Losing Penny (28 page)

Bull’s-eye for Richard.

“…donkey basketball.” Melinda looked at him
with eager, hopeful eyes, but the two words he heard didn’t make
sense coming from Melinda.

“If you’ll play—”

Boom. Penny, outer rim.

“I’ll send
Geared!
to press as is,”
Melinda continued. “But if not,…well there’s probably a whole lot
of revisions that needs to be done. Hours and hours of rewriting.”
She leaned forward and placed her hand on his arm. “I’ll monopolize
the remainder of your summer.”

Blackmail. Drake looked down into her warm
brown eyes. If he could love Melinda his life would be easier in so
many ways. She would share her trust fund, but he’d spend the rest
of his life in and out of Don Marx’s golf cart. A tremor went down
his spine.

“Let me get this straight,” Drake said. “If I
play basketball with donkeys, you’ll accept
Geared!
as
is.”

Melinda laughed, delighted. “You don’t play
basketball with the donkeys—” A confused look chased across her
face. “Well, maybe you do. I think I’ll need to watch it to get
it.”

“Why?” Drake asked.

“Because the whole donkey basketball thing is
hard to picture.”

“That’s not what I meant. Why do you want me
to play basketball with donkeys?”

Melinda got a dreamy, mysterious look in her
eye. “Will you do it or not?”

“I win!” Richard boomed. He set down his
pistol and strode across the lawn to the bull targets.

Penny just raised her eyebrows. “I told you,
this isn’t going to settle anything.”

“You wouldn’t have said that if you had won,”
Richard said.

Penny shrugged and turned to Drake.

He smiled at her and said the inconceivable,
“I’m going to play donkey basketball. Do you want to watch?”

Animals are good for your health. Caring for
a pet can help lower blood pressure, lessen anxiety, boost your
immunity, and ease loneliness.

From
Losing Penny and Pounds

The orange and
purple lights hanging from the tents cast a surreal glow in the
dwindling daylight. A light wind toyed with Penny’s hat. A few
people stared at her, as if trying to see the real Penny behind the
sunglasses, but most concerned themselves with weightier matters
like the pie eating contest, the egg toss, or the three-legged
race.

“Remember, our flight leaves at eight,”
Richard told her, looking at his watch.

“I just want to say goodbye,” Penny said, her
thoughts jumbled. Moving into Richard’s high-security pent house
made sense. He had solved her problem so simply, so easily, just
like he had been doing her entire life. Moving to New York would
turn her whole life on its ear, but she would still be near
Richard, and hopefully Rose, and she would be safe in a pet
friendly, high-security building in a way that she could never be
in her apartment that overlooked the canyon.

The band on the pavilion finished their poor
imitation of The Beach Boys, and a booming female announced that
“the contestants” needed to line up behind the snow cone
machine.

Penny pulled her hat a bit lower and adjusted
her sunglasses, but she still felt conspicuous. According to
Andrea, it didn’t take much to make big news in a small town, and
even she had to admit a disguised cooking show hostess was more
interesting than a chili cook-off winner.

“I don’t even know these people, but I’m
going to miss them,” Penny told Richard as they headed toward the
sound of crunching ice. “Isn’t that strange? I don’t know them, but
I want to know them.” She realized with a pang that she wanted to
belong in Rose Arbor. She didn’t want to belong in a penthouse in
Richard’s building. “Tell me about the apartment again.”

Richard rattled off a long and detailed list
of amenities, but Penny knew that for her brother, the apartment’s
biggest selling feature was its location. And an ideal location for
Richard meant proximity to her.

She spotted Drake and Trevor rounding the
corner with helmets tucked under their arms. Richard stiffened, and
jerked his head in their direction.

“Penny!” Andrea called and waved from across
the green.

“My friend, Andrea,” Penny said to Richard as
she returned the wave. “She owns the Bluebird Café, one of the two
restaurants in town.”

When Andrea caught up to them she said, “It
feels so strange to call you that. Maggie suited you.”

“Well, I’m really Penny, and this is my
brother, Richard.”

Richard nodded at Andrea and she smiled up at
him. “Are you going to the donkey basketball game?”

“It’s pretty hard to say goodbye if Drake is
sitting on a donkey,” Penny said to Richard.

