Chapter 40
Tuck
Something’s different about her.
I can’t pinpoint it, but I know.
Mia’s wedding dress is practically in the bag—yet still, no mention of coming back to the city.
She’s edgy. Restless.
This is it . This is when she tells me, once again, that I’m delusional. That we can’t be what I want. That it won’t work.
A lead weight settles in my gut as I brace for the inevitable. Because something tells me this time…she’s never coming back.
First, she starts with her finances—how the New York lifestyle she’s grown accustomed to just isn’t in the budget right now. Then it’s some ramble about dying dahlias and migrating birds. Seriously? What’s next? Mars in retrograde? A black cat crossing her path? Any excuse to shut us down.
Finally, I can’t take it anymore.
“Pen, can you skip the ecological report on Blue Mountain Lake and just get to the point?”
She takes a breath. Here it comes.
“The point is, I don’t know what I’m doing!” She lets out a small, incredulous laugh. “But I think I need to stay. Maybe I’ll learn to craft jewelry with Arnold. Maybe I’ll get involved with Mom’s charity—even set up a fundraiser in her name. Hell, maybe I’ll go into sustainable wedding dresses. It’s more profitable and focused than my current business.”
She shakes her head in wonder, as if the realization surprises even her.
“The weird thing is…I don’t have a plan. And it feels fine. ” She meets my eyes. “It feels like I don’t need to force anything. Options are revealing themselves, and I think, for once, I just want to take my foot off the gas and enjoy the view.”
I rake a hand through my hair. “Forgive me if I’m not exactly turning cartwheels and cracking the champagne over this. What about the studio?”
“Oh—I’m not overlooking those obligations! With your recommendations in place, I think things will run okay for a couple more weeks. Then, I’ll discuss options with the staff and make the transitions you outlined. But there’s no rush, right?”
I look to the ceiling. No rush .
“But the thing I want to ask is…” She hesitates. “Would you ever consider spending more time here? If I stay a while. Maybe a long while, could you possibly consider—”
I sit forward, hands clenched. What is she going to say ?
“I mean, I know I have no right to ask anything of you, Tuck. You just overhauled my work situation, you were here for me after mom passed, you do so many—”
“Penelope.”
“Sorry. Right. I’m rambling again. But, I don’t know…would you think about spending time back here? With me?” Her eyes flutter to mine and away again, as turbulent as butterfly wings.
“Pen. You know I’d go anywhere to be with you—” I sigh.
“But?” She winces.
“You said yourself—you don’t know what you’re doing. That means you haven’t worked out anything. I know you’ve been busy with the dress, the house…everything. But I at least hoped you considered what you wanted when it comes to us. Meanwhile, you’re happily going on about not knowing what you want like it’s a mantra from some fucking spirituality influencer. So yeah.”
“You don’t understand.” She grows frustrated. “I have thought about us!”
“Got that bit right. I don’t understand. Not even a little bit.”
She slowly exhales. “Then just come. Meet me. Let me convince you in person. No more stupid screens. I’ll show you, okay? I’ll show you exactly what I mean.”
I stare into the black depths of my coffee…because, damn, at this point it might hold more answers than this exchange.
“ Tuck ?”
“Fine. I’ll come—but on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“That you have something solid for me, Pen. Okay? Something clear and considered. Not some wishy- washy inspiration quote about ‘trusting the process ’ or some such shit. I need you to tell me exactly where you see us going. Think you can do that?”
She gnaws her thumbnail, brain working. “Yes! Challenge accepted! I’ll have something solid for you. Absolutely. But—”
“What fucking ‘ but’? ”
“I need a day—maybe two…”
I pinch my nose.
“Tuck! I’m serious. I need to see you, but can you just wait? I’ll message when and where.”
I shake my head. “Yeah, Pen. I’ll keep waiting around till you decide you’re ready. What else have I got to do with my life at this point?”
Her face brightens. “Great!”
It takes another four hours before I hear anything new from her.
Not like I need time to book a flight, pack a bag, rent a car, or anything.
Eventually, a message pings through with a location pin, which is, surprise, surprise , Blue Mountain Lake.
Pen: 11 AM Sunday
That’s it. No explanation. No hint of warmth. Just clipped and to the point. The kind of message that provides nothing to raise my hopes.
As if to drive home the point, the dropped pin she’s sent isn’t even placed properly—it’s floating somewhere in the waters of Blue Mountain Lake.
Still, there’s no pretending. Of course I’m going.
But first, I have to dodge a coordinated bombardment from my parents, who, for some inexplicable reason after I mention I’m coming, are hell-bent on picking me up from the airport.
Dad is on his third text. I patiently explain, again, that it’s a two-hour round trip for him. And it makes more sense for me to get a car.
Tag team time. Mom jumps in: “ We just thought it’d be nice! No harm in a ride, right?”
