24. Ward
24
Ward
“D id you hear about our Shiny Penny?” Alex’s question had rung in his ears like a gong, snapping him out of his reverie, but it was what his friend said next that had replayed over and over in his mind for the past few hours. “Sounds like she’s moving in permanently with Hazel. She brought her mother today. Isn’t that something?”
How was it that Alex knew something so important about Penny? Ward had heard she’d gone home to handle some trouble with her mother, and he’d tried hard not to take it personally that she hadn’t bothered to tell him about her departure herself. But there was still the issue of his California life between them, and until they talked it through—until he had answers for her that he still needed to get for himself—he could understand why she hadn’t unloaded her altered plans on him. From what he’d heard from Juno, she was coming back eventually, once she got things sorted out with her mother.
“She’s moving here?” he’d asked Alex, wondering if he was misunderstanding. Ward was out with several friends at Patsy’s Pizza Parlor for his last night in town.
“Moving here. Making Autumn Lake home.” Alex said each word slowly, as if Ward had trouble understanding. “Like you should do, my dude.”
Ward grimaced and shook his head, but he didn’t speak. He wished he could talk about what his plans were for the near future, but he didn’t know how it was all going to work out, and he didn’t need the rumor mill spreading supposition as truth. He was leaving for California in the morning. When he’d be back, he had no idea, but he hoped it would be sooner than later. And he desperately hoped Penny would still be interested in what he had to say when he did return.
Now he sat in his favorite chair in the dark, feeling like a creeper, watching the two women conversing on Hazel’s front porch. He should flash his lights, so they’d know he was there, but he waited a few more minutes, soaking up the sight of Penny in her pretty pink dress, trying to burn the image of her into his retinas.
Finally, he rose, stepped inside the foyer so he wasn’t standing under the porch bulb, and flashed it on and off three times. Then he headed back outside and dropped into the chair again. Across the way, Hazel waved, and after a few moments, Penny got to her feet and went inside.
Apparently, she didn’t like the idea of him sitting over here watching them.
“Well, she’s gone inside, and Hazel doesn’t seem to mind,” he muttered to himself, sinking a little lower into the chair. “So I don’t have to go anywhere.”
But ten minutes later, he saw Penny re-emerge from the house, a book in her hand. Instead of sitting back down on the loveseat, however, she marched past Hazel and down the porch steps. Once on the lawn, she turned on a flashlight, and as he watched, she made her way down the driveway and out onto Shoreline Drive.
“She’s coming here,” he said out loud. “She’s coming to see me.”
His heart thundered into overdrive, and he lurched up out of his chair. He pulled open the front of his shirt and took a quick whiff. He’d showered after work, but it wasn’t unheard of to go into a pizza parlor smelling like pine and balsam and come out a few hours later wearing eau de garlic and cheese. Fortunately, Ward had driven home with his windows down, and he’d been sitting out on the porch for over an hour. “I’m good,” he told himself.
He felt so awkward standing there, his arms just hanging uselessly at his sides. He needed something in his hands. His phone? Good grief; no. That was what had caused all the trouble between them in the first place. Was there a flower close by he could pick for her?
“Don’t be so desperate,” he berated himself, linking his fingers behind his head in frustration. He turned in a slow circle, looking around the porch for anything that might make him feel a little more prepared, more in control of the situation.
Then he stopped. It wasn’t about how he felt. “I’m such a slow learner,” he moaned softly. He wanted to be what Penny needed him to be tonight. And if that meant he had to simply wait to find out what she needed, then that’s what he’d do.
So he made his way to the bottom of the porch steps and started down the walkway. The moon was out tonight, and even though it wasn’t full, it was high and bright in a clear sky, and after sitting in the dark for so long, he could easily see where he was going.
He’d meet her in the middle, he decided. In fact, it should have been him taking the initiative. If he picked up his pace, he could meet her a whole lot closer to her place than his. He’d be walking her back home, regardless.
It didn’t take long before she realized he was coming her way. She stopped in her tracks and waited for him; her flashlight pointed right at him. He lifted a hand to shield his eyes as he drew closer, and she lowered the light, so it was directed at the ground.
“Hey,” she said in a hushed voice. He couldn’t tell if she was breathless from the walk or because of him.
“Hey, Miss Penelope Anderson. How are you?” He squeezed his eyes shut briefly. What a banal first question to ask the woman he’d not spoken to in far too long.
“Better than I’ve been in a while,” she said. “I heard you’re going back to California in the morning.”
He didn’t hesitate. “I am. I have a break-of-dawn flight out of Evansville. In fact, I really should be in bed already, but—” He broke off, not quite sure how to finish that sentence. I couldn’t sleep because my mind is too full of thoughts of you? I couldn’t stop wishing things were different between us? I love you and I want to figure out a way for us to be together? Good grief. He cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his pockets.
