Chapter 24 Penny
Chapter 24
Penny
A dull morning rain taps at the window as Penny buries her head under the covers. Her body’s tired; she didn’t sleep. She’s upset—at Leo, at her outburst at the table—and she thinks she may have reached her boiling point. Being around Leo is breaking her in ways she doesn’t want to admit, and his nearness on the other side of the wall doesn’t help.
She reaches for the cell phone beside the bed and sees three notifications from her kids. Nothing from Leo. She half expected teary apologies clogging up her messages, but there are none, not a single missed call.
She quickly checks in on the girls and hops out of bed.
The rain echoes her mood, and she embraces the idea of wrapping herself in a blanket and curling up by the fire. Only the fantasy comes to a screeching halt because of Leo.
Throwing on her favorite sweatshirt and sweatpants, she pulls her hair back into a long ponytail and drops a baseball cap on her head. And even though she doesn’t need sunglasses on this sunless day, she grabs her Ray-Bans to hide the truth spilling from her eyes.
Stepping into the kitchen, Penny sees Rosalie standing over a limp Cassidy, feeding her salted crackers, a can of ginger ale nearby. She dashes toward the coffee when Leo descends the stairs. His eyes are also puffy from what’s likely lack of sleep. She quickly turns away because she can’t bear to see him.
“Good morning, ladies.”
“Speak for yourself,” Cassidy mumbles.
Penny pours cream into her mug as Leo watches.
“I thought you take your coffee black.”
She stares at the cloud that forms in the center of the dark liquid, savoring that first sip. “I guess things change, Leo.” And she moves past him toward the array of colorful breakfast foods arranged on the table.
“Rainy days call for blankets and a warm fire,” Leo says as Penny takes the seat farthest from him.
Sienna and Adam step down into the room. Adam’s laughing. “Another rainy day at the inn.” He winks at Sienna.
“Don’t get any ideas,” she says.
“Please don’t mention alcohol.” Cassidy picks her head up, her voice gravelly.
“That bad?” Sienna asks.
Rosalie answers, “The usual.”
Penny catches the sarcasm.
Jean-Paul enters with a head of damp hair, Renée not far behind.
“Lucy’s in a lot of pain,” she says. “We’re going to bring breakfast to their room.”
“Breakfast in bed sounds like the perfect morning,” Leo chimes.
Her mind silences him, but her body argues. It doesn’t make a bit of sense. She’s mastered avoiding him, perfecting the wall between them. She filed for divorce! But something about his eyes, the way he pleaded with her yesterday, weakens her. The bedhead. His smell. She needs him to disappear, and she glares at him behind her glasses before pushing her plate of eggs and fresh brioche away. Moments ago, she was famished.
Jean-Paul scribbles notes on a piece of paper, and Rosalie rises to join him, peering over his shoulder with interest. Penny notices he’s a lefty, because she’s also a lefty, and Rosalie figures it out, because she’s soon mentioning how she’s a southpaw too. The revelation is the perfect distraction—anything to get off the subject of snuggling under the covers and sharing room service with Leo. Cassidy pats the seat beside her for Rosalie to come back, but Penny doesn’t have the heart to tell her that her daughter is far more interested in cooking than nursing her hangover.
“Can I help with the menu for tonight?” Rosalie asks Jean-Paul.
Penny appraises the mother-daughter dynamic. The young girl’s indifference is hard to miss. On one hand, she wants to be anywhere but in Cassidy’s presence, and on the other, she tends to her every need like a parent might a child. Mothering a daughter is tricky. She knows. She has three. How could Cassidy be so blind to what’s happening?
She can’t worry about the strange dynamic between those two. She has enough problems of her own. Maybe she should talk to that Lucy woman. Now that she’s laid up, perhaps she wouldn’t mind giving her some advice.
A thunderous roar claps through the room, clanking the china in the nearby cabinets and flickering the lights. Sienna lets out a yelp. It’s cute.
“I love days like this,” Penny says.
“Not me,” Sienna says.
Penny proceeds to describe one of her favorite childhood memories: playing cards and board games with her brother by flashlight. “I loved the simplicity of those days. The innocence.”
“There was nothing innocent about last year’s rainstorm,” Adam says with a laugh.
“You have us intrigued,” Leo says. “You keep talking about last year. Who’s going to spill?”
“It was nothing,” Sienna says, popping a lemon raspberry scone into her mouth. “He loves to repeat himself. The strip poker. He thinks that by repeating himself it’ll spark a do-over, and that’s definitely not happening. We were so hungover. It was brutal.”
“Rosie, baby. I need more ginger ale,” Cassidy says.
Another boom rattles the windows, and Sienna grips the table, her eyes widening. “Do you think they have a generator here?”
Adam cozies up to her and plants a kiss on her lips. “You’re going to be fine.” But she seems doubtful. Adam has the boyish good looks of a younger Leo. He could’ve been a movie star with that pearly grin and that chiseled dimple. Their tableside kiss is awkward. Leo turns away. PDA makes him uncomfortable. She knows him. He does that thing with his lips, licking the top and then the bottom.
“Can we go somewhere and talk? About last night?”
They can all hear him. The kitchen is small, and without the sizzling sounds of Jean-Paul frying bacon, they don’t pretend otherwise.
Adam, ever the charmer, raises his hand in the air. “How many lefties think Penny should give Leo a chance to explain?”
The room goes quiet, everyone careful not to overstep. Rosalie’s hand flies up. Jean-Paul’s too.
Hopefulness marks the girl’s eyes, and it hits Penny in that soft, tender spot that believes in happy endings.
Before Adam has a chance to ask the righties in the room for their vote, Penny slides off the stool and heads up the stairs with Leo trailing behind.