“Maybe it will be easier.” Richard looked at
his watch. “Okay, I’ll pick you up in two hours. Keep your phone
on.”

Andrea watched Richard walk away. “Your
brother doesn’t like donkey basketball?”

“Or Drake. In fact, he really doesn’t like
people, which is crazy. He should be moving to Montana or Nebraska,
not New York City.”

Andrea cocked her head. “Then why is he?”

“The power of love, I guess. His fiancée, or
his ex-fiancée—I’m not sure which since he won’t talk about her—is
moving to New York. She’s a fashion designer.”

Penny worried a hangnail on her thumb while
she followed Andrea toward the high school. This summer had been
like all the other summers she’d spent at the beach house—an
interlude in her real life. Real life meant Richard, Rose, Aunt
Mae, her blog, her cookbook, and her show. Penny’s stomach twisted.
She would miss Drake. She liked having him around. She liked
kissing him. No, she
loved
kissing him, and she wasn’t sure
what that meant. She needed more time with Drake to find out.

“The real question—the one most important to
me and to Drake—is why are you going with him?”

“Since the grand announcement in yesterday’s
news, everyone, and that probably includes the Lurk, knows that I’m
not traveling the world and I’m hiding in Rose Arbor.” She would be
safe in Richard’s building, under his watchful eye, exactly where
she’d been her entire life.

“Attention Frontier Friends,” an announcer
boomed over the loud speaker. “All players please line up behind
the stage near the amphitheater.”

He wished he knew how to comfort his mother,
but because he knew that nothing he could say would ease her pain,
he stayed on his side of the wall, counting stars and finding
solace in the moon.

From
Hans and the Sunstone

“Drake,” Melinda
said, smiling, “I want you to meet Gertrude and Claude.”

Claude and Gertrude had matching hair color.
The blond tresses looked a little better on Gertrude, but after a
moment of consideration, Drake had to admit that it was because
Claude’s hair wasn’t as thick and lush as the donkey’s. The beauty
of Claude’s body, his muscle-ripped arms, shoulders and chest—all
clearly visible through his thin t-shirt—and his dark brown eyes,
so startling compared to his fair hair, so outshone what was on his
head that it made comparison to the donkey laughable. Other than
her beautiful mane, the donkey had nothing going for her. She had
buckteeth, loose lips, a boney body, and a nasty glint in her
eye.

Drake turned to Trevor. “Why are we doing
this?”

“I’m in it for the Bluebird Café. I don’t
know why you’re here.”

Melinda spoke up. “Marx’s Outreach Program is
going lend the Bluebird Café money for a major remodel and a
marketing campaign.” She turned to Claude and fluttered her
eyelashes. “I’m president of the Marx foundation, and we like to
help small businesses get a new start.” Claude looked
impressed.

Drake sighed at the exact same moment
Gertrude blew a warm, oaty breath in his direction. She eyed him
and he stared back, convinced the animal could read his thoughts.
Gertrude knew that Drake had been blackmailed into ride her, and
Drake knew that Gertrude would be thrilled to trample him.
I’m
riding on you for a summer free of editing and revising,
Drake
thought.

And I’m letting you for the thrill of
kicking you in the head and trampling over your precious parts
,
Gertrude’s eyes said.

Drake wanted to ask Trevor why Melinda was
president of Marx’s corporation, but one look at Trevor’s hunched
shoulders and he bit back his question. Question
s
. He had
multiple questions, but now wasn’t the time to broadcast them.

“Go Trevor! Go Drake!” Andrea called from the
stand. Her silver hoop earrings glinted in the gym’s harsh lighting
as she waved.

A glimmer sparked in Trevor’s eye, and Drake
understood. Trevor liked Andrea. He turned to Melinda to see if she
knew, but Melinda had the sensitivity of a turtle wrapped in her
own shell of self-importance. He wondered what Don Marx would think
about Trevor and Andrea or Melinda and Claude. Drake looked around
and saw Don and his own mother sitting on the front row.

It was odd that they were both here. For one
thing, they didn’t belong together, and for another, neither of
them belonged in a high school gym with sweaty men and smelly
donkeys.

Drake looked for Penny. She stood in the
bleachers beside Andrea. Their gazes locked. She lifted her lips in
a small smile and raised her hand to wave. An indefinable emotion
washed over him.