“I—I brought you something,” she said, holding up the book in her hand. She didn’t give it to him, though. “A going away gift. It’s a romance novel.”
“A romance novel?” Even as he said it, he found he wasn’t really surprised. He’d seen what she read. He’d even gone over to Claire’s to look up the author of the book she’d been reading that first day at Juno’s. Destiny Baudelaire. Claire had told him he should read the author, that he’d enjoy the books, but he hadn’t been convinced.
“I know you saw inside my bag of books when you hauled them off Hazel’s porch and threw them in my trunk.” She paused, and he took the bait before he recognized it for what it was.
“I didn’t—”
“Gotcha,” she said, the moonlight bright enough for him to see her crooked smile.
“Fell for it again, didn’t I?” He wanted to say that he’d fallen for her, and that he’d keep falling for her again and again and again if she’d let him.
“You did, indeed,” she teased. “Anyway, you saw inside my book bag, so you know what I read. But I thought you might want to know why I read them.” She brought the novel to her chest and sort of hugged it. He could see that the front cover was a little tattered, the edges of it worn. A well-loved, often-read thing, he realized. “This is one of my favorites. I’ve read it every year around my birthday, and it makes me laugh and cry and long for the kind of relationship the two main characters end up with. Every time. It never gets old.”
“You sound like my father,” Ward said, hoping she remembered about his Hallmark channel fixation.
“I’ll take that as a compliment. I love your father, Ward.”
“I do, too.” This was the weirdest conversation he’d had in as long as he could remember—barring the one with his dad about romance movies—but he was in this for the long haul. He wanted to know where it would lead next.
Penny finally handed him the book, but when he started to open it, she put her hand over the cover, preventing him from doing so. “I hope you’ll read it, Ward. For me.”
“Of course, I will.” He wanted to cover her hand with his own, to lift it to his lips and press kisses on her knuckles. He wanted to trail kisses up her arm, to feel the heat of her skin against his lips, to nuzzle her neck and breathe in the fragrance of her hair. He wanted to press his mouth to hers, to crush her against him and kiss her until she melted into him—
“Ward?”
“Yes?” She was looking at him with a curious expression on her face. Had he missed something during his little speed fantasy just now? Focus, man.
“Don’t make promises if you’re not going to keep them.”
Ward hesitated before responding. Was she baiting him? Was this a trick? Was she setting him up to say something that would get thrown in his face later?
“I just mean that if you tell me you’re going to read it, then read it.”
“I’ll read it,” he repeated, this time more vehemently. “I’ll start reading it tonight.”
She gave him a small smile. “And maybe when you’re finished with it, you can call me so we can talk about it.”
“I’ll finish it, and I’ll call you when I do.” She was asking him to call her. She was trusting him to take a precious piece of her with him back to California, and she wanted to hear from him again.
Penny lifted her hand off the book and said, “Open it. Carefully. At about the middle.”
Ward turned the book in his hands and let the book fall open to a spot where something had been tucked into it. A flower encased in what felt like wax paper. He held it up, and she took it from him, opening a flap on one end and pulling the flower out to show him.
“It’s a sweet pea,” she said. “Hazel calls me Sweet Pea because of my initials. My full name is Penelope Eva Anderson.” She tucked it back into its envelope and handed it back to him. “It’s for you. To remember me by.”
He didn’t need a pressed flower to remind him of her. Or a book, for that matter. But he was deeply moved by the tender, thoughtful gift. “I’ll read your book, Penny,” he told her again. “And I’ll be thinking of you the whole time.”
She chuckled softly. “Hopefully, you’ll be thinking of the storyline, because you know I’ll be drilling you on it when you call.”
“And you know I’ll be calling when I finish it.” He reached toward her; he couldn’t resist touching her, just one more time.
Penny released a sound so soft, he almost thought he’d imagined it. But then she stepped forward and pressed herself into him, hugging him gently around the waist, her face buried in his chest.
Surprised, but oh, so relieved, Ward’s arms went around her, and he held her against him as they rocked ever so slightly under the moonlit sky. He rested his chin on top of her head and said a silent prayer of thanks for these tender moments between them.
“I miss you, too,” she whispered against his chest, then she pulled away and stepped back just out of his reach. “I’ll wait for your call, Ward.”
He walked her back to Hazel’s house—it would now be Penny’s house, too; he realized—where Hazel still sat on the porch awaiting Penny’s return. He didn't touch her again, but all the way home, he couldn't stop thinking about the way she felt against him, held close in his arms.