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To Nora: You are so beautiful, kind, funny, and I hope you always keep your love of Christmas. I will miss you.
Brent, all I can say is I’m sorry. Hopefully one day you can forgive me.
I hope you have a successful Christmas Eve Ball at the inn and a memorable Christmas. I wish I could be there.
If you’re ever in Manhattan, I would love to see you all.
Love always,
Penelope
Setting the note down, I take a moment to let it sink in, then I pick it up and read it again. I can’t believe this.
I can’t believe that she’s gone. Back to New York. Without even a word.
Slowly standing, I walk into the kitchen clutching the note and stare at my mom from in the doorway.
“She’s really gone,” I say to her back as she whisks eggs.
“Unfortunately, she is. I wish she would’ve stayed. We all forgave her already, right?” She turns around and stares at me.
I nod, unable to speak.
“She didn’t leave a phone number or a way of contacting her,” I say dejectedly. “She says we should come visit if we’re in Manhattan, which never happens, but didn’t leave us a way to find her. Why would she do that?”
I work to keep my face neutral, but my jaw clenches and I furrow my brow. I feel like my mom can see right through me. I guess I suck at being an actor.
“I’m not sure, sweetheart,” she says. “But I guess she felt like she needed to go home. I’m going to finish getting these eggs ready. Do you have a lot of work to do today?”
I take her question as a sign she’s moving on from the conversation. “Yeah, I actually do have some to catch up on,” I say. “I’m going to take Nora shopping tonight for a dress for the ball, do you want to come with us?”
“I’d love to! That sounds fun. Your dad may need your help tonight, figuring out when we should start moving furniture for the ball.”
“Sounds good. After we go shopping, we can come back here for dinner, and I’ll be here to help Dad out with whatever he needs.”
“Great. Want to come pick me up after you get Nora from school?” Moms asks, turning around from the stove with a smile on her face. I can tell it’s forced but I don’t point it out.
Because if we’re being honest, mine is forced too.
“Yep. I think I’ll go to the diner for some breakfast then work from the office today. I need to focus so I can wrap things up before the madness ramps up for Christmas.” I walk over and place a kiss on the top of her head. “I love you, Mom.”
“Love you too, son.” She pats my hand and returns to her cooking.
I head out the back door to my truck. Those damn paparazzi are on the sidewalk again, rapidly screaming questions and snapping photos. I almost forgot they’d been there, waiting for a shot of Penelope.
“Where’s Penelope? Is she coming?” Two of the paparazzi talk over each other, as if battling to get their questions heard. “Are you two dating? How long is she staying here?”
“Hey jerks,” I yell. “Penelope went back to Manhattan. So you can take your cameras and get off the sidewalk.”
Talking amongst themselves, they lower their cameras, but don’t leave.
Don’t they have anything better to do with their lives than follow people around?
Does she always have to deal with this?
No wonder she lied about who she was. If these vultures are always harassing her, she probably just wanted to breathe in peace for once.
Shaking my head, I climb into my truck and turn it on, backing out of the driveway and heading to the diner. I have to tell Sally that Penelope left. She’s going to be heartbroken.
