Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
PENNY
On Fridays, I didn’t have to get to work until seven, but my body never seemed to get the message. I still woke up before sunrise, already needing a nap. I took a shower, dressed for the day, then headed downstairs.
Pika-boo saw me coming from where he stood on the coffee table, tap-dancing in excitement on a stack of Grandma’s Star magazines. “I’ve lost my fucking keys again, dammit, shit, hell!”
I laughed. “Been listening to Grandma again, have we?” I gave him a cracker, then found Grandma sitting on our back porch with Delia, our next-door neighbor. The two of them were sipping coffee while watching the sun come over the horizon.
Delia, in her fifties, was sweet and warm and had a contagious belly laugh.
She’d never met anyone she hadn’t immediately charmed, which probably explained why her house was stuffed to the gills with her husband, their three adult children, those adult children’s significant others, and four grandchildren under the age of five.
Sometimes Delia came over just to hear herself think. With a blissed-out smile, she stood and stretched. “Back to my circus,” she said on a laugh.
When she was gone, I took her place and smiled at Grandma, who looked tired. “Everything okay?”
“Always.”
Gee, and she wondered where I got the island-of-one attitude from…
She passed me her mug and I took a sip.
“You know the Legend of Star Falls,” she said.
Anyone from Star Falls knew the Legend, which said that if you caught sight of the rare phenomenon of three falling stars arching together across the sky, your soul mate would enter your life. As if.
“What about it?”
“Delia said she heard on the news that because of how the planets and stars are aligned this month, there’ll be more shooting stars than usual.
People are going nuts, hoping to see the Legend.
They’re organizing star gazing parties and sleepover camp-outs.
My book club’s one of them. They met last night at midnight.
I couldn’t go since I’m working today, but it’s just as well.
They drank too much wine and fell asleep.
Not a one of them caught the Legend. Rookies .
” She smiled. “But I did some research of my own. Just before dawn is a better time to see anything. I didn’t see it this morning, but it’s just a matter of time. ”
“You’re looking for a soul mate?” I asked in surprise.
“Is that so odd?”
I turned my head and studied her upturned profile. I knew my grandfather hadn’t been a good match for her, just as I also knew she’d dated here and there over the years, but never anything serious.
“Not odd at all,” I said softly. “Everyone deserves love.”
Without taking her eyes off the sky, she smiled and reached out for my hand. “Including you.”
I didn’t know how to explain to her that it wasn’t that I thought I didn’t deserve love. It was that I didn’t trust myself to choose wisely. Big difference.
I was still thinking about that as, on my way to work, I veered off route to hit up my favorite stress relief—Al’s Diner for breakfast. Once upon a time, Al’s had actually been a McDonald’s.
I’d been in middle school when the franchise restaurant had moved to a bigger location.
Al had been a cook for years at McDonald’s, and when they’d vacated the building, he’d decided at sixty-two years young it was time to become his own boss, and he’d opened the diner.
He’d put his decades of skills to excellent use.
The diner was always packed, but he preferred locals and took care of us.
I parked and got in line at the take-out counter.
“Hey, darling,” Al greeted when I reached the register.
He had a huge family, and most of them worked for him.
His wife cooked, as did his eldest son, Austin, who in high school had been voted most likely to win the lottery and lose the ticket, but he made the best pancakes on the planet.
Al’s other five sons served, bussed, or handled the money side of things.
Al leaned on the counter, in no hurry. “Tell me you’re here to finally marry my Austin.”
“No, but I am here to eat his pancakes.”
“Good enough. What can I get for you? The usual?”
A few minutes later, I had my drug of choice—coffee and the pancakes in a bag to go.
Minus the one pancake already in my hand.
I’d narrowed down the fine art of buttering and rolling them, eating each like a burrito while driving.
Taking a big bite, I turned to head out of the diner’s side door when I saw him.
Ryder, sitting at the back booth.
He wore another of those business suits that did funny things to my insides, things I didn’t want to put words to. He had two adorable toddlers in his lap, a boy and a girl, and was simultaneously trying to cut pancakes while keeping the kiddos from drinking the syrup.
“Okay, here you go,” he said, handing each of them a plastic fork. “Remember, forks are for food, not for poking each other.”
The little girl, three years-old tops, giggled so sweetly, staring up at him with big adoring doe eyes. “But Unca Ry Ry, he poked me first.”
“Did not,” the little boy said. The kids were near exact replicas of each other— and Ryder.
“Did so!”
“Did not!”
