Chapter 20
Penny
The lunch rush at Central Café has eased into a lazy afternoon rhythm. Only a few customers remain, lingering over a piece of pie after their meatloaf and fried okra special.
Muriel came in to have said special, but I know she’s here to check on things. As is her right.
This is her baby, after all.
She’s currently at a table near the counter, queen of her domain once again, surrounded by a trio of her lifelong friends—Missy, Doris and Louise.
Gone is her wheelchair and now she’s only using the Rollator walker.
Her hospital gown has been traded for a pink floral dress that speaks to the spring weather.
I’m proud to report that her sass is intact and her patience for recovery is nonexistent.
She’s tried twice now to take over the inventory, but I chased her away.
I lean against the counter with my clipboard and watch her hold court.
Every few minutes, she sneaks a glance toward the kitchen to make sure it’s not burning down.
She keeps a watchful gaze on the waitresses, making sure that they are catering to every customer’s needs.
More than once, she looks over at me with that skepticism that I’m doing everything just right.
“You keep watchin’ me like that, I’m gonna start chargin’ you a manager’s salary,” I say when her eyes land on me.
Muriel chuckles. “Please. You couldn’t afford my opinion.”
“That’s what scares me.”
“Good. Fear keeps you from overbakin’ the corn bread.”
“That makes no sense whatsoever,” I grumble, waving her off.
Her friends cackle, fanning themselves with laminated menus even though it’s not even hot outside.
Fanning, though, is a way of Southern life as it not only chases the heat away but the bugs as well.
I watch as the ladies pass around a folded newspaper with Sam’s face on the front—an article about his new book release.
Doris sighs dramatically. “That boy’s smile could melt the butter clean off a biscuit. ”
Muriel snorts. “Don’t tell him that. His ego’s already got its own zip code.”
I grin because if there’s one person in this town who doesn’t have an ego, it’s Sam.
Just thinking about him causes fluttery feelings, but it’s always tempered with the pang somewhere between excitement and dread.
Muriel’s recovery is going better than anyone expected.
She’s walking, she’s got her wit, and she’s threatening to be back behind the counter within a week.
Which means my excuse for staying in Whynot grows thinner by the day.
The thought sticks with me as I circle through the café, topping up coffees and straightening sugar caddies. The bell over the door jingles with the occasional customer, the day stretching warm and easy—until my phone buzzes on the counter.
I glance down.
Charles Ward—AgriSolutions Policy Group.
My boss.
Stomach bottoming out, I pick up the phone and stare at it with apprehension.
We’ve been communicating by email and I’ve assumed everything’s okay with my extended leave.
For a split second, I imagine the worst—I’ve been away too long, they’ve replaced me, or he’s calling to fire me politely.
Mouth dry, I move to the door and step outside.
Leaning against the brick wall, I connect the call. “Hi, Charles.”
“Penny! Glad I caught you.”
He sounds… normal. Jovial, even. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you today.”
His voice comes through bright and professional, like it always does when he’s about to drop something big.
“Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. In fact, it’s the opposite.
The board just approved a national restructuring.
We’re creating a new position—Senior Policy Director of Agricultural Strategy, and you’re the first person I thought of. ”
I blink at the horizon, the words slow to land. “Senior policy director?”
“Yes. It’s a major step up. You’d lead our team on the Sustainable Farming Initiative—liaising with Congress, writing policy recommendations, traveling to summits.
It comes with a salary increase to one ninety-five, plus a generous travel stipend and a small team of analysts.
Of course, the responsibilities are heavier.
You’d be doing probably about seventy percent travel. ”
My pulse stutters. Did he say one ninety-five? As in one hundred and ninety-five thousand dollars a year?
“Wow,” I say lamely. “I mean… that’s incredible. I’m flattered you would consider me, especially since I’ve had to take leave.”
“Penny,” Charles says, almost in a chiding manner. “You’re so good at what you do, it’s why we let you take the leave. We nurture our people here. When we have talent such as yours, we do what we can to keep you. If the salary isn’t enough, it is negotiable.”
My head spins and I’m having a hard time comprehending what’s going on. “I’m not sure when I’d be able to return.” I glance over to Muriel, who is walking around with a pitcher of sweet tea on the seat of her Rollator, filling glasses. “My aunt still has a ways to go in her recovery.”
