Page 4 of Love, Untangled

“You’re the spitting image of her. Garland Davis was a lovely woman, inside and out. One I considered a decent friend. And she would have more than supported you in this endeavor. She never could stand a bully. She detested Leon even more than I do. Only person she disliked more…” She trailed off, pursing her lips before shaking her head.

“I don’t think hitting him was smart. I mean, can’t he sue me or something? And I don’t know how to care for an animal.” I can barely care for myself.

Pen didn’t say that aloud, but she’d been worrying about it the entire time they traveled across the country toward this small North Carolina coastal town. She couldn’t even spring for a motel room or a campsite—not that she’d had a tent—so she was exhausted and well on her way to ripe, even with the quick paper-towel baths she’d taken in a variety of public restrooms each time she had to gas up her little hybrid.

Well, that wasn’t exactly true—Pen had been surviving for years. Surviving, not thriving. Barely living, especially since she’d been supporting her mother for the past few years.

But today was the first of May—a day of possibilities, of renewal. She’d left her mother and that previous life behind. She had a home, a new friend, and the opportunity to grow her business.

She no longer had to worry about her mother, and she shook off the remnants of worry that clung to her whenever Pen thought about her mom. Her mother’s willingness to steal from Pen, after she’d given up her dream of college to help support her, had been the last straw. Pen had overlooked so much, from the neglect to the lies to the questionable “friends,” but stealing from her own daughter?

That had been a step too far.

“You’re a hero in my book, Penelope,” Birdie said, drawing Pen back to the present. “I know everyone in town and the surrounding area. If you need a favor, you just holler. Me and the gals are always at Brewed with a View.”

“I couldn’t possibly impose…”

Pen thrilled at the meandering streets of neat homes that spilled down toward Boardwalk Boulevard. The town didn’t seem much changed from her youthful memories. From here, she caught a glimpse of the sparkling white gazebo that sat in the middle of the central green. But it was the courthouse that lorded over the crisp green grass and eclectic mix of shops that slid out toward the bay. Her nana used to say that Cinnamon Bay was a quaint mash-up of Kiawah Island and Charleston.

“You wouldn’t be an imposition, dear. Like I said, your grandmother was a friend and so are you, by extension. Plus, you clocked Leon and he’s a menace. That puts you right in my book. This is my stop. Just let me out here so I can burn this branch in my fire pit. Then I’ll call Hattie about my flat. We’ll have to run back to get my car.”

Once again, the older woman left Pen’s head spinning. “I…well, thank you, I guess. For not telling on me.”

Birdie waved her hand. “Same goes. It was a pleasure to ride with you, Penelope. And it may be a good idea to lie low for a few days.” She waited, eyebrows raised. “Pen, please.”

Pen lifted her shoulders, letting them slide back as she raised her chin. “I’d love to talk about my grandmother sometime.”

Birdie eyed her speculatively. “Yes. I’d like that too, dear. You just come find me.” She hopped out of the car. “Go on. No reason for you to be out while Leon’s on the prowl.” With a slam of the door, the older woman trotted toward the front door of the large cottage with its glossy green door painted to match the shutters that lined the front windows nestled deep in the porch. The colors offset the weathered shingles and gave the place a homey feel.

Pen pressed the gas, heading toward the only place she’d ever truly felt loved. And safe.

“I always thought the farm was the nicest place in the world. Maybe because it was the one place my mother never wanted to visit. Sure wish I hadn’t run into Leon though.” Pen sighed. “And I really hope he doesn’t come looking for you.”

Alpaca Man continued to rest his muzzle on her shoulder.

“I know you were scared. So was I, but I won’t let anyone hurt you again,” Pen said softly. That was her promise, one she hadn’t made back in California. But now, after a few days with the alpaca, she understood that he was hers to care for, to love.

And love him she did.

Pen sighed as she drove past the quaint shops and out into the surrounding fields and spare coastal woods. A part of her thrilled at returning to her favorite place, though another ached at her grandmother’s passing. She hadn’t had enough time with her—Pen’s mother rarely brought her to Cinnamon Bay after her father died. Still, those visits with her nana were the best of Pen’s life

Pen sighed and the alpaca did too. About five minutes later, she saw the sign to the farm. Good thing too, because Alpaca Man’s head was causing her shoulder to ache, and pins and needles to shoot down to her fingertips. Pen slowed down, squinting to find the turn. There it was, overgrown and in desperate need of weeding.

That was what happened when the place went for months without any upkeep. Pen bit her lip against the sadness bubbling in her chest. She would have come right away the first moment she became aware of her grandmother’s illness. But her mother kept it from her, and that was a hurt that would never truly heal.

Still, Pen knew she’d be okay, eventually. She planned to have a rich, full life that didn’t include her mother’s lies and hurtful behaviors. Not ever again.

Pen was free.

Free, finally, to live.

Chapter 2

Penelope

“Whoever said wrangling alpacas was easy never wrangled a damn alpaca!”

Even though it was evening, a few hours since she’d dropped off the older lady at her home, and the sun slid toward the horizon, the stickiness of the day remained like a warm blanket even here in the shade of the apple trees. Neat rows of the trunks splayed out in either direction and a leafy green canopy caused dapples of light to hit different parts of Pen or Alpaca Man. She could just make out the green shingled roof of her nana’s house but none of the ramshackle barn Pen used to love to play in as a child.

---