I open my eyes, and the sounds of the congregation’s murmuring rush back to me. The mind-numbingIt is right to give Him thanks and praise.
I stand up from the pew, ignoring the scandalized scowls, face the double doors, and let go.
ChapterTwenty-Five
STELLA
My six a.m.alarm goes off Monday morning, and I don’t let myself snooze it. Instead, I switch on the lamp, whip off the covers, and walk with my head held high to the bathroom.
A cold water face scrub, one ponytail lift, and a quick change into leggings and a long-sleeved top, and I’m at my bedroom door.
Just not out the door. I grip the knob and take a deep breath. In and out.
Lark is never out there this early. I’ll get breakfast started—it’s going to be blueberry bran muffins, so once I pop them in the oven, I don’t have to hang out in the kitchen until the timer goes off.
I have a lot to do today. And, sure, my heart feels like it’s been shoved through an apple corer, but the worst is over.
It has to be. Right?
Because I’ve never let myself bottom out the way I did yesterday, and I’m not going back there.
Today is a new day.
With that thought, I open my bedroom door and freeze. Because the light is on in the kitchen. Which is beyond weird.
I’m always the first one up. Always.
I bite my lip. When Lark texted me yesterday afternoon to say we needed to talk, I put him off, telling him that I understood and that it could wait. He pressed, but since he wasn’t home, it made the decision easy for me to take Maisy to a matinee showing ofPaw Patrol: The Movie.She was thrilled. I was numb. We grabbed dinner at Taco Sisters, and by the time we got home, Lark was upstairs, and I never left the safe haven of my corner of the house.
If he’s in the kitchen now at the crack of dawn to soothe his conscience and let me down easy, I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep it together.
I press on the swinging door and nudge it forward just enough to peek inside.
“It’s just me,” Pen says around a yawn.
A throw the door wide.
“What the hell?!”
The last time I saw Pen up this early, she was on her way in, not out.
But a quick scan of the kitchen reveals a filling coffee pot and the dry and wet ingredients for my muffins already on the counter. I pre-mixed each last night and stored them in the fridge to make the work faster this morning.
I blink and realize that Pen is holding one of Nanna’s wooden spoons in her hand.
“What the hell,” I say again, softer this time.
My best friend simpers. “Just tryin’ to take care a you.”
Without warning, tears sting my eyes and I give a frustrated sigh. I cried enough yesterday. This has to stop.
“I can do it,” I say, moving to her and taking the spoon.
Pen rests her hip against the counter and crosses her arms. “Good because I was a little worried I’d mess it up.”
In spite of the threatening tears, I eke out a smile. “Not much to mess up.” I gesture to the two glass mixing bowls. “Just combine and stir.”
“Hmmph,” she mutters suspiciously. “There’s gotta be more magic to it than that. I was prepared to burn one of my summoning candles to invoke Estelle’s help.”
