Page 16 of Love, Untangled

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The next morning, Pen drove into town, thankful for the time to think. Carlo caused intense reactions from her—ones she wasn’t used to or well suited to handle. Now that she’d finished the coat and sorted out the basics of her living situation, getting the months’ worth of dust cleaned up, Pen was ready to fill her pantry and fridge. Thankfully, her nana liked to freeze as much as she liked to preserve so Pen had lived off the variety of food options the past couple of weeks. But the freezer’s supply of home-baked bread, soups, and meats was depleted as were the large jars of oats, flour, sugar, pasta, and rice Pen found in the over-size pantry.

The drive into town didn’t take long, and she enjoyed the fresh air pouring through her windows, scented with pine and the sea. Her body slowly relaxed and she smiled. Pen wasn’t sure what to think just yet about her sexy neighbor, but that was okay. She was still getting a sense of this place she planned to call home.

The three older women accosted Pen the moment she exited her car. She turned toward the grocery store, cutely named Bushel & a Peck, after locking the vehicle and met with a wall of flashy blouses and bangles and three sets of shrewd, knowing eyes.

“Hello, Pen,” Birdie croaked. “Nice to see you again.”

“T-thank you.” Was she in trouble for hitting that man? Had Birdie told on her?

Pen’s shoulders slumped. She glanced around the lot, noting a family heading into a shop down the street, and farther away, toward where she knew the crystalline waters of the bay lapped gently at the shoreline.

“We wanted to see how you’re settling in,” Birdie said. “This is Trixie and that’s Hattie. Consider us your welcoming committee.”

Pen’s gaze snapped back to hers. The older woman smiled, her eyes twinkling as if she knew Pen was wondering if this was her last day of freedom.

Birdie leaned in closer and whispered out of the side of her mouth, “And I wanted to tell you not to head into the grocery store right now. Our mutual acquaintance is there, and you’re going to want to avoid him.”

“Oh, um…” Pen tucked her hair behind her ear.

“Let’s get you a coffee.” Trixie threaded her arm through Pen’s and led her down the street toward the coffee shop, making the many bangles on her arm shimmy and clang. The older women clomped along the wooden sidewalk, reminding Pen of Alpaca Man’s quick steps on the hardwood at her nana’s house.

They loaded Pen into a golf cart, where Pen grasped the sidebar just before Hattie stomped on the gas pedal.

“Have you met your neighbor?” Hattie asked over her shoulder. She veered around cars like she was a Daytona driver.

“Carlo?” Would it be worse if Pen closed her eyes? She tried. Yes, much worse. She gripped the side rail tighter.

“Ah, you have.” Birdie beamed from her seat next to Penelope. “Good. Such a nice young man. Well, when he wants to be.” She frowned a little.

“He’s brought me over bread,” Pen offered. She rubbed a hand over her chest as she remembered the moment. “And he took a splinter out of my hand.”

Hattie screeched to a halt and all three women exchanged looks.

“Isn’t that nice?” Trixie murmured.

Birdie opened the door to the café and ushered Pen in. Unsure how to proceed, she did as bid, and the three women fanned out behind her.

“I’ll get drinks,” Trixie said.

“Come sit over here,” Birdie said, taking Pen’s wrist and tugging her toward a table set in front of the windows.

“Tell us about yourself,” Hattie said, settling in next to Pen, but she kept one eye on the window.

Oh. These women were the town’s gossips. Pen’s neck tightened. Of course her first interaction would be with one of the powerful women in town. She sighed, wishing she’d made a better initial impression.

“Pen here is Garland’s granddaughter. She has an alpaca. He’s very well-behaved,” Birdie said.

“How do you know all that?” Hattie asked, clearly frustrated the other woman had so much knowledge about Pen already.

“She’s the lovely young lady who gave me a lift after my tire went flat.”

“Went flat, my patootie,” Trixie said. “Is he here yet?” She glanced around before settling into her chair.

Pen shook her head, trying to keep up. These women seemed to have multiple conversations at once.

“No, about five minutes, which is why I wanted Penelope here to tell me more about herself,” Hattie said. She leaned her forearms on the table and linked her age-spotted hands. “So where did you live before inheriting the house from Garland? Are you studying?”

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