23. Penny
23
Penny
I miss you. Penny stared at the words on her phone screen for the thousandth time.
I miss you.
Those three little words had carried her through the hectic week she’d spent at her aunt and uncle’s home. They’d buoyed her up as she loaded her mother and all her things into the back of her car.
I miss you.
They’d stirred up the tiny ember of hope that she’d been secretly harboring in the back corner of her heart as she made the long drive back home.
Home. It had never rung so true inside of her before. Home.
Hazel hurried down the front porch steps to greet her, Juno and Claire right behind her, and the three dogs right behind them.
“Welcome home, Sweet Pea.” The older woman hugged her quickly once Penny was out of the car, then she and the others stood back as Penny circled the car to the passenger seat to help her mother out.
“Hey, Mom. We’re here. Do you remember Hazel?” Penny looped her arm through Judy’s and led her around the front of the car to introduce her to the three women, but the dogs had other plans. All three of them hurried up to Judy, welcoming her with sniffing noses, wiggly butts, and wagging tails.
Judy brought both hands up to her cheeks in surprise, then burst out laughing. A moment later, she dropped to the ground, cross-legged, and welcomed Jimbo and Delilah onto her lap with snuggles and kisses and belly rubs and giggles. Murtagh circled the group once, twice, then licked her face, making her squeal with delight, and returned to Hazel’s side.
Penny covered her mouth with one hand and swallowed hard at the tears that threatened to well up. Claire and Juno came up and put their arms around her on either side, and the three of them stood back, watching as her mother fell in love with the loveable little furballs.
“Did you give Miss Judy your stamp of approval, Murty?” Hazel asked, crouching down to stroke the dog’s head affectionately. Then she, too, lowered herself a little gingerly to the grass, and sat down facing Judy, only a couple of feet between them. Murtagh sat on his haunches beside her. When Judy finally noticed her, Hazel smiled and waved. “Hello, Judy.”
“Hi, Silvia.” The rest of her words came out a little jumbled, but Penny thought she understood. Before she could translate for Hazel, the older woman responded.
“Oh, yes. They’re mine. But they sure like you.” She pointed at Jimbo, then Delilah, introducing the two little dogs in Judy’s lap.
“Hi, Silvia,” Judy said again.
“Hi, Judy,” Hazel replied.
“Who is Silvia?” Juno asked as the three of them started unloading the car.
Penny explained to them about Judy’s history at Autumn Lake. “She’s the reason I started coming here,” she said, hoisting a heavy canvas bag onto her shoulder.
“I remember her,” Claire said, pulling a suitcase from the trunk. “That was the day we met, Penny. You and your mother came to my shop and spent the whole afternoon with your heads together, talking and giggling like schoolgirls over different books. I didn’t want to interrupt, but I was so glad when you finally asked me for help.”
“That was a good day.” Penny remembered it well. Her mother had still been herself most of the time, and it had seemed like she was soaking up every experience as though she were storing the happy times up. They’d taken several pictures that day while they wandered up and down the boardwalk, stopping in at shops and cafés along the way. Later that week, Penny had picked up the photos she’d had printed at a nearby drugstore, and the two of them had talked about each one, labeling them with names, dates, and something special about each one. “Mom said you looked like Cinderella that day. You were wearing a blue dress, and you had a blue ribbon in your hair. I remember it so clearly.”
Claire beamed with pleasure. “That’s right. I love that dress. Call me if you decide to bring her to my shop. I’ll run up and change into it. See if it triggers any memories for her.” Claire lived in a gorgeous two-bedroom apartment directly above her bookstore.
“That would be so cool. I will.” They carted their first load inside and up the stairs to the bedroom that shared the bathroom with Penny.
“Oh my goodness,” Claire exclaimed from Penny’s room, where she’d taken the suitcase she was carrying. “Look at this, Penny. Hazel put a vase of sweet peas on your dresser. I just love that she calls you that.”
