Penny
reliving the day in her mind. It had certainly ended so much better than it had started. She and the girls—The Garden Variety Lovers Club—had a plan of action. Hazel had given her blessing on them meeting in the back garden after Penny insisted that she’d clear a spot for them, and that Hazel wasn’t to lift a finger to help. She and Ward hadn’t just formed a truce, they’d broken through walls and were now well on their way to being friends. Dinner with his family had been delightful.
Then, she’d finished the third Destiny Baudelaire downstairs, curled up in an armchair in the parlor, with Hazel dozing on the sofa nearby, her dogs tucked in around her.
The icing on the cake was that Ward had asked if they could spend time together tomorrow.
She’d wanted to say ‘yes’ before the words were completely out of his mouth, but the sudden rush of emotions at his request had scared her. She wasn’t looking for a relationship, not right now. Not with Mom so out of control. So much could change on a dime in her world, and she simply didn’t have the wherewithal to invest in a romantic relationship, especially since she was so out of practice where men were concerned.
The last guy she’d dated semi-seriously hadn’t lasted long after she’d finally brought him home to meet her mother. Evidently, Lance Crandall hadn’t been too keen on the two-for-one package she was a part of. It hadn’t helped that Judy had not been in a very good mood and had paced the room, muttering under breath, the whole time he was there. When he’d left that night, her mother had yelled at him through her bedroom window, and although it hadn’t made a whole lot of sense, her message had been clear. Judy hadn’t liked Lance any more than Lance had liked Judy.
The doctors had explained that early onset Alzheimer’s typically progressed much faster than late onset, but that Judy could live for many years, depending on how the disease progressed. It was coming on a decade since she’d gotten her official diagnosis, and as far as Penny could tell, her mother still had a lot of life left in her.
Penny couldn’t put that kind of burden on anyone else.
She couldn’t put the burden of a third person in their little world on her mother, either.
But if Ward was interested in being her friend, someone she could spend time with, someone she actually enjoyed spending time with, then she’d be happy to have him in her life. Now she just had to make sure he understood that.
“It shouldn’t be a problem,” she whispered to herself. “He’s not staying, either. Neither one of us can afford to get involved.”
Penny had been so relieved when he’d agreed to come to brunch in the morning, that he hadn’t been put off by her invitation to spend time with both her and Hazel. She’d have to set some boundaries up front, at least for her sake, but having Hazel at the table with them felt very casual and non-pressuring.
She’d refused to allow herself to start the last book in Destiny’s series because she wanted to get a good night’s sleep. She knew if she started it, she’d be up to the wee hours. But the events of the day had worn her out, and she found she was actually sleepy and more than ready to call it a day. She opened the curtains after turning off her light so she could see the diamond-studded velvet sky out her window. “I wonder if he’s looking at the stars tonight, too?”
Then she sighed and shook her head at her far too romantic musings for someone who wasn’t interested in romance. “Go to sleep, you ooey gooey butter bar.”
Just as she started to back away from the window, Ward’s porch light flickered on and off three times. Penny lifted her hand in acknowledgment, even though she knew he couldn’t see her.
with a bubble of excitement in her chest. Her eyes sprang open just after eight, the morning sunlight streaming through her open window. She didn’t mind one bit. Technically, eight o’clock was still sleeping in for her, and besides, today was stacking up to be one full of possibilities.
Last night, after the St. James family had gone home, she and Hazel had settled into the front parlor for a second—tiny, of course—slice of lemon meringue pie and a little end of the day reading. Hazel had finally picked up the latest Reese Witherspoon’s Book Club book and was devouring it as fast as Penny was plowing through her Destiny Baudelaire novel. But before diving into their respective reads, Hazel had casually mentioned that she’d be busy all afternoon, and Penny should find a way to keep herself busy. “I might not even be back in time for supper, so maybe you and that lovely St. James boy can grab a meal together somewhere. Or here, if you’d rather. My kitchen is your kitchen; you know that, dear.”
Penny had just rolled her eyes. “You are relentless, Hazel Poleman.”
“I’ve been told it’s one of my finest attributes,” the older woman had shot back. “Now, not to be rude, but I’ve been dying to get back to this delicious novel. There’s all the good stuff in this one—mischief, mayhem, and murrrrrderrrrrr.” She drew out the last word in a creepy, scratchy, old-lady voice that had Penny chortling in delight.
She decided to simply let the day play out the way it would. If, after brunch, Ward wanted to spend even more time with her, she’d be open to it. If not, she had plenty to keep her busy in the gardens, now that she had new motivation and the support of her friends. And of course, she could read, although she wasn’t sure she was ready to jump into the last book in the series so soon. It would mean the end of the end, and even though she had no doubt it would culminate in the happiest of happy endings, just the thought of saying that final goodbye to Ewan Hunter and Wendy Brandt and all their friends had her almost tearing up.