I re-explain the logistics, but they’re weirdly insistent. Kind of strange, considering I was just in town. But there’s no time to dwell on whatever my parents are up to. Not when I have Pen to figure out.
And it sure doesn’t help that Sunday creeps around agonisingly slowly, with every waiting hour expanding the wedge of anticipation pressing against my ribs.
The countdown to see her is on. At last .
The end result? Anyone’s guess.
My flight is uneventful. Then, having successfully talked my parents down, I make good time on the drive. And despite how weird it is that Pen made a fixed time to meet—11 a.m.—I figure I’ll honor it.
The ball’s in her court. I’ll follow the rules she’s laid out and hope like hell that when we finally see each other, she hands me something I can believe in.
With time to kill, I hook up a call with Brady. It’s his day off—maybe we can grab coffee. And it’s not like a good pep talk could hurt at this stage.
Vivian answers instead, her voice rushed and strangely pitched.
“Tuck?!”
I frown. “Hey, everything alright? I’m heading into town, just checking if you guys are free for—”
“Oh! Uh…we’re actually prepping for a function. A…baby shower.”
I blink. “On a Sunday? Thought you swore Sundays were sacred?”
“Oh, wait! Brady’s just back.” She cuts off abruptly, and the line fills with muffled static.
Then Brady comes on.
“ Tuckie-boy !” he crows brightly.
I shake my head. Maybe he’s on a caffeine high.
“Hey, no stress,” I say quickly. “I’ll call later. Vivian said you’re busy catering, so—”
“Yeah, yeah, got this thing today. Couldn’t say no. A big…birthday bash. Yeah. Sixtieth?”
He pauses. “What, Viv? Oh—yeah, birthday, slash …baby shower. Combined thing.”
“…Right. Well, I was just saying to Vivian I’m headed into town. I guess she told you?”
“Perfect! Gotta fly, Bud. Catch ya!”
The line goes dead.
O-kay . Sure. That wasn’t weird at all.
I drum my fingers against the steering wheel. Turn up the Foo Fighters.
A few more miles roll by. A scattering of businesses appears along the highway as I approach Blue Mountain Lake. Well, I guess I’ve got plenty of time. And now, I really feel like that coffee.
I pull into the next gas station and step out of the car, only to do a double-take.
Is that Pen’s dad ? Gotta be. He’s wearing the same suit pants and patterned shirt he had on at the funeral.
“Sean?”
He turns. For a second, confusion crosses his face. Then, as I walk up to him, it’s replaced with a look of panic. What the hell ? Was our first meeting so bad that he looks ready to bolt?
“Tuck!” He glances around like he’s checking for exits. “Er—what are you doing here?”
“Here? As in the gas station?” I grin. “Getting coffee. Just got back from the city. Heading into town. You?”
“We, er—” He hesitates, then motions to the figure currently head-and-shoulders deep in the ice chest. “Oh, this is my wife, Laurie.”
She pops up, wavy red hair falling in waves around her flushed face. With a quick shake, she dumps a bag of ice into Sean’s arms, adjusts her sparkly emerald dress, and extends a half-frozen hand.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, taking her chilly handshake.
She drills me with bright green eyes—an examination that ends with what could be deemed a nod of approval, like I’ve passed some secret test.
“Heading into town?” She cocks her head. “Don’t you mean out of town ?”
I glance between them. Sean carefully adds the latest ice bag to the pile at his feet, trying to preserve his formal outfit from the moisture.
“…No? Definitely into town,” I answer. “I’m going to Pen’s place…we got some stuff to er, talk about,” I add weakly.
They exchange a look.
Before either of them can respond, a burst of chatter cuts through the air.
“Grab, like, four or five bags—make sure there’s enough. I can’t believe they forgot ice.”
I spin around at the familiar voices. “Finn? Molly ?”
What the hell? The gas station is a real social hub today.
Finn’s in a collared shirt and sharply-cut chinos. Molly’s in a pretty pastel blue dress, hair curled at the ends.
“…Okay, what’s the occasion?” I ask.
They freeze. Swap a glance. Typical suspicious teenagers.
I let it go. “By the way, this is Sean, Penelope’s dad—and his wife, Laurie.”
“Oh?” Molly’s eyes widen. “Wait, did you guys get sent for ice too?”
Laurie blinks rapidly, like she’s trying to send a Morse code distress signal.
“Uh—yes,” she says quickly. “Er…” She glances at Sean. “I mean, I don’t know. What do I mean, Sean?”
Sean gathers the ice bags. “I think you mean we’ll head off to our…event. Great seeing you!” He makes to go, obviously anxious to wrap this up.
“Right, well, since you got the ice, I guess we’re good to go.” Molly shifts awkwardly, glancing at me. “See you…uh…see you there?”
I frown. “Where? I’m headed to Pen’s house.”
