Page 79 of Lucky Penny
I shouldn’t have said that.
All I’ve done is break promises to Penny. To myself. And this one was a stupid one to make.
I’m sure Penny has her reasons for not visiting Danny, ones I’m not even aware of. But I know about all the letters he’s sent her, and I’ve seen his face when I bring up his twin sister. Any animosity from his side is gone. He simply wants to talk to her.
“I know it’s a slim chance…” I hate asking for help. Loathe it. But I’m desperate not to let him down, even if his hopes are low.
I need a win.
“It’s Sunday, Jesse… You really think you can convince Penny to go in less than twenty-four hours?”
Well fuck, when she puts it like that.
“She wouldn’t even listen when I suggested a phone call on Christmas…” Fia sighs. “My sister hasn’t spoken to our brother for like…well, since the summer after graduation, I think. It’s not something she’ll talk about with me. And you know it’s not easy to change her mind.”
“I know.” I steel myself. “I think everyone is just ready to start healing.”
Fia peers down as Tank meanders in, nuzzling his white-and-gray snout into her thigh.
“Is that why you’re back? To try and fix things or something?” She peers up at me, searching.
“Something like that, yeah.”
“Okay.” Fia nods, nostrils flaring. “I’ll help you.”
She doesn’t sound confident, but I grab her small shoulder and give it a squeeze. Relief floods me.
“I can’t even tell you what this means. Thank you.”
She scrunches her nose at me. “I’mnotsaying she’ll go, but I’ll help your case.” She grabs another bagged wreath and pauses before walking out of the shed, glancing back at me. “For the record, I think you’re a really good guy, Jesse.”
I smile at her before she disappears into the yard.
If only everyone thought so.
31
Penny
NOW
It’s notmypink-and-white Christmas decor decking out the house, but the house is nonetheless decked. The tree, while a bit wonky, is covered in ornaments that remind me of my childhood. Homemade, vintage, and just a bit worn.
The windows have wreaths, the banister and fireplace have garland, and the lights are twinkling. Well, most of them anyway.
It took nearly all afternoon to get everything done, and while I may have been bossy, I’m not a complete monster. I decided to cook everyone a hearty dinner. When I told Fia and Jesse that, after they both fell back on the couch, exhausted, Fia threw a skeptical glance my way.
“You sure?” she asked.
“Yes! It’s going to be cooked. Not gourmet,” I replied, leaning into the fridge to see what I’m working with.
The key is to never promise good food. Then, if by some miracle you don’t burn the living hell out of everything, everyone is impressed.
The only thing I can assure will be perfection are the after-dinner espresso martinis.
After much chaos in the kitchen, and probably too much salt, I serve dinner around the coffee table, since it seems no one is willing to move from their spots on the sofa. It’s something Nan would’venever allowed, and in a way, it feels rebellious, like we’re all kids, home alone again.
Snagging a pillow from the chair, I sit between the coffee table and the sofa, exhaling a tired breath and digging into dinner.