“Not a problem. We’ll hold the position if you want it.”
I wipe a sticky palm on my jeans. Why in the heck are my hands sweating?
“Can I have some time to think about it? The amount of travel is definitely something I want to make sure I’m committed to undertaking.”
“Of course,” Charles said. “But I’d really like an answer within forty-eight hours. If you decline it, we’ll go outside the company.”
“I’ll absolutely have an answer for you by then. And thank you, Charles. It means the world to me that you’d offer such an incredible opportunity.”
“You’ve earned it,” he says warmly. “And when you’re ready to come back, we’ll have everything in place for you to start immediately. No rush—just something to look forward to. This is the kind of role people wait a lifetime for.”
“I know.” I glance through the café window, see Muriel waving at me like she already knows this is big. “I promise I’ll have an answer for you tomorrow.”
“Sounds great.”
When the call ends, I stand there thinking, the phone pressed to my chest. My mind races with numbers and logistics—salary, travel, my ability to afford a nicer place. But beneath all that practical noise, there’s something harder to face.
I’ve been starting to imagine staying in Whynot. It’s been flirting with my brain since Sam kissed me, although I keep pushing it aside. I keep telling myself that I have plenty of time to figure things out.
It looks like my time is up.
I take a breath, push through the café door, and head straight for Muriel, who’s now standing in the kitchen doorway barking instructions about tomorrow’s breakfast special.
“Can I talk to you for a sec?” I say, receiving a grateful smile from our afternoon cook, Betsy.
“Sure, honey.”
She walks slowly but steadily, and I follow her to a vacant table in the corner, eyeballing her progress with each step. She really is a tough old lady.
When we’re seated, I say, “That was my boss. He offered me a promotion.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Well, look at you. What’s the new title, Miss Fancy Pants?”
“Senior Policy Director. It’s huge, Muriel. More money, more responsibility.”
She leans forward. “Then why do you look like someone just handed you a ticking time bomb?”
“Because that’s what it feels like,” I admit. “I thought he was calling to tell me to come back or be replaced. Instead, it’s my dream job. But it means more travel, more work, more… everything. I’m not sure about this.”
Muriel studies me, her expression soft but her gaze sharp. “You’re worried about leaving? Child… you ran from Whynot and never looked back. What’s going on with you?”
I swallow hard. “I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.”
She stares at me, daring me to deny it.
Heaving out a sigh, I pick at the corner of the tablecloth. “I left Whynot because it wasn’t big enough for me. It didn’t offer enough. But now… I’m seeing that it might have something for me.”
“Sam,” Muriel says with a knowing smile.
I nod, worrying at my bottom lip. “I don’t know what to do,” I confess.
“I came here to help you, and I’ve loved every bit of it—even when you’ve been bossy as hell.
But Sam…” My voice falters. “He’s made me reconsider all the things I thought were important in my life, and now I’m not so sure DC is where it’s at. ”
“You have some pretty deep feelings,” she surmises.
I nod again, letting it spill out. “Sam loves this place. Like, it’s a part of who he is, and watching the town rally around him… it’s making me realize I might have left something precious behind.”
“Community,” Muriel says.
“Exactly. And I could never ask Sam to give that up, so I have to consider perhaps coming back, right?”
Muriel folds her hands on the table. “Dreams can bloom in more than one field, honey. You just gotta decide which dirt feels like yours.”
I stare at her, throat tight. “And what if both fields offer me something I want?”
“Then you got yourself a good problem.” She chuckles, the sound rough with age and affection. “You’ve always followed your heart and your passion, Penny Bean. Time to decide which one’s drivin’ the bus.”
I manage a small laugh, but it trembles. “You’re not making this any easier.”
“Wasn’t tryin’ to. Now go on. I think you need to talk to Sam about this.”
“No,” I say, pushing to my feet. “I’ll do it after I get off.”
“I’ve got it covered here,” Muriel says, staring at me in a way that makes me afraid to argue.
“But—”
“But nothing. I’ll just oversee things. I even promise I’ll sit my butt in a chair and not move around.”
I note there are currently only three customers in the diner and we have two waitresses on shift.