Finn’s brows furrow. “Yeah, but—”
Laurie hesitates, wincing at Finn as she grips two ice bags. “I think there’s been some confusion.”
“He’s supposed to go to the location,” Molly mumbles under her breath.
I snap my attention to her. “What location? What’s going on?”
Sean leans toward Laurie, whispering like I’m not standing right there. “What are we supposed to tell him?”
Okay. Something is definitely up.
I pull out my phone. “Look—I’m just gonna call Pen and—”
“ No !” Laurie shouts in panic.
I back away, hands in the air. What the fuck?
Suddenly, another voice chimes in from behind me.
“Molly? Finn? What’s the holdup?” Violet joins us, impatiently jiggling her keys. “Wow, quite a crowd we have here!”
I quickly roll off a second wave of introductions to Sean and Laurie, hoping Violet can cut through the ridiculous haze of confusion they’ve created.
Meanwhile, Finn shoots her a desperate look.
“Er, Violet…Tuck’s like, clueless. He thinks he’s going to Pen’s house .”
“And these guys are pretty insistent that’s not the right thing to do,” I add. “But won’t say why.”
Violet barely hesitates, putting on a beaming smile. “Oh! Well, that’s easy!”
“It is ?” Laurie’s shoulders sag like she’s just been saved.
Everyone looks to Violet expectantly. Except…Violet isn’t speaking.
“…So?” I prompt. “What’s the deal here, Violet?”
She looks at the ring of faces. “Well…it’s the third Sunday of the month, right?”
A few vague murmurs of agreement ripple through the group.
I squint. “Yeah? And?”
Violet lifts her chin, gaining momentum. “So, on the third Sunday of the month…we celebrate!”
I frown. “Celebrate what?”
She waves her arms in a grand gesture. “The joys of living in beautiful Blue Mountain Lake! We are so blessed in this part of the world that we have a tradition—every month, we pick a stunning location and host a get-together!”
I narrow my eyes. “Never heard of this ‘tradition.’”
Violet’s smile tightens. “Sure—well, it’s a new tradition. And this month…Penelope is hosting!”
I let that sink in. “Pen’s hosting a social event?”
“Absolutely!” Violet confirms. “And—” She checks her watch. “We’re all running extremely late, so why don’t we get going? Tuck ?”
I rub my jaw. “Let me get this straight. There’s a community event. That Pen’s hosting. Out of town. Today. At eleven ?”
“That’s right!” Violet nods enthusiastically.
The others follow suit, like some kind of synchronized support team.
I glance around at the well-dressed crowd. “And everyone’s…dressed up for it?” I look down at my casual flight attire. “I’ve got luggage in the car—should I change?”
“Yes! Absolutely!” Violet claps her hands.
A visible wave of relief washes over the group, like they can’t believe I’m finally onboard. Seriously, why didn’t they just lead with this?
Sean and Laurie leave a trail of melting ice as they take off in one direction, while I head back toward my rental with Violet, Finn, and Molly.
“I’ll follow you, then?” I ask, popping the trunk and unzipping my bag.
Violet considers. “You know…it’s a bit off-road.” She tilts her head. “Not sure your rental insurance covers unsealed surfaces. Why don’t you just ride with us?”
Before I can argue, she’s peering over my shoulder.
“Oh, the cream shirt. Perfect. Are those linen pants?”
I blink. “Uh…yeah?”
“Great. Take those. Go stand over there.” She points to the far side of my vehicle. “Get changed while I pull the car around.” She checks her watch again.
Minutes later, I’m buckled into the passenger seat as Violet swings onto the highway. Finn’s conducting some coded conversation on his phone while Molly hands around a bag of Cheezels and fusses with her hair.
But my confusion has only partially lifted. I thought I was meeting with Pen alone . To work out our future. Is this her way of deflecting and distracting yet again ? Or some inspired effort to convince me of the beauty and livability of Blue Mountain Lake?
The thing is, I don’t need convincing. This place was always home. It was Pen who wanted out, who fought tooth and nail to escape small-town life.
And now, she’s hosting some kind of community event?
I pull out my phone, scrolling back to that dropped pin she sent me. The one that seemed haphazardly placed in the middle of the lake. I zoom in, tracing the map back to solid land—until a name catches my eye.
“So, Pen chose the location?” I ask Violet.
“That’s right,” she replies smoothly.
“And where, exactly, is this…event?”
Violet flicks me a look. “Eagle’s Cliff. Or thereabouts.”
Then, she signals as the exit appears ahead.
“Why, does it mean something to you?” she adds lightly.
I slowly nod, my chest constricting.
Mean something ? It’s the place I reminded Pen about, the ledge where we stood side by side, hand in hand, hearts pounding before we took that leap. A moment crystallized in my mind forever.
Yeah, it fucking means something.
So, what the hell is Pen playing at now?