Losing Penny (10 page)

“So, basically the story will be easy for you
because you know the plot, but I’m clueless, because,
hello
,
I’m not Magdalena.”

“Thank goodness,” Drake breathed as he led
her up the stone patio steps. “Listen, we won’t stay long. I’ll
show my face, show off my beautiful, loving wife, and leave.”

A small trill of pleasure rippled through
Penny when Drake called her beautiful. It started at the top of her
head and headed for her toes, reminding her that she had to stand
strong. “And if the marriage was brief and disastrous, why are we
resurrecting it?” She swallowed back the bile gathering in her
throat. “This marriage is doomed. What am I getting out of this
charade?”

“Free food,” he said without a hiccough of
hesitation. “Which might not mean much to a cooking television diva
like yourself, but when you’re a starving writer struggling to eke
out a living as a lowly college professor, then you, like Oliver
Twist, think free food is glorious.”

Penny’s gaze went to the laden refreshment
table and traveled to the waiters parading trays through the yard.
Everything smelled as fabulous as it looked. Harmless crudités,
fresh colorful fruit, platters of shrimp, then the calories pretty
much skyrocketed after that. Scallops were fairly safe, but these
were wrapped in bacon. Mushrooms were also inoffensive until
stuffed with cream cheese and breadcrumbs. And then there was the
dessert table—she wouldn’t even look at the dessert table. And
since she wasn’t looking at Trevor, or the catering trays, or the
dessert table, the only safe place to look was at the sky or down
at her feet.

Drake stopped in front of the fruit display,
picked up a strawberry, and handed it to her. “Thank you,” she
said, taking it from him and biting into it with a trace of
violence.

“Hello, Drake.” Melinda came from behind,
like a well-trained sniper. She pressed against Drake’s back as she
slipped her hand around the arm that wasn’t encircling Penny.

Penny felt his immediate tension. He moved
away—just a tiny half step, and Penny was cold without him pressed
beside her.

Melinda turned her full smile on him, and
Penny knew that if Drake really were her husband, she’d be furious.
But she wasn’t married to Drake, so she really didn’t know how she
felt, except for hungry. The urge to inspect the dessert table
waved through her, but Drake drew her to his side like a
shield.

What a wimp. If he wasn’t interested in
Melinda, he should just tell her. But then Penny thought about his
free food comment and something other than hunger curled in her
belly. True, she hadn’t kept company with poverty for many years,
but she knew it very well. It had stalked her long before the Lurk.
She and Richard had once been master poverty avoiders. They had
clipped coupons, collected recyclables, and even gleaned oranges
from unpatrolled orchards.

Not that Drake looked like a pauper.
University professors were unlikely to starve, but they also
weren’t ever going to be rolling in cash. Still, she felt sorry for
him.

The Yorkie escaped his purse and chased after
a cat. The cat scurried up a tree but the dog landed in the
pool.

“Thor!” his owner cried, tottering on wobbly
heels after the delinquent dog.

Thor, looking like a floating hairball with
big brown eyes, splashed at the pool’s edge.

No one moved for a moment, but all eyes
trained on the thrashing dog. Drake sighed, removed his sports
jacket, and handed it to Penny. After rolling up his sleeves, Drake
squatted and scooped the dog out of the water.

Everyone cheered and applauded, and Drake
gave an awkward bow. He held the tiny, shivering dog at arm’s
length and tried to pass him to his owner, but the blonde took one
look at the animal and then at her silk dress—a wet dog would ruin
the dress.

“Here, let me,” Trevor stepped forward with
beach towel, and within seconds the dog was safely cocooned. The
blonde, Trevor, and the wiggling beach towel disappeared into the
house.

“That was quite the rescue,” Melinda said.
She touched Drake’s wet arm. “Thor isn’t the only one needing a
towel. Trevor should have brought one for you too. Follow me into
the pool house and we’ll get you dried off.”

Penny watched her faux husband follow
Melinda. If she stepped four feet to the left, she could disappear
into a hedge and no one would ever know. She looked down at her
skirt, frowning. She hadn’t expected to be partying with the Marx
family and had only packed a few casual skirts and no heels. She
felt underdressed and very, very short.