Drake knew words. He used to help Blair
collect them for the library’s word of the day. He
liked
words. He
loved
language. He liked manipulating it, bending
it, and creating new phrases, but as he held the reins of a cranky
donkey named Gertrude, he couldn’t define his emotions. Words
failed him.

Part of him wanted to ditch the donkey and
vault up the bleachers to tell Penny that he loved her and that
he’d been stupid for being so touchy about his work. He wanted to
tell her that she could rewrite all of his poems and all of his
prose if she’d just stay. Maybe they could rent the beach house
from Aunt Mae for not only the summer, but for…forever. He could
commute to the university and she could collect recipes, blog,
write cookbooks. Maybe she could even move her cooking show to a
studio in Seattle.

An overweight man in a black and white
striped referee uniform motioned for the players and donkeys to
listen. “I want a good, clean fight,” he said. “The rules are
donkey dumb. You gotta be on your donkey to shoot the ball. If
there’s a loose ball, you can get off your donkey to get it, as
long as your donkey is cooperating.”

A player, who looked too overweight to be
carried by a donkey, smiled and knowingly waved a carrot. Drake
shot Trevor a quick glance to see if he had brought a carrot, but
Trevor had his attention locked on Andrea.
We’ve lost
already,
and all because of root vegetables,
Drake
thought.

“Each team has four riders and one center.
The center stands in the middle of the court acting as a relay—no
leaving the jump circle unless your team scores. Got it?”

No, Drake didn’t get it, and he didn’t think
he wanted to, but Melinda shoved his helmet into his hands. A
whistle blew and the players climbed onto their donkeys. He sat on
Gertrude, who did a donkey dance. Drake had never been much of a
dancer, but he could learn.

The ball hit Drake in the chest and he caught
it easily.

“Woo-hoo, Drake!” Andrea and Penny called
from the stands.

Drake passed the ball to Trevor and the
momentum carried him right over Gertrude’s head. As he sailed over
her ears he had a moment of clarity. Drake realized that everything
with Penny had been nothing more than a fantasy and would ever
remain so if he didn’t tell her he was sorry and beg her to stay.
And that might be difficult to do while staring dazed at the gym
ceiling, but he could certainly get up and try.

We all have our own unique trigger foods. A
trigger food is anything that can stir us to poor choices. Your
body recognizes or associates certain foods as rewards, and over
indulging can be as debilitating and mind numbing as drug
abuse.

From
Losing Penny and Pounds

The ref called
halftime. Time to meet Richard and time to leave. Penny picked up
her bag and slung it across her shoulder. It felt unusually heavy,
so Penny looked inside and discovered an unfamiliar wallet. “Odd,”
she murmured.

Penny held it up for Andrea to see. “Did you
see someone put this in my bag?”

Andrea took her gaze off of Trevor long
enough to reply. “No,” she shook her head. “Is there ID?”

Penny flipped the wallet open and saw nothing
but a wad of bills.

“There’s a lost and found by the west gate,”
Andrea said, cocking her head toward the exit
.

Holding the wallet in front of her, Penny
pushed through the crowd. She felt a little like Alice in
Wonderland. When she reached the lost and found stand, the lights
flickered then died with an electronic sigh. The park disappeared
into darkness. The Ferris wheel cars rocked, a few children began
to cry, and a coyote howled in the distance. The moon and stars did
their best to shine through the fog blowing in from the coast.
Penny stood and listened as she tried to get her bearings.
Somewhere to her left was the high school gym. The lost and found
stand was to her right. All around her children and adults stumbled
in the dark. Someone—a tall, solid figure in a hoodie—bumped into
Penny.

“Pardon me,” he mumbled.

Penny stepped away and found shelter beneath
a slim maple tree. She couldn’t find the information booth, but she
did see someone dressed in a uniform. She moved back into the crowd
then felt someone tugging on her wrist. Believing it was a mistake
she said, “Excuse me,” but the hand gripping her wrist didn’t
loosen. In the dark she could only see that the man was wearing a
traditional, double-breasted white chef’s coat. She tried to shake
her hand loose, but his fingers tightened as he pulled her to a
crop of outbuildings. Penny opened her mouth to scream, but the man
must have been expecting this. He shoved a cloth reeking of
antiseptic into her mouth then yanked her behind the restrooms.