16. Ward
16
Ward
W ard surprised his parents by being awake and ready to not only eat breakfast with them, but also to attend church with them Sunday morning. It felt good to see the delight on his mother’s face, and his father’s gruff, “Good morning, son,” was more than enough confirmation that he’d made the right decision.
They were invited to have Sunday dinner with a family from across town, and although Ward was hoping to spend more time with Penny that afternoon, in Autumn Lake, as in so many small towns, Sunday dinner was all about family. He couldn’t just abandon his parents to go hang out with the girl next door.
Penny, it turned out, had plans anyway. She and Hazel were heading to a popular German restaurant in Evansville where they were going to meet up with a few of Hazel’s friends. They got together once a month for Reuben sandwiches and potato cakes, the Sunday special.
It had been a long time since Ward had been to the Bavarian House, and if Penny came back talking about how much she liked it, he’d put that on his growing list of places to experience with her while they were both in town.
That evening, he texted her and asked if she’d like to have dinner on the dock on Monday night. It took her more than an hour to respond, and when she did, it was with a simple, three-word answer. We’d love to.
So Hazel would be there, too. He supposed he’d better invite his parent to join them as well. Evidently, Miss Penny hadn’t picked up on his picnic-under-the-stars-just-the-two-of-us vibes.
Or had she picked up on them and was putting out you’re-too-much-for-me-to-handle-right-now vibes?
He’d have to wait until tomorrow to find out. Texts were a terrible way to send nuanced messages, and as enemies becoming friends, there were a lot of nuances to potentially misread.
Now he just had to figure out what to serve her. “Them,” he corrected himself.
And whether to have Hazel and Penny over at their place, or to take his folks over to Hazel’s dock. What table should he use? And now with so many people attending, did he need to have better lighting? Should he set up lanterns along the dock?
How did this suddenly get so complicated? “I just wanted to sit on a blanket and eat sandwiches and complain about the lights of Carpe Diem blocking out the stars,” he grumbled.
Monday ended up being far busier than he’d imagined, and at the last minute, he called home. “Hey, Mom. I’m still stuck at this job over at Jerry’s Pontoons. I need a huge favor.”
“Of course, honey. What can I do for you?”
An hour later, Ward pulled the van into the driveway and under the carport to get out of the light, but steady rain that had started falling about an hour ago. He should have expected this, he chided himself, since the weatherman had said there wasn’t a chance of it coming before the weekend.
It had been over ninety degrees that afternoon, and he was hot and grimy, and he still had to go back the next morning to finish up. Jerry had called time on him; the man’s wife had all but threatened to pack up the hot meal she’d made him and give it to the neighbors if he didn’t get his patootie home to eat with her. Her word, not Jerry’s, but Jerry hadn’t been shy about sharing.
And now it was raining. So, no dinner on the dock. Penny would understand. Maybe they could try again tomorrow. Maybe he’d be in a better mood then, too.
Right now, all Ward wanted was a shower, a fortifying meal, and a few hours during which he didn’t have to worry about being anything or anyone but himself.
He climbed out of the van and reached back in to grab his wallet and phone from the console. When he turned around, his eyes landed on Hazel’s house across the inlet, and on the two women he could make out, even through the rain, sitting on the front porch. They were both waving at him, and he couldn’t help smiling.
It might have been the first genuine smile he’d put out all day.
“That’s about how I feel when I come home at the end of the day.” His father stood under the cover of the side porch, his eyes on Ward. He lifted a hand and circled his own face with a finger. “Your face says it all.”
“Really, Dad? You, too?” Ward shook his head. He sounded like a broken record these days, but it was starting to feel like the whole town was in cahoots with the whole Ward and Penny thing these days.
“Me, too, what?” his dad asked, feigning ignorance. “I know that look, son. It’s been a rough day; I get it. There’s no place like home to wash away the cares of the day and put things back in their rightful places.”
Maybe Ward was feeling a little too defensive. His dad had never really been the meddling type before. “Yeah, you’re right. I need a shower something fierce.”
Ted winked at Ward.
He winked.
Ted St. James never winked.
“Good plan, son. I hear Miss Hazel and Miss Penny are joining us for supper this evening.”
Inside, there was no evidence that company was coming. The vintage Dutch oven burbled away on the stove with what he assumed was his mom’s pot roast stew by the mouthwatering aroma that filled the house, and the table was set for three. His mother was taking her usual rest before the meal, so he headed to his own bedroom at the other end of the house to clean up, figuring he’d better be prepared for anything.
