, tiny human.”

She giggles at the nickname. “It’s funny when you call me that. Does everyone call you Red because of your hair?”

Instinctively, I tuck the front of my hair behind my ear. “Yes, ma’am.”

“What’s your real name?”

“Gwen. Or Gwendolyn. But no one really has ever called me those. It’s always been just Red.”

“Gwendolyn sounds like a princess name!” she exclaims.

“Funny, I think the same thing about Penelope!” I poke the tip of her nose, and she laughs.

Moving over to the butcher’s block counter we have here in the back of the coffee shop, I start aimlessly rearranging trays of biscuits and scones. Penelope finishes up her sandwich, humming along to the music playing on the surround sound.

I look up at the ceiling, pointlessly trying to will my ears to pick up any bits of the conversation happening in the upstairs apartment between Miller, Margot (my employee turned best friend), and Margot’s mom, Melanie.

Whatever’s going down, it’s no place for an innocent kid. So, I’m down here babysitting while trying to make sure everything is good and ready to go for the Blueberry Festival tomorrow. I’m distracting myself once again.

God damn it. You know, I don’t even really give a shit about the festival. My parents made it this huge deal my whole life, and the second they deemed it safe to hightail it out of town, they did and never looked back.

I’m happy for them. I really am. They did everything right.

They raised me in a small, safe town. They built a solid business from the ground up to hand over to me when I was ready.

They supported me with tight lipped smiles when I told them I was marrying my high school boyfriend and held me when I eventually got the sense to leave him. On paper, it’s all dandy and perfect.

But now they’re gone, retired and living full time on a cruise ship that sails around the Bahamas. And I’m here alone, not even sure if I really care about all of this. This being my whole life and how it’s played out.

I thought I’d be happy by now. I thought I’d be married with two or three kids running around a fenced in yard.

Maybe we’d have a dog or a cat. I’d greet my husband at the door when he got home from work.

We’d get to whisper and giggle together while decorating and wrapping gifts for holidays and birthdays after the kids went to bed.

I wanted a simple, happy life.

And I guess it is simple. It’s just not so happy.

I look down, and Penelope is standing beside me. Damn, those tiny human feet and their cat-like quietness. “Shit. You scared the hell out of me.”

“You were staring at the wall for a while.”

“I was?”

“I called your name three times.”

I shake my head. “Ugh, sorry kid. Today’s been kind of weird.”

“No. The grown ups are acting weird.”

“You know, you got a point, P. Come on, let’s go find us something to do out front.”

I let her walk ahead of me, my hand on her back guiding her out onto the coffee shop’s floor.

I’m guessing it’s one of her friends or classmates sitting over at the kid’s table, because she darts over to greet him.

He’s just as excited to see her, both of them jumping up and down, talking over each other. It’s adorable as hell.

It’s so much easier to make friends and do life when you’re five. I sigh to no one but myself and find George manning the counter.

“Hey G, you’re good to go. Thanks for the help.” I pat him on the back and take the towel he was using to clean the counter from his hands.

George hesitates and looks around like he’s about to ask if there’s anything else he can do to help. He’s fishing for a story, and I don’t have time for it today. I stop him before the words leave his mouth. “There’s nothing to stick around for. I’m not letting anyone get a show today.”

I won’t even pretend to know what kind of drama is unfolding upstairs, but I’ll make damn sure it’s not a spectacle for everyone in town to gawk over. Margot deserves better than that.

George throws his hands up in surrender. “You didn’t even hear what I was gonna say.”

“Didn’t need to, it was written on your face. I mean it. I appreciate the help but get out.”

His shoulders fall, and he claps one of my hands with his before making his way to the front. “Will you text me later?”

“I’ll think about it.”

I make myself busy with customers and organizing while keeping one eye on Penelope at all times.

Margot comes down after about an hour, her face white, stricken with shock.

I don’t ask questions. I just hug her as tight as I can and tell her I’ll see her in the morning.

She’s with Sawyer, I know she’s in good hands with him.

I watch another hour pass by on the clock, wondering when it’s appropriate to head upstairs and check on Miller and Melanie. After the last few stragglers of customers have left, I flip the open sign to closed.

Just as I’m about to give in to the little voice in my head telling me to meddle, I hear footsteps making their way downstairs. I keep running my hand down Penelope’s hair as she lays across me in a booth. She dozed off a little bit ago, and it’s been really nice to just sit here with her.

Miller and Melanie make their way over to the booth, faces mirroring Margot’s from earlier, and I offer them a soft smile. “Hey,” I say quietly to not wake Penelope.

“She fell asleep?” Miller slides into the booth across from us, Melanie scooching in next to him.

“Only about a half an hour ago,” I tell him.