Penny and Juno came in through the connecting bathroom to ooh and ahh over the green glass vase with the colorful bouquet of sweet peas. They were lovely flowers, with their ruffly petals and long, slender green stems. Penny brushed her fingers over the flowers, then picked up the vase and brought it close so she could smell them, breathing in the fragrance that always reminded her of Hazel. “I don’t know what I’d do without her. She’s like my fairy godmother.” She peered at her friends over the tops of the flowers.
“I think she feels the same way about you, Penny,” Claire said.
“I second that. She looks forward to you coming every year, girlie,” Juno told her. “But this summer, she needed you. She needs you,” she amended.
On their way back downstairs, Penny finished explaining why Judy called Hazel Silvia. “The reason my mom wanted us to come here was because she had these memories of this place from her youth. For a few years, she and her parents came to Autumn Lake with another family, the Pontiers, who had three kids: Silvia, Rita, and Hector. Mom had a massive crush on Hector.”
“And she thinks Hazel is this Silvia person,” Juno surmised.
“Apparently, yes. She actually started calling her Silvia the last time she came—gosh, seven years ago now.” Penny stopped on the stairs on their way back down and pressed her hand to her chest. “The human mind amazes me, you guys. She can’t remember who I am half the time, but she takes one look at Hazel and remembers who she is, at least who she is in her mind. She’s not Silvia, of course. But she’s Silvia to my mom. The fact that she remembers anything at all so clearly is nothing short of a miracle.” Her voice cracked, but she smiled right through it. “I think this might just work. I can hardly believe it—talk about miracles—but I think we can make this work for all of us.”
“Thank you, Jesus,” Juno murmured behind her.
“Amen,” Claire exclaimed. “Amen to that, girlie.”
It took a little convincing to get Judy to come inside, but once Juno helped Hazel to her feet, and the dogs scrambled off Judy’s lap to follow her, Penny was able to get her mother to do the same. In the kitchen, the five women set about getting a meal prepared. Judy set the table, mixing and matching utensils, placing drinking glasses at some places and not at others, and draping the napkins over the silver candlesticks in the middle of the table, but Penny didn’t bother going around and putting things to right. Her friends would figure it out just fine.
“It’s going to be like a scavenger hunt.” Claire declared with a delighted smile when she saw the table.
The other women from the Garden Variety Lovers Club were joining them for supper, and although Penny had worried about having so many people descend upon them their first day there, she’d decided to let things play out the way they did. She didn’t need to be embarrassed by her mother’s behavior, nor did she need to pretend that everything was all right. She was among friends, and it would be good for them to know firsthand what Penny and her mother dealt with on an ongoing basis.
Judy, however, seemed to be on her best behavior all evening long. Although her words ran together and most of the time, no one really understood what she was trying to say, she remained pleasant and engaged. She seemed to really enjoy just being a part of the group of women, laughing when they did, leaning in when she wanted to contribute, and patting Hazel’s hand on multiple occasions. It was a loving, familiar gesture that tugged at Penny’s heartstrings. Her mother was a hand-patter; she always had been, and Penny hadn’t realized how long it had been since she’d seen her mother do it.
In a moment of silence, Judy sat forward and asked, clear as day, “Where is Hector?”
Hazel, already knowing the stories, having heard them when Judy, herself, had told them, touched Judy’s cheek to get her attention. “He’ll be here soon. We just have to wait patiently for him.”
Judy studied her for several moments, her brow furrowed, as if trying to process what she’d just said. Finally, she nodded. “Okay.”
To the rest of them, Hazel said, “My mother suffered from dementia, and in the olden days,” she said with a chuckle. “They used to tell us to correct them. To help them not be so confused by telling them the truth. But with my mother, the truth actually made things worse for her. In her mind, what she thought was the truth. When I’d contradict her, it scared her. So I started telling her what she wanted to hear. It wasn’t like spoiling a child.”
“Hi, Silvia.” Judy patted Hazel’s hand.
“Hi, Judy.” Hazel took Judy’s hand and just held it. “I always saw it as a comfort measure. A way to ease her mind. It wasn’t cruel, either. I wasn’t lying to her. I was responding to the truth in the world she lived in.”
“That’s what they tell us to do nowadays. Did you know that?” Penny asked, watching Hazel interact with her mother. It really was remarkable how calm Judy was; she was usually much more agitated after the sun went down.