“Okay, but if I hear you lifted one finger, I’m going to take you home and chain you to the couch.” I lean down and kiss her cheek. “Try not to start a mutiny while I’m gone.”
Muriel waves her hand. “Too late. I already told Floyd he could bus tables if he stops flirtin’ with the customers.”
?
I’d texted Sam that I was coming over, so he’s on the front porch swing waiting for me when I pull in. I smile when I see the laptop balanced on his knees and wonder how much of his writing he actually does at his desk. He looks up as I park, his smile slow and easy across his face.
He puts the computer aside and stands up to meet me at the top porch step. “I know we had plans later tonight, so I’ll admit… I’m a little worried as to what has you leaving the diner early to come talk to me.”
“Something big’s happened and you’re the one person in the world I want to share it with,” I say.
I climb the steps and he tugs me into his arms. His kiss is soft, grounding, and it steals my words.
When he lifts his head, he smiles. “Okay… lay it on me.”
“I got a call from DC.”
He searches my face, trying to figure out what that means. “Good news?”
“Yes. Scary news, but good. They offered me a promotion—Senior Policy Director. More money, national projects, lots of travel, the works.”
His eyes widen and warm with pride. “Penny, that’s amazing.”
“It is.” My voice comes out small. “It’s everything I’ve worked for. But the first thing I thought about was you.”
Sam’s hand tightens around mine and he pulls me over to the swing. “I’d be lying if I said I don’t love hearing that. But I can see I’m part of what’s causing you some consternation.”
I sink onto the seat and he joins me. “It should be a no-brainer, right? Like… I should have leapt at the job. I should have said yes right away. But I didn’t. I asked for some time to think about it.”
“What’s the dilemma?” he asks, gently holding my hand.
“The dilemma is that I find myself weighing options. I’m not going to lie…
I was thinking about staying.” Sam blinks at me in surprise, and he can’t hide the sparkle of happiness that brings him.
“I’ve been trying to figure out how to make this home again and is there a place for me other than at your side.
What kind of work would I do? Where would I live?
Would I be happy walking away from a career I love?
But this job offer… it changes everything. ”
He looks out at the yard before bringing his gaze back to me. “I can’t be the reason you turn down the job, Penny. I’ll never be the reason you give up dreams. Take the job if it feels right. We’ll figure out the rest.”
“Even if that means long distance?”
“Even if. We’re adults. We can handle miles.”
“Can we?” I ask, slight panic in my voice. “Because connection comes from proximity. And I’m going to be traveling all the time. I feel like this has doom written all over it as far as we’re concerned.”
“I’m mobile, you know,” he says thoughtfully. “I could come visit you in DC when you’re not traveling. It would be something.”
“Yeah,” I murmur, my gaze sliding out to stare at his front yard. I’m trying to envision what that would look like, but for the life of me, I just can’t. It doesn’t seem like enough for either of us.
“Look,” he says, and my head swings his way. “You and I have plenty of time to figure us out. I’m not going anywhere. But I suspect you don’t have time on this job. You can’t let this opportunity go because we’re unsure of what we may or may not be. You need to accept the offer.”
I pay careful attention to how that makes me feel, and it’s overwhelming relief that he’s taking the decision out of my hands.
Because while I’ve been wrestling with how I make this right with me and Sam, I was afraid I would sacrifice a part of myself.
A wave of calm rushes through me. Sam recognizes it and insists I stay true to myself.
I heave out a relieved breath. “Okay. I will. Accept the job, that is.”
Sam flashes me a smile and while I see a whole lot of pride and happiness, I’m notching a dream, I still glimpse the sadness underneath. This wonderful little bubble we’ve been living in the last few weeks is bursting.
Standing from the swing, Sam pulls me up, straight into an all-encompassing hug. “How about we drive into Raleigh tonight? Grab dinner somewhere that doesn’t serve hushpuppies?”
I laugh, a little watery but real. “That sounds perfect.”
As I wait for Sam to put away his laptop, I press my hand to the railing, grounding myself in the wood beneath my fingers. It hits me then—how something can feel right and wrong all at once. I’m thrilled, terrified, proud and already mourning the version of us that existed before this decision.