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She finally turns it around, and the fantasy YA book really is perfection. Her heroine shines in silver armor, with prominent elf ears, and the font is exactly what she wanted.
Tears prick my eyes, but I quickly blink them away. Gross emotions, but when I look across at hers, they’re glistening too.
“Would it be weird to say I’m proud of you?” I whisper, just in case she hates it.
Luckily, I get a rare smile. It’s sheepish and adorable.
“Not weird. I never would have attempted this without your help.”
I shrug, choked with emotion I’m too scared to show. She’s probably going to roll her eyes at me. I would.
Clearing my throat, I walk over to the front display case I have set up for her. A plastic dagger, a crown, and lots of ivy surround a three-tier stand. She hands me the copy in hand but turns away and runs back to the box. With great pride, I set the first book at the very top. We set out the rest exactly how she likes it, and my type-A heart loves how similar to me she is.
When she seems satisfied, she rolls her eyes and climbs off the large wooden platform stage set against the glass. My stoic mini-me has yet to smile again, and we stand staring at the back of the display. I grab her arm, pulling her outside to admire her work through the window. Then it happens. A small gasp, and a smile breaks across her face.
“I can’t believe it.”
“Believe it, babe. You deserve all the feels and glory right now. You worked your ass off for a year. You did that, Pen. That story—that’s going to be a great escape for so many—is because of you.”
At my words, she turns into me, pulling me for a hug. I’m so taken by surprise, it takes a moment to hug her back. Penelope is quiet for the most part, an introvert like me, and has never hugged me before. Squeezing her back, I realize this is a rare moment for us that might never happen again.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Anytime, for anything at all. Promise.” I choke out my mushy words, and she soon pulls away to smile at the display case again.
The pride in her eyes makes my heart melt. I helped that happen. It’s a Christmas miracle, I think to myself.
“Where are your moms? I thought for sure you would want them to be here.” I look at her expectantly. I’ve been encouraging her since the day we met and she told me she wrote a YA fantasy but was never going to publish. I understand the nerves, but I still don’t feel right about her not telling her family. She promised they know where she is when she comes here, and I have to trust her.
Her heavy sigh and fallen smile tell me enough.
“You have to tell them. From what you’ve told me, they sound loving and supportive. Why wouldn’t you want to show them this?” I gesture to the display. “They’re going to cry with pride, Pen.”
She nods. “I’ll tell them. And Dad too. I promise. I just…I’m still in shock.” She turns her head from the display to look at me. “I did it.”
“You did good,” I tell her. Funny, she’s never mentioned having her dad in her life before.
“So, I was thinking about advertising and setting up an author signing for you. Nothing big, but something to pull readers in.”
Penelope’s eyes widen like saucers, and she shakes her head. “No way!”
“Oh, come on. How is anyone to know how greatEnchanted Swordsis if they don’ t know it exists?”
“They don’t. I don’t know. You didn’t say anything about people.”
“I know. Ew, right? Just think about it. Blair even said she would promote you on her channels, so that’s another avenue we can go. But you have to tell your family. I think if they find out from someone else—or worse, see your book before you tell them—they will be heartbroken. They’ll want to be a part of this next chapter in your life. You should let them.”
She nods. Penelope’s a big fan of Blair Honeycutt, who just so happens to be an established YA fantasy author and good friends with Fitzy. I ran into her at the Santa auction and told her all about Penelope. When she can, she’s going to come by to meet her and sign a few books, but she has a toddler, so I imagine she never gets to do anything anymore.
Again, the thought of having kids enters and quickly exits my brain. Nope, not the life for me. I really need to put my feelings for a certain single dad in check, unless I’m really willing to commit just as much to his kid as I am to him. That’s a heavy thought I’ll save for later. This is Pen’s moment, and I need to be present in it.
“Gosh, I feel like it’s a pop champagne moment, but I can’t give you booze yet. How many more years?”
“Two,” she says with an evil grin.
“Nice try, but your math is off by three years, giving you five years to wait, miss.” I boop her nose affectionately, and she just laughs. No rolling of eyes. I take the win.
We snap a million photos in front of the window before finally catching a chill and heading inside.
