27
Penny
“Alright, the muffins are done, I’ve chucked some extras bits in the freezer for emergencies, and my cakes are cooling,” I say, as I walk out of the kitchen and through to the staff room, a week later, with a bag of Reese’s Mini Peanut Butter Cups in hand.
God, it feels good to be back at work, even if it is only for a few hours a day.
I’ve been given the all clear on the gestational diabetes front, meaning I can continue to eat all the chocolate I like, even if it does give me heartburn, but my blood pressure is still on the higher end of normal, and most days it feels like my body is revolting against me. So, for now, I’m allowed to come in, bake to my heart’s content for a total of three hours each morning, and then I’m sent home like a naughty child.
I’d complain, but afternoons naps are amazing, and my pelvis has stopped hurting, so…
“Surprise!” Molly and Evie scream as I enter the room, making me jump out of my damn skin.
Blue balloons, green streamers, and an inflatable baby with a bottle in its mouth greet me, along with two very happy-looking women, holding far too many overflowing gift bags.
“Oh, for the love of God,” I groan, hand over my racing heart. “ Really ? I said no baby shower-”
“Oh, wah, wah,” Evie teases. “You didn’t seriously think we’d let you have a child without throwing some kind of party to celebrate, did you?”
“I’m only twenty-four-weeks-”
“Aunty P!” Emma squeals, jumping out from behind her mother to surprise me. “I missded you!” Quickly, she runs across the room and wraps her arms around my legs, pressing her little face into my stomach. “And you,” she whispers against my black t-shirt. “Missded baby, too.”
My mild irritation melts away immediately, and I bend down and wrap her in my arms. “Missed you, my girl.”
Fucking Ryan is always stealing her away.
I feel like it’s been weeks since I’ve seen her, when in reality, it’s only been two days.
“We gots you pwesents,” she whispers, as if the fact is a secret.
“Oh, you did, did you?” I ask, eyeing Molly and Evie as they start piling the bags in their hands onto the staff room table.
“Mhmm,” Emma replies. “Wots and wots of CWOVES!”
“For the baby,” Molly clarifies. “And for mumma.”
“We may have gone overboard,” Evie adds, placing two more bags onto the table after shuffling a few around to make room. “Sorry.”
“I won’t say I’m not a little worried, considering the last gift you got me-”
“You are literally wearing those crocs, woman,” Evie interjects, pointing to my incredibly comfortable feet. “So don’t tell me we don’t know what you like!”
I roll my eyes playfully, ‘cos she’s right. I love these things. I’ve actually been thinking about ordering myself a black pair.
“Fine, fine,” I groan dramatically. “Shower me in presents, if you must.” I lift my phone to check the time, and add, “You’ve got about an hour and a half until the lunch rush.”
Evie waves off my warning. “Alex and Izzy will be fine. Sit down.”
One hour and two cups of decaf later, I’m surrounded by neutral coloured baby clothes, and I’m holding one of the first onesies I ever got for Em against my stomach while trying not to let the tears building in my eyes escape as I blink. Seems the girls not only went shopping but also pulled down the boxes of Emma’s baby clothes we shoved into Molly’s roof.
“I can’t believe she was so small,” Evie coos, from across the table.
“Didn’t feel that small coming out,” Molly says with a huff, from beside me. “Oh shit,” she adds, wincing as she looks at me. “Sorry. I really need to stop doing that.”
I wave her off. “I think you forget that I was there when you had Emma, and I damn well know how it went, hence why my birth plan consists of an epidural and any other drugs they’ll throw my way.”
“What dwugs?” Emma asks, looking up at me from her chair, still plastered to my side, one of my chocolates in her mouth, muffling her words.
We all laugh at the concerned look on her face, and I run my hand through her silky brown hair and say, “Don’t you worry about that, Angel. Aunty P’s just joking.”
But I’m not.
Every drug. All the drugs. I want them.
“Oh,” she says, looking over at her mother. “Otay. When’s daddy get here? He said he take me to da pwaywgwound…”
“He’ll be here in a, oh, look!” Molly says, spotting Ryan the second he walks into the staff room, a grin spread from one side of his face to the other.
“Hi, gorgeous,” he says to Molly as she practically sprints across the room and throws herself into his open arms. “Sorry I’m a little late. How’s your day been?”
“Mmmm,” she hums against his chest as he runs a hand over the back of her head. “Good so far.”
“Glad to hear it,” he replies, releasing her to make room in his arms for Emma, who, like her mother, runs at him and launches her tiny body against his.
“Ah, there’s my girl,” he says, lifting her off the ground and swinging her into the air. “You ready to go?”