“Hey,” a voice spoke at her elbow. Although
she hadn’t heard the voice since her teenage fantasies, she’d
recognize it anywhere. “Have we met?”

Facing Trevor, Penny watched his eyes. She
dreaded, yet still sort of hoped, for a flicker of recognition.
Nothing. But he did have incredibly gorgeous blue eyes. She looked
at his left hand—no ring. Although that didn’t necessarily mean
anything. She didn’t have a ring either, and she was supposedly
married. Penny swallowed, “I don’t know, have we?”

He laughed and stuck out his hand. “Trevor
Marx.”

Penny passed Drake’s jacket from her left to
her right hand to take Trevor’s hand in her own, but as she did,
Drake’s phone tumbled to the cement with a crack.

She and Trevor both reached for it and bonked
heads.

“So sorry,” Penny mumbled as she gathered up
the pieces of the broken phone.

“I’m not,” Trevor said, straightening and
rubbing his forehead. “I’m happy I got to bump into you.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls.” Penny
fumbled with the phone, trying to piece it together.

Trevor laughed again. “Yes, I intentionally
try to knock heads with every pretty woman I meet.”

He called her pretty. Trevor Marx had called
her pretty. This astounding thought should have thrilled her.
Fifteen years ago it would have sent her over the moon. Ten minutes
ago it would have made her giddy. But at that very moment Penny
only felt an overwhelming surge of rage as she reread the open text
message on Drake’s phone:
I gave them matching Hello Kitty
T-shirts for Christmas.

Looking up into Trevor’s smiling face, Penny
stuttered, tried to rally her thoughts, and then blurted, “Excuse
me, I have to leave.”

The sky goddess Frigga spent her days weaving
the clouds with sunshine and rain. As surely as she wove the
heavens, she spun the fates. She watched the marriage of Hans and
Ingrid, smiling. She knew the future, although she could never
change it.

From
Hans and the Sunstone

Drake found Penny
in the upstairs bedroom throwing her clothes into a bag. Wolfgang
looked at him reproachfully.

Drake leaned against the doorjamb while
trying to understand the mystery of women. Penny radiated anger. He
saw it in her spine and in her fast, jerky movements. He understood
that their situation was cockamamie at best and laughably
ridiculous at worst, but he didn’t want her to leave. He liked her
company.

“You’re leaving? Tonight?”

She didn’t answer.

He cleared his throat. “Can you at least tell
me why?” When Penny answered by clicking her suitcase shut, he
continued, “You know, the reason why you’re leaving might not be
important right now. Let’s consider some logistics: it’s after
midnight, it will take you at least twenty minutes to get to a
hotel, and you will probably have to drive to Seattle to find a
hotel with a vacancy, and that’s another hour. So, do you really
want to schlep around Seattle searching for a hotel at two in the
morning?”

Penny stood, folded her arms and faced him.
“Maybe I can find one with a cat quilt.”

“What are you talking about?” Drake couldn’t
have been more surprised if she had pulled a shark out of her
suitcase.

“I gave them matching Hello Kitty T-shirts
for Christmas,” she said in a decent Drake imitation.

Drake stared at her then burst out laughing.
“That was you?”

“It’s not funny!” She looked wildly around
the room, searching for something to throw at him. She settled on a
pillow which she chucked at his head.

Drake ducked, still laughing as the pillow
sailed over him. “It was very funny! I put it online and more than
twenty-thousand people must have thought it funny, because they
passed it on to their friends.” He probably shouldn’t have told her
that.

“ARRGH!” She threw another pillow, and this
time it landed true and bounced off Drake’s nose. He picked up the
pillows and came toward her.

“Get out of my room!” Penny backed against
the bed and grabbed a loaded backpack. “How did you get my
number?”

Drake dodged the flying backpack, his
laughter fading. Wolfgang got to his feet and fled the room. Smart
dog. Drake knew he should do the same—that would be the intelligent
thing to do—but he didn’t want to. “You texted me, remember?”

Penny considered this as Drake drew
closer.

“Your aunt must have given you my number. If
I remember, you called me Auntie Mae.”