The shower he took did wonders for his body and mind. By the time he was dressed, he felt much more prepared to be sociable. “Hey, Mom,” he said, coming into the kitchen where she was putting cling wrap over a plate of cookies. “It smells great in here. What can I do to help?” It was obvious the meal was just going to be the three of them; Dad must have misunderstood. Ward would call Penny later that evening to apologize for having to take a rain check—literally—and reschedule for another evening.
“Not a thing.” Rachel tipped her head in the general direction of the guesthouse. “Hazel should be here any minute to join us.” When she saw him eye the table, she shot a funny look at his father who was filling the three glasses with iced tea. “Your father didn’t tell you, did he?”
Ward frowned. “I must not have understood.” He wasn’t going to throw his dad under the bus; at least, not until he knew who was driving the thing.
“Hazel is joining your father and me, and you’re heading next door to have your picnic with Penny on the front porch. It’s not raining anymore, but it’s still wet and slippery out on the dock, so she thought it would be best. Besides, you know how inaccurate the forecast can be. It might rain again, anyway.” She held out the plate of cookies for him to take. “Here you go.”
He looked from her to the cookies and back again. “I think I missed something. I invited Penny to have dinner with me. Not the other way around.” Had she cooked again? The whole point was to take his turn, to cook for her. Or, as was his backup plan, to have his mother cook for her.
“You’re going to be late. You’re already late. Get a move on.”
“Mom.”
Rachel leaned a hip against the counter and crossed her arms, making a long-suffering face at him. “Honey, do you know the saying, ‘Pennies from heaven?’”
Ward closed his eyes so she wouldn’t see them roll. Really? Pennies from heaven? Could it get any cheesier? “Of course, I do.”
“Do you know what it means?”
“I do.” He opened his eyes to the smug look on her face.
“Good. Then take that plate of cookies next door and be grateful for your Penny from Heaven. She’s a truly unexpected gift, isn’t she?”
“She’s not my Penny.” He frowned, returning her stern gaze, then he eyed his father, too. “Guys, you all need to ease off a little. Penny and I are just becoming friends. And believe me when I say that it’s been kinda hard won. I would like to not lose ground.”
“If she’s your friend, Ward, then she’s your Penny,” Mom reasoned, a little irrationally. “Maybe only for this evening. Maybe only for this summer. But why wouldn’t we want you to spend time with such a lovely young lady? You spend far too much time here at home at the end of the day, sitting outside on that chair, making your phone calls or staring morosely at that monstrosity across the water.” She made a shooing motion with her hands. “Go. Do something fun with someone your age. You’re allowed to have fun, you know, even when you’re babysitting your parents.”
Ward flinched at her words. “I’m not babysitting you,” he retorted, trying to keep the impatience out of his voice. “I’m helping you.”
“You’re kind of hovering, too.” Rachel reached over and took Ted’s hand, tugging her husband over to stand beside her. “You learned from a master hoverer, and you both have the best motives, so I’m not complaining. But I am giving you, Ward, permission to fly free for the night. I have Teddy here. He’ll take good care of me.”
“And we’ll have Hazel here, too,” his father chimed in, apparently not taking her remarks as anything derogatory about him. “She’ll take good care of both of us. That’s what she does. She’s a nurturer, right, hon?”
Rachel nodded and smiled expectantly at Ward. But he just stood there, cookies held in front of him, looking back and forth between his parents. Finally, he said lamely, “She wasn’t supposed to cook tonight.”
“She didn’t cook. Now, does that make you feel better?” When he still didn’t move, his mother clapped her hands, startling him a little. “Go!”
His father chuckled. “Better hoof it, boy. Your mother means business when she claps like that.”
Then he winked again.
Ward spun on his heel and left the house, but not so quickly that he missed his mother’s parting words, taken—not quite accurately—out of Louis Prima’s ‘Pennies from Heaven’ song. “Turn your umbrella up, up, upside down!”
He passed Hazel coming down the lane with her three dogs in tow. She wouldn’t take them into his parents’ house with her, but they’d make themselves comfortable on the front porch and wait to walk home with her at the end of the evening.
“Did you leave any cookies for me?” she asked, eyeing the plate he held.
“You, Ms. Poleman, are going to have to ask your partner in crime. I have apparently become a pawn in whatever game this is.”
“Crime?” Hazel chortled. “Crimes of passion, maybe.”
Ward had no words. He turned and continued on, shaking his head at the outburst of laughter behind him.