“Yes. Yes. Yes!” Emma exclaims, resting her hands on his shoulders. “I want to swide, and cwimb da wopes, and oh, you will push me on swing?”
He nods seriously. “Of course.”
“And if someone on my swing, you scare dem off again, wight?”
“I…”
“ Again ?” Molly whisper-yells, eyes wide. “Ryan, are you bullying children at the playground?”
“Of course not,” he scoffs, doing his best to avoid eye contact with her as he leans in, kisses her on the cheek, and then spins around with Emma still in his arms. “Em, baby,” he says, just loud enough for us all to hear as he heads for the exit. “Be cool. What happens at the playground, stays at the playground.”
Once the coast is clear, Evie turns her attention to me and leans in. “Okay, spill. How’s everything with Beckett? Have you accidentally kissed again? Or… accidentally tripped and fell onto his,” she pauses, glances around to make sure the coast is clear, and then whispers, “ Penis .”
I roll my eyes and Molly’s attention immediately shifts from the empty doorway to us. She sits back down, and then both her and Evie rest their chins on their hands, and blink at me, waiting for a response to the question.
I sigh, think on it for a moment, and then shrug. “Fine, I guess. He’s being kind of weird, though.”
“Weird how?” Evie asks, leaning forward again as if I’m about to tell her a secret.
Recalling the most recent scenario, I say, “Okay, so the other day, I got upset with him ‘cos he was, well I can’t remember what he was doing but I got pissy with him-”
“Standard,” Molly comments.
“Anyway,” I snap. “Instead of fighting with me, he literally got up, kissed me on the forehead and then walked out.”
“He just left?” Evie asks, sounding shocked.
I nod. “Yep, then he came back twenty minutes later with a box of Guylian seashell chocolates, and large popcorn chicken from KFC, and then presented them to me like food was the solution to the problem.”
“What an asshole,” Molly says, rolling her lips together.
“ Was food the solution to the problem?” Evie asks with the same amused look Molly has on her face.
I sigh dreamily, remembering how good that chicken was. “ Yeah . Yeah, it was.”
Molly shakes her head, looks over at Evie, and then back at me. “So… things are good, then?”
I clear my throat. “Yeah. They’re good, but I’ll be coming home soon enough, and then everything will change. So, who knows?”
The statement sends a pang of something through my chest, causing it to tighten, just a little.
I hate that, that keeps happening…
“About that,” Evie says nervously, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. “So, I got an email from our real estate agent this morning.”
“Okay…”
“They’re, um, they’re not renewing our lease.”
What the fuck?
“You’re joking!” I say, much louder than intended, making both Molly and Evie jump. “Why? For what reason? We’re great tenants!”
Evie shrugs. “The owners are apparently moving back to town, and… well, they want to live in their house, I guess.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
I knew we should have bought something by now. When Molly and I first moved to Mawson Lakes, we were in no position to buy our own place as well as the cafe, so instead, we signed a long-term lease and called it a day. The rent was cheap, the house was adorable, and we were happy. Then Evie moved in, and the place became our home . Even after Molly moved out with Emma, our house was still our house…
“Okay,” I say on a sigh. “Well, I’ve got more free time on my hands right now than I ever have before, so I’ll start looking for another place. The café is doing great. I’ve got a decent nest egg sitting in my savings account, so buying is definitely an option now. That way I guess we wouldn’t have to deal with this again-”
“Pen,” Evie says, reaching forward and cupping one of my flailing hands with her own. “Sweetie…”
“What?” I ask, looking from her to Molly and back again. “If you don’t want to buy, we can just look for a new-”
“No,” she says, looking over at Molly with a weird expression on her face. “It’s not that.”
“Okay…Well could one of you spit it out, because you’re giving each other ‘that look’ and I’m in no mood to try to figure out why.”
“You know,” Evie says slowly. “It’s okay if you want to, you know…”
“I really don’t.”
She sighs. “Pen, it’s okay if you want to stay at Beckett’s. If you want to, you know, live there with him. Be with him …”
“I…”
What?
Stay ?
No. I can’t.
I’ve already been there too long.
I can’t even count how many times I’ve pulled my duffle bag out from under my bed with the intention of packing my things, only to be stopped by my stupid heart and my stupid feelings. Then, like the idiot I am, I shove the bag right back into its hiding place and tell myself that I’ll just stay a little longer. Just a few more days. Until I’m fully healed. Until I have no pain whatsoever.
I shake my head. “No. I… I can’t do that.”
My mother’s words run through my head, solidifying my stance.
A leopard doesn’t change their spots, Penny.
But then another thought slithers its way in.
Does Beckett actually have spots?
Is he a cheater , or is he something else entirely?