“I think I must have heard that somewhere. At least, that doesn’t surprise me.”
“You were and are wise beyond your years, Miss Hazel,” Liz said from her seat at the other end of the table.
“Well, thank you, Lizette.” Hazel always called Liz by her full name. She thought it was the most delightful name in all of Autumn Lake. Turning to Judy, she said, “Tomorrow, we’ll go sit on the dock and wait for Hector, shall we?”
For dessert, Hazel had made a lemon poppyseed loaf with silky lemon drizzle icing. While Juno dished it up onto pretty little dessert plates, Penny made coffee. “You should be doing this,” she said over her shoulder to her barista friend.
“It’s time for you to stretch your limits, girlie.” Juno bumped hips with her as she passed with a few loaded up plates. “It’s a season of change. Of growth. Isn’t it exciting?”
It was, indeed, thought Penny. And try as she might to not allow it, her thoughts moved to Ward. What would he say when he learned that she and her mother were moving to Autumn Lake? Would he be happy for her?
No one had brought up the subject of Ward St. James that evening. At least not so far. Which didn’t bode well, she thought. If the news had been good, or even hopeful, surely, one of them would have let it slip. But their silence on the subject led her to believe otherwise.
I miss you. His text must have been an isolated moment of weakness. Of guilt, maybe.
“We serve a mighty God, ladies,” Hazel said, drawing Penny’s attention to the woman seated at the table. The coffee was just finishing brewing, and Penny replaced the carafe with a mug to catch the last little bit, put the carafe on a tray with half a dozen mugs, and took them to the table.
“That we do,” Juno agreed.
“A mighty God who sits up high and sees down low,” Hazel continued.
“Amen, sister,” Addison whispered.
“He sees this right here, this circle of hearts.” Hazel gestured around the table at each woman there, ending with Judy. “He knows our every need and He meets those needs as He sees fit. Tonight, my lovelies, I’m so glad He saw fit to bring you to my table.” She smiled at Penny. “To what is soon to officially become our table, right, Sweet Pea?”
“I will not cry,” Penny declared, blotting her eyes with her napkin. “Not again. At least not right now. I don’t know how to thank you, Hazel.”
“Oh, silly girl. You already are just by saying ‘yes’ to me. I’m weary of being alone. I’m exhausted by the longstanding worry of what I’m going to do with this place when I can no longer take care of it.” She shook her head and said with a dry laugh, “What I’m really tired of is having to clean bathrooms and bedrooms after guests who don’t think twice about the mess they leave behind.”
Hazel’s proposal had been for Penny to bring her mother back to Autumn Lake with her to spend the rest of the summer at the guesthouse. “Let’s see how we all do together,” Hazel had said. “I think we might be able to manage both your mother and this guesthouse if we work together as a team, Sweet Pea.” With Hazel’s experience caring for her own mother, and Penny’s willingness to pour herself into getting the guesthouse back up and running like it once had, they’d agreed that they’d make one heck of a team.
“We’ll find our rhythm,” Hazel said, reaching over to take Judy’s hand. “We’ve got time.”
“Don’t you have guests coming next week?” Candy asked. “Is there anything we can do to help you prepare?”
Hazel grinned. “Not anymore, we don’t. My guests were potential buyers. I called to let them know that The Garden Gate Guesthouse is off the market.”
When the meal ended, and Judy’s eyelids began to droop, the little dinner party broke up, and together, Penny and Hazel helped Judy get settled in for the night. She had a new medication that was supposed to help her sleep better at nights, and with all the upheaval of the past few days, she was exhausted, anyway. Hazel had done a wonderful job of child-proofing the Jack and Jill bedrooms and bathroom that connected them, and Penny hoped they’d all get some much-needed sleep tonight.
Once her mother was resting peacefully, Penny tiptoed out of the room, her trusty baby monitor in tow. She’d gotten one a few years ago when Judy’s sleep patterns started changing, and it had become a necessity for her peace of mind. Her aunt and uncle used one as well, but somehow, they’d not heard Judy get out of bed that night. It wasn’t their fault or their negligence; things like that just happened sometimes.
