Page 63 of Penelope in Retrograde

Marie and I lock eyes.

“I’ll let Mr.Butler know it’s time to eat.”

“Mr.Butler?” He giggles. “When did my dad get here?”

“I’ll let your father know that you’ll need a minute.” Marie nods before slowly backing into the house.

By the time I convince Martin that his father is not hiding in my parents’ backyard and lure him back into the house with the promise of cornbread and pie, dinner is already underway. I plop Martin down at the end of the table as far away from my father as possible, and I take the spot next to him.

My phone buzzes with a text the moment I sit down, and the name Martin flashes across my screen. Of course, I know that this text isn’t actually from Martin. It’s from Smith, whose number I mislabeled, but Martin, who happens to be looking over my shoulder, does not.

“Holy shit,” Martin announces during an unfortunate lull in the conversation. He points at my phone screen. “How did I do that?”

He garners a few curious looks from around the table, but none quite as obvious as Smith’s.

“Eat your cornbread,” I whisper through a clenched smile.

I hold my phone underneath the table and open the text.

Martin: We need to talk.

Penny: Now isn’t a good time.

Martin: Before dessert?

Penny: IDK

I make a show of putting my phone on silent and turning it facedown on the table as Marie brings out the salad course. I shovel a few bites into my mouth and keep an eye on Martin to make sure he eats something too. My understanding of how marijuana affects the body is limited at best, but at least if Martin is eating, he isn’t talking.

A walnut flies across the table and hits me on the cheek. Across the table, Phoebe points at my phone and motions for me to turn it over. She’s about as subtle as a mime on acid, but my parents don’t notice. They’re too busy listening to my doppelgänger to realize that a quarter of the table is completely stoned.

I grab my phone and once again make sure to keep it out of Martin’s view.

Phoebe: R U hi 2?

Oh, Phoebe. I only wish I could record this moment and savor it later on when I’m not in charge of stopping a grown man from making an ass out of himself in front of his boss.

Penny: No

“Do you smell that, Silvia?” My father lifts his nose in the air like a bloodhound trying to catch a scent. “I think that skunk is back again. You know, we’ve had the worst time with skunks lately.”

My mother’s face turns as red as a brick. “No, Carter. I don’t smell anything.”

It’s the worst lie ever. The dead can smell the weed on Martin’s jacket.

“Really? You don’t smell anything?” My father appears utterly befuddled. “Mother, what about you?”

Half the table shifts their attention to Nana Rosie.

“Oh, it’s definitely a skunk,” Nana Rosie replies without breaking a sweat. “I was talking with Alice next door, and she thinks there’s a family of them squatting in the neighborhood.”

“Do skunks normally travel with their families?” My mother shoots Nana Rosie a sideways look. “They always seemed like solitary animals to me.”

“Of course they have families,” Nana Rosie fires back. “Do you think baby skunks just fall from the sky?”

“Like ninjas,” Martin says with a mouthful of cornbread.

“What was that, Martin?” my father asks.

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