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Darryl smiled, watching her hightail it after Mason who was beelining toward the pastry table.
Amelia rolled her eyes. “He takes after his aunts. He loves sugar. I don’t know why she denies him such deliciousness.”
Penelope laughed and waved at Amelia before she walked away.
“He’s a handful,” Penelope said, turning back to Darryl. “But damn is he a cute handful.”
“Like someone else I know too.” He winked.
Penelope gave a sweet smile before turning back to Clara, who snatched her son up the moment he shoved a donut into his mouth. “A fast handful too,” he said with a dry laugh.
“She’s a good mom, though,” Penelope said. “I don’t know how she does it all on her own.”
“Single moms are the strongest women I know.” His mother included.
Penelope nodded then packed up another Crock-Pot.
“No kid or mother deserves a deadbeat father,” Darryl added, staring at Mason, whose cheeks looked like a hamster’s full of food. Every time Darryl looked at the kid, he felt like he was looking at his best childhood friend. “I once thought my buddy Sully was Mason’s father.”
Penelope turned to him with wide eyes. “Clara’s ex?”
Darryl nodded. “Mason looks like him.” Had from day one, and that still hadn’t changed. “I confronted Clara once to see if Sullivan wasn’t doing the right thing by her. I was ready to go to Boston and knock some damn sense into him, if that was the case.”
“What did Clara say?” Penelope asked.
Darryl recalled that tense conversation. “Clara told me that Mason wasn’t Sullivan’s. That she’d been with someone she had met right after they broke up, and he didn’t want a child.”
“What a bastard,” Penelope clipped.
Darryl watched Clara go down to one knee and talk sternly to the boy. He still wasn’t convinced the child wasn’t Sullivan’s. Mason had his friend’s eyes.
“You don’t believe her, do you?”
Darryl jerked his gaze to Penelope, finding her watching him closely. “It’s not my place to believe or not believe her.” He’d told Sullivan about Mason, not once, but twice, and Sullivan had called Clara. Darryl didn’t know the outcome of that call. It wasn’t his business to ask. “She’s a great mom,” Darryl added. “He’s a lucky kid. That’s all that matters.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Penelope gave him a sweet smile. After a long look, she finally exhaled deeply. “Yes.”
He frowned, trying to catch up. “Yes?”
“Yes, I’ll go with you tonight.”
“Ah.” He took her hand and tugged her close. “I won over the Christmas movies, then?”
That addictive heat returned to her eyes in a flash, and she pressed her warmth against him, all soft and perfect. “Definitely.”
By the time evening rolled around, Penelope had finished her laundry, had dinner with her cousins, and packed an overnight bag. She got momentarily distracted by a text from her mother.
Your gifts to the kids haven’t arrived yet. Did you get them to the post office on time?
Penelope found the tracking number and confirmed the order before texting back. Delivery says it’ll arrive by tomorrow morning.
Her mother’s response was immediate. You really shouldn’t leave these things until the last minute, Penelope.
Penelope didn’t respond after that. What would she say? First, they were her half-siblings that she barely even knew. They probably wouldn’t even recognize her face out of a picture or know her name. She was like that aunt that only visited every handful of years. And second, the only one who gave her anything for Christmas was her father, and that was money she never wanted. She still had yet to figure out why she needed to participate in Christmas when they made sure not to involve her. Mom obviously wanted to look like she had a perfect happy family to her friends, no doubt.
Her heart clenched tight, not allowing her mother’s coldness to affect her. Most times, Penelope could shut out that pain. She’d learned to turn off her emotions and carry on with life. When her internal protective wall fell, she ended up skating drunk on fountains. Not wanting to let her good mood become spoiled, Penelope turned off her phone and ignored the world. Most of all, her family.
It wasn’t long after that Darryl had gathered her for their night away, and when she slid onto the passenger seat of his truck, she was sick of the word thank you. Sure, her heart warmed knowing she had brought the people of River Rock so much joy, but she wasn’t expecting to be highlighted on River Rock’s Twitter page. And when she’d folded laundry that afternoon, hiding from the world to catch her breath, the townsfolk stopped in to say thanks. Apparently, River Rock was the town of nice people. Which she guessed shouldn’t be a surprise. The town was small and quaint, and everyone seemed to know each other, but that was just the opposite of what she knew. Most of the people she knew were transient workers or tourists who never stayed for more than a few days. And she knew why she was drawn to those types of people—having no one in her life permanently was way less scary than letting people in.