That’s the fucking question.
“I can’t just forgive him,” I rush out. “What kind of woman would it make me if I did?”
Evie shrugs, cocks her head to one side, and says, “A happy one? One that moves on from the past and gets the family she deserves. The man she deserves. One who clearly worships the ground she walks on, despite his mistakes. Despite her own .”
Well shit.
That certainly is a fucking answer…
I nod and swallow harshly, unsure of what else I’m supposed to do.
“We just want you to be happy,” Molly says. “And if he makes you happy, Pen. That’s okay…”
“But we don’t have to make any decisions right now,” Evie adds, giving me her signature reassuring smile. “The landlords have given us three months’ notice, and if you want to buy something together, we will. But if you do want to stay at Beckett’s, you can. I have no problem finding myself something small and adopting a bunch of cats to keep me company.”
Her comment lightens the mood instantly, and the three of us laugh, knowing she absolutely would adopt a bunch of cats and live happily ever after in a house full of flowers and fur without complaint.
Thankfully, after we stop giggling at the thought, the girls allow the conversation to move on to Evie’s love life, instead of mine.
“No. You can’t go on a date with him. Absolutely not,” I say as I look down at her phone.
“Oh, stop it,” she says, scowling as she tries to grab her phone from my hand. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“First of all,” I say, holding the device out of reach. “ Kyle is a douchebag’s name.”
“You’re only saying that ‘cos Kyle Munn pulled your pig tails in fifth grade,” Molly says, being as helpful as ever.
“My point exactly.”
“Stop,” Evie whines. “He’s really sweet, and you haven’t even met him!”
“Either have you!” I point out. “And writing a few nice messages does not make him sweet . It makes him literate.”
“Penny,” Evie deadpans.
“His profile picture looks like a fucking mug shot.” I wave her phone, and the photo of him, at her.
Molly snorts and covers her mouth as Evie glares at her.
“It does not. You’re crazy. Molly tell her she’s crazy.”
“ He’s crazy!” I say. “He has serial killer eyes!”
“Because they’re brown?”
“Because they’re dead!” I zoom in on the photo and point at them.
“Oh my God!”
“Look,” Molly starts, an amused smile spread across her face. “You have so many men to choose from, sweetie. Why not give Creepy Kyle a miss?”
“Creepy Kyle!” I yell, pointing at Molly. “See! She agrees with me!”
Evie glares at me, but I can see the corners of her lips twitching and know she’s on the verge of laughter.
“Admit it,” I tease, leaning in with the photo of Kyle’s face held up next to mine. “Go on.”
Evie snorts, just as Izzy calls Molly’s name. A moment later, she appears in the doorway of the staffroom. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but like, fifteen people just came through the door and Alex is over talking to Mrs. Locker, and I don’t want anyone to have to wait-”
“I’m coming, Iz. Don’t stress,” Molly says.
Izzy nods and immediately spins around and disappears.
Bless her. She does get herself in a tizzy when under pressure.
“Alright, well, this was fun…” Molly snickers as she stands. “But we better get back to it, and you, preggers . You need to go home.”
“Oh,” Evie says, as she, too, stands. “I forgot to tell you. I’ve scheduled a bunch of interviews for next week.” I cringe at the thought and obviously don’t do a good job of hiding my displeasure. “Hey, hey,” she says, placing her hand on my shoulder and squeezing the tense muscle. “It’s temporary . And this way, you can train one of them up while you’re still able to, and then, when you’re ready to come back, your kitchen will be waiting. No need to pout.”
“I’m not pouting,” I grumble. When they both just stand there, looking down at me with raised eyebrows, I groan, cross my arms, and say, “Fine. But we’re not going to find anyone. All of those resumes were horrible.”
“Ten bucks says you haven’t even looked at one,” Molly says as she pushes in her chair and heads for the door.
I don’t bother responding because she’s right.
“Talk to Beckett,” Evie says, as she follows behind her. “And try not to accidentally fall on his face with your face again while you’re at it!”
“Oh my God,” I groan to myself as I reach for my phone.
“Penny and Beckett sitting in a tree. K. I. S. S. I. N. G,” she sings.
“You’re a child!”
“Love you,” she calls back.
I shake my head and look down at my phone screen to find a message from the man himself.
BECKETT: Leaving work now, Love. You want me to grab you anything on my way home?
Home .
It’s not, though, is it?
Even if it kind of feels like it is…
This is all getting entirely out of hand.
With a sigh, I place my phone on the table, screen down, and ignore the butterflies swirling in my stomach, refusing to acknowledge the fact that a message from him still causes this kind of physical reaction.
What the fuck am I going to do?