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“Oh, it’s so on,” Darryl said, dropping Penelope’s hand to chase after a now screaming Mason.
Penelope laughed, tucking her hands into her coat pockets then making her way back into the house. She hung her coat on the hook then ventured into the living room and stared out the window, watching Darryl toss a tiny snowball Mason’s way which hit him in the boot. He laughed then threw another snowball Darryl’s way. The kid had an arm.
“You o
kay?”
Penelope sighed and glanced over her shoulder, finding Maisie behind her. “Yes. No.” She shook her head. “I don’t know, to be honest.”
Maisie gave a pouty look then sidled in next to her, wrapping an arm around Penelope. “Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. No one should look as tangled up as you do right now.”
Yeah, tangled up, that explained it. “We went to the hospital today. Darryl’s dog picked up all the kids’ letters to Santa there.”
“Ugh.” Maisie’s arm tightened. “Well, that’s heart-wrenching.”
“Incredibly.” Penelope dropped her head against Maisie’s, staring off at the snow fluttering down from the evergreen tree. “More than anything, being there made me feel like an asshole.”
“An asshole?”
Penelope waited for the lump in her throat to ease up before she explained, “I’ve got this whole life where all I do is run from one place to the next. I’m not doing anything that matters. And here are all these little kids that would give anything for a week, another day. Hell, maybe even another hour.” Her voice cracked, emotion she’d been fighting flooding her. She quickly wiped away a tear. “So, yeah, I felt like an asshole who had the only thing anyone in that hospital wanted—more time.”
Maisie hugged Penelope’s arm, squeezing tight. “I can’t imagine any of that was easy today, but I’m sure that big lug Tyson made the kiddies smile.”
“A lot, actually,” Penelope said, spotting Darryl running across the yard then tucking himself behind one of the trees, a smile on his face. Penelope couldn’t help but wonder if some of this was to shake what he saw today too. “Darryl’s a real sweetheart, isn’t he?”
Maisie sighed, stepping away to sit on the window frame. “Yeah, he changed a little after his divorce, but honestly, I think it was for the better. He seems to have come out of his shell more; he does more for the community and stuff now.”
Penelope kinda got that. Hell, she’d been buying treats and drawing pictures, and she knew why. She was trying to prove to herself she was better than her parents made her out to be, maybe she just didn’t want to admit that. Now thinking it over, she began to wonder if Darryl’s motivation sat somewhere between trying to put on a good face after the pain of a failed marriage and proving to himself that he was nothing like his deadbeat dad.
Mason suddenly found Darryl, and Darryl lurched forward, picking up the boy and slinging him over his shoulder, sending Mason smiling from ear-to-ear. “Well, he’s definitely the nicest guy I’ve ever met,” Penelope stated.
“Me too,” Maisie said. “He’s definitely one of the good ones. I tried to hook up Clara with him.”
Penelope turned her head to the side so fast, it felt like it almost spun around. “You did?”
“Yes,” Clara said, entering the living room carrying a brown paper grocery bag. “And I said no.”
Maisie rolled her eyes, following her sister into the kitchen.
When Penelope joined them, Maisie was already scooping the first thing out of the bag to help Clara put away the groceries. “Only because Darryl was best friends with the-guy-who-shall-not-be-named,” Maisie said. “Which was a million years ago.” She placed the block of butter into the fridge. “All I’m saying is that it’s a shame a man like Darryl is single.”
Penelope looked away, quickly avoiding that conversation, and grabbed the veggies off the counter to stuff in the veggie drawer.
“I quit.”
Every set of eyes turned onto Amelia. Three things happened simultaneously. Maisie burst out laughing. Clara plugged her nose. Penelope bit her lip to not be like Maisie.
“Please tell me that is not what I think it is,” Clara muttered.
“Barf?” Amelia asked, her chest soaking wet with bits of things Penelope didn’t want to identify. “Yes, that’s exactly what it is,” Amelia snapped. “I was helping a group get their drunk-ass friend on the bus after the last tour, and he decided I was a better place to puke on then…I don’t know…the ground.”
Penelope bit her lip harder.
“Wow,” Maisie said seriously. “That blows chunks.”
Clara laughed.
Amelia’s eyes narrowed into slits. “Not funny in the least.”