Ryder wrapped an arm around each toddler and said only one word. “ Eyes .”
The chaos stopped immediately as both turned their faces up to his, meeting his gaze.
“Whoever is the least sticky when you’re done gets a prize,” he said.
This caused a chorus of squeals.
“Disneyland?” the little girl asked with enough exuberance that the entire place looked over.
“Nice try,” Ryder said. “I was thinking a quarter for your piggy bank.”
“Can I has two?” the boy asked.
“Only if you’re double clean.” Ryder tapped his little nose lightly with his finger, smiling down at the kid in a way I’d never seen. He looked…younger somehow, and softer, and my ovaries rolled over and exposed their underbellies.
The kids laughed and threw themselves at him, surely spreading syrup on that pristine suit, not that he seemed to notice.
Because his gaze had landed on me.
I waved my coffee at him in greeting. “Hey,” I managed casually, like I hadn’t been caught staring. Again .
His mouth twitched. “Hey back. We’ve got an extra spot.”
I smiled at the kids. “You look pretty busy.”
“This is Abi and Alex,” he said. “My niece and nephew. Kidlets, this is Penny.”
Abi smiled shyly and buried her face in Ryder’s chest. Alex grinned at me and ate a bite of pancake, syrup dripping down his chin.
Ryder jerked a chin to the available spot in the booth, and I was tempted. Far more than I wanted to be. “I’d love to, thanks, but I’ve got to get to work.”
“I full,” Alex announced to the whole restaurant.
“You had one bite,” Ryder said.
Alex shoved a piece of pancake into his mouth. And then another. When he tried to get a third in, Ryder said, “No.”
The kid eyed the bite in his hand, then stuffed it in Ryder’s mouth instead.
“Yum,” Ryder said, while grimacing over Alex’s head at me, making me laugh.
Abi had a piece of pancake on her fork, syrup dripping down her entire arm as she offered it up to me. “Bite?”
“Oh, I’d love one, thank you, but I’ve got mine right here.” I waved my neatly rolled-up pancake at them.
“Coward,” Ryder murmured.
“Unca Ry Ry, Alex stuck his tongue out at me!”
Ryder looked at Abi. “Are we pretending or lying?”
She just blinked those huge eyes up at him, and he sighed. “Baby, we talked about this. No lying allowed.”
Abi huffed out a breath. “’K.”
Alex tapped Ryder on the shoulder. “Unca Ry Ry, Unca Ry Ry, Unca Ry Ry?—”
“Yes?”
“I didn’t stick my tongue out.”
“I know.”
“Can we go to the park again? The one with the slide that Unca Cal Cal got stuck on ’cause he’s too big?”
Ryder grinned. “That was fun, but it’ll have to be another day. You’ve got preschool.”
“Awwwww.” Abi flung her arms around his neck. “I wuv you, Unca Ry Ry.”
“No, I wuv him,” Alex yelled and threw himself at Ryder as well, the two of them hanging from his neck. Somehow he managed to clean them up, and the table as well, and then stood, a kid in each arm.
He took in my expression and sighed. “This is going to ruin my reputation, isn’t it?”
“In a big way.” I smiled. “ Unca Ry Ry .”
He merely flashed me a grin. “Have a good one.”
I watched him walk away. He teased me about being Wonder Woman, but he was the superhero. A superhero in a sexy suit. “You too.”
The day was long, and I was exhausted by the time I pulled into Grandma’s driveway.
Delia was in her yard watering, her grandchildren racing over the lawn.
One was buck naked and squealing as she ducked under the spray of the hose.
Another was chasing a bunny. Two more played in a puddle, muddy from head to toe, only the whites of their eyes visible.
Delia, not at all bothered by the havoc, merrily waved at me.
Behind her, her freshly painted house looked cheerful and welcoming.
I waved back and walked up our front path.
Our house hadn’t been painted, though it was in desperate need, and yet something about this place never failed to feel like home to me, more than anywhere on earth, its weathered red bricks and pale stone gingerbread trim a slightly faded beacon guiding me back every time.
Heading inside, I took a deep breath of the familiar pine and lavender scent that was all Grandma.
From his perch in the corner, sandwiched between a massive picture window and built-in shelves shoved full of Grandma’s entire life, Pika-boo was bebopping to some tune in his head, but he stopped to make kissy sounds at me. His version of affection.
I returned the kissy sounds, then realized Wyatt sat on the couch, his back to me, headphones on, playing a game on the TV.
“Hey to you too,” I said. “How was your day?”
Nothing.
“Wyatt?”