It did, indeed, start raining again not even an hour later, but the temperature had dropped considerably with the condensation, so eating outside under the cover of the porch was the perfect compromise. Fortunately, he’d had the foresight to turn his parents’ porch light on as he left, so they’d know when the crazy old people across the way were wrapping up their shenanigans.
Penny had, indeed, done no cooking. Between them on the table was an old-fashioned soup tureen in which was a generous portion of his mother’s stew. Penny had also pulled a tray of open-faced grilled cheese sandwiches from under the broiler. “Hazel made these for us while I was in the shower. And your dad dropped off the stew right before you got home. I didn’t get to cook a single thing tonight.” She pointed at the plate of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies he’d brought. “Not even dessert. Oh. Don’t let me forget. There’s yummy salted caramel ice cream in the freezer that will go perfectly with those.”
Over their meal, Ward regaled her with a wryly humorous version of the happenings of his day. By the time he wrapped it up with his father’s wink, Penny was groaning and giggling simultaneously. “I think we may have to fake an engagement at this point. Otherwise, our families are going to die of broken hearts.”
He grinned at her slip of the tongue. Apparently, she hadn’t realized she’d called Hazel family. “What diamond cut do you prefer, Miss Penelope Anderson? I mean, you’re going to need a ring if we’re going to make it official.”
“Hmmm.” She tapped her chin with her finger, making a show of pondering her options. “I guess I don’t really mind what shape it is as long as it’s large and imposing.” She flung her arms wide. “Like I am.”
He pretended to write down her preferences on his napkin. “Big and bold. Check.”
She picked up her tartine—Penny insisted on calling the cheese sandwiches that—which she had generously slathered with some of his mother’s tomato jam. But instead of taking a bite, she just held it, almost like a prop. “Here’s something about me that you probably don’t know. It’s a personal vexation.”
“A personal vexation? What is that, Miss Teacher?”
“A pet peeve. A grievance. Complaint. You know.”
“Ah. I see.”
That’s when she took a bite. And chewed. And chewed. And chewed.
When he was just about to ask if she needed a spit bucket, she swallowed, took a drink, then grinned over at him. “Sorry for keeping you waiting. I just wanted to build a little suspense since it’s such a dumb thing.”
“I can only imagine.”
She took a deep breath in, held it, her cheeks puffed out like a blowfish, then let it out along with the words, “I’m short.”
Ward stared at her, waiting for more. When none was forthcoming, when she just looked at him like she’d dropped a bomb and was waiting for his reaction, he figured he’d better say something. “You’re… petite,” he countered. “Not short. Dainty. Cute.”
“Nooooo,” Penny wailed, dropping the remainder of her sandwich on her plate in despair. “Cute? Come on! That’s like a death knell for single women. Probably for single guys, too. It’s almost—” She broke off, shook her finger at him, then said, “No, it is. ‘Cute’ is just as bad as ‘nice.’” She made air quotes with her fingers. “And I can’t believe you just said that about me.”
Ward gave her a bemused look. “I take it being cute is your personal vexation?”
“No.” She balled up her napkin and threw it at him. He caught it before it landed in his soup. “My personal vexation is being short. And something that makes me want to go jump in the lake—” She broke off and snickered. “My mom used to say that all the time to me, especially when I was a kid. ‘Go jump in the lake.’” Her smile went soft and sweet, and he let her reminisce. “I was always underfoot. Kinda clingy. I’m the one who hovered in our relationship. I had to know exactly where she was, what she was doing, who she was with at all times. That’s probably what stunted my growth. Worry for my mother.” She made a sad little snort. “Look where that got me.”
“I’m sorry, Penny.”
“No, no, no.” She held up both hands like she was trying to hold back the tide. “We were talking about how cute I am. Let’s go back to that.” She propped her elbows on the table, her chin in her cupped hands, and blinked her big green eyes at him.
Ward reached over and booped her on the nose. “Cute as a button, little lady. There’s no two ways about it.”
“And something that makes me want to go jump in the lake,” she repeated, narrowing her eyes at him. “Is when people call me things like ‘little lady’ or ‘pixie’ or—or—I don’t know. Small names.”
“How about Thumbelina?” He held up one of his thumbs, closed one eye, and acted like he was gauging her size by it. Fortunately, even with one eye closed, he saw her hand coming in time to jerk his back before she smacked it out of the air. “Munchkin?”
She put both hands flat on the table and glared at him.
“Hobbit? I have a thing for hairy feet, you know.”
“I’m warning you, Ward St. James.” She started to push up out of her seat like she was going to launch herself at him.