Penny wasn’t surprised to find Hazel sitting out on the front porch, dozing on her swing, Murtagh snoozing beside her with his head on her lap. Delilah and Jimbo had made themselves comfortable in the loveseat, almost as though they knew she’d be joining them and had just been warming her spot for her.
Penny settled in between the little dogs and tucked her legs up under her.
“Have you heard from Ward, Sweet Pea?” Hazel’s question caught her by surprise, especially after the evening during which it seemed that everyone was specifically avoiding any mention of him.
“Um… no,” Penny began, then thought of the text. “Only a short text on Saturday letting me know he was thinking of me. Nothing important.” It had been important to her, but to him, it probably meant very little.
“Then it seems to have fallen to me to fill you in on what I know. Not because I’m a gossip, mind you, but because I love you, child, and I will not have you be put in a position where you’re caught unawares. You’ve had enough of that for a lifetime this month.”
“I—I don’t like the sound of this.” Penny’s voice shook. She picked up Delilah and held her close, turning away when the dog tried to breathe in her face.
Hazel got straight to the point. “Ward is going back to California this week.”
“He is?” Penny’s heart jackhammered erratically inside her ribcage. “Has he—when does he leave?” Was he going to go without saying goodbye to her? And why had he texted I miss you, if he was going back to California, to that… that Rochelle woman? Had he texted Penny by mistake? Had that message been intended for Rochelle?
“I believe he goes tomorrow. Early. I’m sorry, Penny. I was so hoping that he’d reached out to you to let you know personally.”
“Is he coming back?” The question sounded so pitiful, she knew, but she’d hoped—oh, how she’d hoped—that his I miss you had meant that there might be a future for them. That maybe he’d heard she was moving to the lake, and that he’d be here waiting for her.
She’d hoped against hope.
“Rachel told me that he has several irons in the fire out there that need to be dealt with. She says he wants his father’s business, which is such a burden off their shoulders, but when he’ll return to take over for Ted will depend on how things unfold out on the West Coast.” Hazel looked past Penny toward the house that sat across the inlet. “She didn’t say much more than that, I’m afraid.”
An ache so intense, Penny found it hard to breathe, pressed in on her until she thought she might be crushed beneath the weight of it. “I thought…” She didn’t know how to put all that she was feeling into words. “It’s only been a few weeks, I know, but I thought—I thought there was something real between us. Something worth making changes for. I guess I was secretly hoping that my move here might make his move here more of a possibility.”
Hazel smiled and nodded. “I did, too, darling girl. I did, too. And don’t let anyone tell you that time is the determining factor in love. Three weeks, three days, three years. If you know, you know.”
“Listen to you.” Penny let out a pitiful little chuckle. “Hashtag IYKYK.”
Hazel smiled cheekily. “I learned that from Candy yesterday. She was showing me around the website and said it in response to something I said. I thought it was both cute and true.” Hazel pointed at Penny. “We women—and men, for that matter—need to learn to trust our instincts more. God has given us the wisdom of the ages. All we have to do is ask for it.”
“Lord, how I need a little of that wisdom,” Penny said, lifting her face heavenward
After several minutes of silence, Hazel spoke again. “In all the good romances, be they novels or movies, when all seems lost, there’s always a grand gesture. That act of courage, the leap of faith that brings the two lovers back together.”
Penny eyed her curiously, wondering where on earth she was going with this. “The grand gestures. Yes.”
“That’s what I’m praying for, Sweet Pea. The opportunity for a grand gesture. Whether it’s you who gets the opportunity or him, doesn’t matter. I just wanted you to know that’s what I’m asking the good Lord for you and Ward.”
“I don’t know whether I should thank you or run scared,” Penny said with a sad laugh.
“Just keep your ears and eyes open for now. You can thank me later.”
Just then, the lights on the St. James porch flashed on and off, on and off, on and off.
Hazel looked at Penny, one eyebrow lifted in challenge.
“You want me to go over there and talk to him? He’s leaving in the morning.”
“He’s not gone yet.” She held out her hand toward Penny. “Give me that monitor. I can keep an eye on your mother.”