“Thanks for all of this, Red. Seriously. I’m sorry I caused so many issues today.”

Melanie chimes in before I can. “I told you, no more apologizing. None of this is your fault.”

“She’s right. Besides, I got the good end of the deal. Hanging with this one is a breeze.” I motion to Penelope. “She’s a great kid.”

Miller looks to his daughter with so much pure, unconditional love in his eyes that I feel like the wind just got knocked out of me. “She’s my whole world.” He shifts his focus to me. “Thank you,” he whispers.

I nod my head silently, unsure of what else to do.

Melanie is the first to fill the awkward silence. “Well, tomorrow should be fun.”

I can’t help it, I bark out a laugh, causing Penelope to stir. I keep my hand running through her hair and shush her so she doesn’t fully wake.

“So, do either of you care to fill me in?”

They both open their mouths and try to talk over each other, then stop. They start up again at the same time, and I hold a hand up. “Miller, spill now.”

It all comes out like word vomit. “Margot and I share a dad. He told Melanie when he left them. I found out a couple years ago. Margot found out today.”

My mouth hangs open. I’m pretty sure my jaw is dislocated from my skull. What the actual fuck is going on?

“Woah,” I manage to say.

“Everyone is just trying their best. We’re going to be just fine. More than fine, actually,” Melanie says. She puts her arm around Miller’s shoulder and squeezes once. “I’m gonna head to the back to check my phone.”

Once she’s out of sight, the awkward silence returns.

Holy shit. This feels like the plot of a CW show from when I was in high school. I can’t even imagine how Margot feels right now. Or Miller. Or Melanie. Shit.

“She’ll fall asleep anywhere.” Miller’s looking down at Penelope, watching her back rise and fall with each breath in a perfect rhythm.

The arrow I felt earlier finds its mark again. I hate that I’m immediately jealous instead of just blindly happy for them. I hate that I feel like I’ll be stuck watching people live out their lives, dreams that I thought would come true for me, from the sidelines forever.

I try to gently readjust and move so I can attempt to pass Penelope off to Miller without waking her, but those pretty, green eyes flutter open and look up at me. She smiles, and when she turns her head slightly to see her dad across the booth, those eyes widen as she says sleepily, “Daddy!”

He scoots out of the booth and opens his arms for her to jump into them.

She cozies up with her arms wrapped around his neck, tucking her head into the crook of it, behind the curtain of his long curls that fall just above his shoulder.

Their hair has the exact same color and wave, so much so that you’re unable to tell where Miller’s ends and Penelope’s begins.

The world feels like it stops when I see the two of them together.

Suddenly Penelope’s head pops up, tiredness from just a few seconds ago vanishing. She twists her neck so she’s facing me, a smile beaming on her face like a lightbulb just went off above her head. “Red…”

“Miss Red,” Miller corrects.

Penelope rolls her eyes, the epitome of five year old sass. “Miss Red. I know you said it’s not always so easy. About being a mom. But I think you’d be a good one.”

I freeze. I feel my cheeks flame. All of the air just got sucked out of me. And I watch Miller’s face go from confusion, to shock, to mortification in under two seconds when he sees how much one little comment affects me.

Penelope does not see the two adults in front of her floundering for something to say to get themselves out of this uncomfortable shit-show and continues, “I’d be the happiest ever if you were my mom!

Daddy says you’re really pretty so he must like you too even though he never says much when we’re here! He’s just shy!”

And with this, Miller throws his hand over Penelope’s mouth. I shimmy out of the booth and stand, prepared to make a beeline for the back, the only safe space in this entire Godforsaken coffee shop, apparently.

Miller finds his voice again. “Penelope, you can’t just say that kind of stuff to people we don’t know. We’ve talked about this. Boundaries, babe.”

She’s not having it. “We do know Red. She hung out with me all afternoon!”

“Yes. And I appreciate that but—” He shakes his head and tucks her head back into his neck with his hand. He takes a deep breath. “We’ll talk about it more when we get home, okay? Can you please say goodnight to Miss Red?”

She lifts her head again and a frustrated sigh leaves her mouth. “Goodnight, Miss Red,” she grumbles and tucks her head back into him.

Miller mouths, “God, I’m so sorry.”

I shake my head at him, he has enough on his plate to deal with. Before I can change my mind, I place my hand on Penelope’s back and rub two small circles. “See ya later, tiny human. I had a blast hanging out with you today.”

We both say our quick goodbyes, and I walk them to the front door, locking it behind them, and watch as they walk to their car.

I’m too broken, too damaged, too much to let myself get lost in some fantasy with the two of them.

They deserve easy. They deserve more than some messed up, mouthy, truckload of baggage redhead taking up space in their lives.

I need to distance myself hard from any feeling of hope or want involving Miller and Penelope Caswell.