Heat shot up his neck at the thought, and he did his best to quell the rush of desire in his gut. “I know. Smurf. I mean, Smurfette.”
Penny plopped back into her chair. “Smurfette.” She said the name as though it brought shame to Smurfs everywhere. “Now that girl has a story.”
Ward chuckled. “Really? And you know it?”
“You don’t?” she shot back, bobbing her head like a drama queen.
“Actually, I don’t,” he countered. “And I’m not ashamed to admit that, by the way.”
Penny smirked. “You know, I probably would have called you ‘cute’ and ‘nice’ if you actually knew anything at all about the Smurfs.”
“Whew.” Ward swiped the back of his hand across his forehead. “Dodged that bullet. But now I’m curious. What’s her story? And why do you know it? Are you a Smurf fan?” He wiggled his fingers at her in a tell-me-more gesture. “I feel like I’m getting to know some very deep and personal things about you right now.”
“I’m a teacher. I know things, okay? It’s our superpower.”
“Do tell.”
“Okay.” She lifted both hands in the air in front of her as though setting the stage between them. “So there’s this evil wizard who hates happiness.”
“As all evil wizards do.” Ward sat back, thoroughly enjoying the easy banter between them. He used to have conversations like this with Rochelle; he was sure. Except that he couldn’t recall when it had ever been this… well, this easy.
“Exactly. And the Smurfs are all happy, right? They’re all cute and nice guys, by the way, and they get along and work well together.”
“As all cute, nice guys do.” He crossed his arms over his chest and settled back into his seat to listen as she explained Smurf lore to him.
“Here’s the thing that chaps my hide.” She let out a little ‘grrr’ for emphasis.
“You’re a cowboy now?”
Penny rolled her eyes. “There’s a cowboy inside all of us, Ward St. James. Keep up.” She waved one hand around between them like she was trying to get him to hurry along. “So the thing that chaps my cowboy hide is that when Papa Smurf changed her from bad to good, the only thing that really changed about her was her appearance. She lost her cute, choppy black hair and got those long golden waves. Her comfy white peasant bootie slipper things got traded in for high heels. Yes, high heels in the woods. Have you ever walked on the grass in high heels, Ward?”
“I can’t say that I have.” He shook his head slowly. She didn’t expound, but he thought he could figure it out.
She started ticking things off her fingers. “Her nose got smaller. Her eyes got bigger. Her lashes got longer. Her voice got higher. And instead of standing casually like all the guys, she started standing like this.” Penny got to her feet and struck a pose that looked like something straight out of a Betty Boop cartoon.
“Wow.” Ward’s eyebrows rose with appreciation. “Look how fired up you are over the little blue people.”
“Yeah, well, this is the kind of grooming my second graders are getting, Ward.” She pronounced the ‘d’ at the end of his name as “duh,” and he bit his bottom lip to keep from busting up. He wasn’t so sure she was really joking around anymore, but she was definitely, ridiculously, endearingly, sparklingly cute.
What had Alex called her? A ball of fire, indeed.
“You know, Miss Penny. I think I’m going to go grab that ice cream you mentioned. Maybe cool off a little?”
Penny, still standing, propped her hands on her hips. “Are you mocking me?”
“Oh. You mean, because I used the word ‘little’ just now?” He slid his chair back and stood, too, grinning like an idiot. He suddenly knew how Jimbo felt looking at Delilah. He could follow this girl around all day, he thought.
She circled the table and shook her fist up at him, her eyes twinkling playfully. “Why I oughta…”
Ward wrapped his fingers loosely around her wrist, and Penny’s words trailed off, her eyes going wide. “You oughta what?”
Suddenly, all around them, the world went quiet. The rain still came down, the wind still blew across the water, and the trees still swayed, swishing their branches to and fro out under the murky sky. But Ward could hear nothing except the shallow breaths Penny took, the pounding of his pulse thudding inside his skull, and Louis Prima singing “Pennies from Heaven” somewhere in the distance. At least it wasn’t his mother’s voice.
Penny’s fist slowly unfurled as she began to pull free of his loose hold, but instead of stepping back like he thought she would, she turned her hand and laced her fingers with his. “Ward.” His name came out of her like a sweet sigh, and he swallowed hard. “I’m—this…” She squeezed his hand, hard, her fingers trembling noticeably. “We should—” She broke off again, blushing furiously. “I mean, we shouldn’t.”
Or maybe we should, he wanted to argue, but he held his tongue.
He did not want to scare her. He did not want to offend her. He did not want to lose her.
He very much wanted her. Period.