Penny had nothing left to throw, unless she
could pick up the dresser or bed. She probably could pick up the
nightstand. Even though he was risking bodily harm, Drake sat down
on the bed. “Just stay. At least until the morning.”

“Get off of my bed,” Penny said through
clenched teeth.

“Are you mad about the text? Really? Or is
there something else?” Drake stood, fighting the temptation to try
and hold her and kiss her. The situation was already complicated.
He
could not
kiss her. But he wanted to. As he watched
Penny, Drake wondered if he could finally be getting over Blair.
“Just stay until the morning,” he repeated.

Penny sat down beside him, careful not to
touch him. She didn’t look at him when she said, “This is my
bedroom.”

Drake nodded. “I know.”

She turned to him. “You’re not welcome in
here.”

He stood and nodded. “Fine,” he said, knowing
that the word “fine” from a man’s lips meant so much less than when
spoken by a woman.

She stared up at him as he turned to leave.
“You can’t come in here. Ever.”

“Since you’re leaving tomorrow,” he said over
his shoulder, “I don’t really see that as a life sentence.”

If you are interested in controlling or
losing weight, don't forget to pay attention to getting enough
sleep. Napping is an effective and refreshing alternative to
caffeine.

From
Losing Penny and Pounds

Penny bolted up
and the cat flew off the bed with a meow, her cry barely audible
above the music. Penny tried to wake from the deafening dream. She
swung her legs over the side of the bed and felt the cold tile
floor beneath her feet. The music played on, a seventies sound with
electric guitars, a keyboard, and drums.

She oriented herself. Someone was here. The
warm, moist air hit her like a punch to the gut. She’d been sitting
only a few feet away at the kitchen table. She hadn’t heard the
water running, but she hadn’t been listening for it either. The
door slowly opened. The bathroom was empty. There was no sign of
recent life…except for a heart drawn on the foggy mirror. Penny
stared at her own pale reflection as water dripped down the glass
like tears.

“
Who’s here?” she screamed.

“Hush, Penny.” Drake sat down on her bed.
“It’s okay. It’s just me.” She collapsed against him, shivering and
crying.

Drake
.
Her fuzzy mind tried to make
sense of him sitting on her bed and holding her.

“Nightmare?” he asked, shifting her so that
the top of her head fit under his chin.

She took a ragged breath and nodded.

“You scared the dog,” he told her. “He’s
hiding underneath your bed.”

“He’s a lousy watchdog.” She leaned against
him, listening to the steady thump of his heart.

“Richard would be so disappointed in
him.”

“Richard wouldn’t like you sitting on my
bed.” He held her loosely and she knew that if she asked him to
leave he would. She wanted to ask him to stay.

He laid her back down and tucked her in like
she was a child.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” she said, noticing
that she’d been much warmer outside of the quilt in his arms than
underneath it.

“You didn’t wake me.” He stayed on the edge
of her bed.

“No?” She glanced at the clock. Three
a.m.

“I rarely sleep.”

“Are you a vampire?”

“No, something much worse. An insomniac.”

“That sounds awful.”

“Not as awful as your dream. Do you want to
talk about it?”

Penny sniffed. “I’d rather sleep.”

He lay down on top of the quilt beside her.
“Me, too.”

***

Penny woke with the sun on her face and
quilts tangled around her legs. She watched Drake sleep. He looked
different, younger. He needed a shave and his hair was mussed. He
stirred and flung his arm over her, and in his sleep he pulled her
close. Penny didn’t know why, but she let this near-stranger draw
her to him. Then she thought better of it and wondered how she
could escape.

Easy peasy. She commanded herself to throw
her legs out of the tangled sheets and leave the room. But she
liked watching the rise and fall of chest. His hold on her
tightened and his breath fanned her cheek.

She told herself to run away, but instead she
closed her eyes, seduced by the quiet and comfort. She smiled,
warmed by the thought that he was able to sleep after all.

***

Penny woke up cold. A breeze smelling of the
Sound blew in through the window. Instinctively she reached for
Drake, but found only icy sheets. Realization washed over her and
she sat up. From downstairs she heard the rat-tat-tat of a
keyboard.