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“Hey there. Nora was convinced you’d be here tonight. Are you staying for dinner?”
“Yep, I helped your mom get everything going. We’re having pulled pork sandwiches and vegetables.”
“Yummy! That sounds deeeelicious!” Nora squeals.
“Dinner is ready,” Mom yells.
I wait to see where Penelope sits, but when she doesn’t grab a seat, I wonder if she’s doing the same thing.
“Come on Daddy, sit down, dinner is ready, didn't you hear Grandma?”
Out of the corner of my eye, Penelope covers her mouth with her hand, presumably to hide a laugh.
“Yes I did, bossy,” I say, taking a seat next to Nora.
Penelope sits down across from me. I don’t know how I’m going to focus on my dinner when I have her eyes right there.
Great.
Once the food is on the table, everyone digs in. Comfortable conversations flow around the table. Three of the guests at the inn have also joined us, and Nora is telling them all about Christmas in Winterberry.
The way she talks, it makes this place seem magical. And at this moment, as much as I was hesitant to move back here when we did, I couldn’t be happier to be here.
Nora’s eyes light up when she talks about the snow, the reindeer at the Christmas Tree Lighting, the Christmas Eve Ball, and all the decorations around town.
I take my eyes off of her and catch Penelope appearing completely entranced by Nora and her infectious happiness. I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips.
As everyone continues to eat, there’s a lull in conversation, and I take the opportunity to ask Penelope about going to the bar. My hands start sweating,again, and my stomach starts churning.
“Hey Penelope,” I say, barely above a whisper.
She looks up from her plate, and for a second, I’m not sure I can speak. My tongue feels ten times too big for my mouth and my lips won’t seem to work. Clearing my throat, I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans.
“Mom said she could watch Nora on Friday night after the parade so me, you, Sally, and Dominick can go to the bar I was telling you about. Does that sound good to you? If you… don’t have other plans. Or if your car… isn’t ready yet.”
What the hell? Why can’t I speak a full sentence?
My mom stares at me awkwardly and my dad tries not to laugh as he pretends to wipe his face with a napkin.
After a few seconds of silence that seems to stretch on, she finally says, “That sounds great!”
“Awesome, we can share an Uber. If that’s okay with you.”
“Yep, that’s perfect. I haven’t been to a small-town bar in so many years.”
“Oh, this one is an experience,” I tell her, starting to feel more confident. See, this is no big deal. I’ve got this. “You’re in for arealtreat.”
Her flush deepens, and I’m beginning to think it happens when she’s nervous or excited. I try not to read into it.
Ring… ring… ring…
The phone at the front desk rings, and I curse under my breath.
“I’ll get it!” Mom says as she gets up and rushes to the front. Guests call that number to book their rooms, and she’s usually the one to answer it. “Sure, one second, Ben,” she says into the phone.
Why is Ben calling the inn during dinner time? His shop is closed by now, like every other store and restaurant in town.
“Penelope, it’s Ben for you,” Mom calls. “He has news about your car.”