Penny found Hazel already downstairs in the kitchen, sitting in the little breakfast nook that looked out over the backyard. It had once been such a lovely scene with the colorful gardens, but the expression on Hazel’s face as she studied the bedraggled state of things validated Penny’s determination to do what she could to set things right out there. It might not take care of things long-term, but maybe part of their plan could be downsizing the gardens instead of just abandoning them.
“Good morning, Hazel,” Penny said, not wanting to startle the woman, who seemed lost in thought, her hands clasped around a steaming cup of coffee on the table in front of her.
“Oh, Sweet Pea, come.” She lifted a hand and gestured toward the bench opposite her. “Grab yourself a cup of coffee and come sit with me. It’s a bit of a mess out there, but the birds and squirrels don’t seem to mind, and they’re quite entertaining this morning.”
Penny did as she was told, and sure enough, the garden was alive with activity. Only a few yards beyond the window, hanging from the trunk of a sprawling redbud tree, was a little wooden birdhouse painted to match the guesthouse. A wren was darting in and out of it with scraggly bits and pieces of nesting material.
“That’s her second nest this year,” Hazel told her, pointing at the busy bird. “And if I’m not mistaken, this is her third, maybe fourth year using that little birdhouse. I clean it out every fall so it’s ready for her return in the spring.”
The coffee was strong and dark this morning, and Penny had doctored it up with plenty of heavy cream and maple syrup. She took a slow, careful sip as she studied the woman across from her. Hazel looked well-rested today, she thought, but Penny still sensed an underlying worry in the way she sat, her shoulders a little hunched, her hands toying nonstop with the handle of her mug.
Now seemed the perfect opportunity to speak, and before she lost her courage, Penny reached across the table and rested her hand on Hazel’s forearm. “I don’t mean to be nosy, but is everything all right with you, Hazel?”
Hazel turned a warm smile on her. “I’m fine, dear. I’m just feeling my age; that’s all. I’m sorry if I’ve worried you.” She jutted her chin toward the garden and directed Penny’s gaze back outside. “I was just thinking about how God can take even the most discouraging aspects of our lives—our weaknesses, our shortcomings, even our failures—and turn them into places where life can thrive. I may not have planted squirrels and rabbits,” she said with a soft chuckle. “But they’re loving it out there, all safe in the cover of the overgrowth. I also know that beneath those weeds and brambles, the things I did plant are just waiting for me to clear the way for them to return to their full glory. The hydrangeas are beautiful this year.” She pointed toward several groupings of the plants with their heart-shaped leaves that were, indeed, loaded with raspberry pink, dusky blue, and even some pure white puff balls of lacy blossoms. “I can see it the way it should be, Sweet Pea,” Hazel said rather wistfully. “It’s lovely in my mind’s eye.”
Penny took a sip of her coffee and swallowed the lump that had formed in the back of her throat as she listened to Hazel. She was hesitant to say anything, though, not wanting to sound placating or insensitive.
“By the way, I have guests scheduled to arrive the first week in August.” The change in subject caught Penny off guard, but she straightened in her seat and set her mug down.
“That’s wonderful. Is there anything I can do to help you get ready for them?” It was still almost three weeks away, but Penny thought it might be the perfect excuse for the Garden Variety Lovers Club to step in and help, too. She pointed out the window. “Can I tackle the garden?”
“Tackle is right, honey. I’m not so sure that’s on my list of things to do right now. I won’t stop you from going out there, but I don’t want you to feel obligated to take on putting things to right for me.”
Penny nodded. “I understand. But you know me. I’m a doer. The only time I can sit still is when I’ve got a book in my hands.”
Ward showed up half an hour early. “I’m early. I know. But I came bearing gifts.” He held out a basket from his mother like a peace offering. In it was not one, but two stoppered bottles of blackberry syrup, a half-dozen fluffy, flakey breakfast biscuits, and a pint jar of jam a color that Penny had never seen before.
“You are welcome any time of the day if you come bearing gifts like these, young man,” Hazel exclaimed, taking the basket from him. She held up the jar of jam toward Penny. “Do you know what this is, Sweet Pea?”
Penny sent Ward a questioning look, but he only grinned back at her, leaving her guessing.
“This, my darling girl, is Rachel St. James’ award-winning, world famous, sweet tomato jam. You have never tasted anything quite like it, and once you do, you will hold all other jams to a new standard.”
“My goodness,” Penny exclaimed, brows lifted. “World famous?”
“Not quite world famous,” Ward said. “But Autumn Lake famous, for sure.”
“And since this town is our world,” Hazel insisted. “Then world famous, this jam most certainly is. You must try some immediately.” She unwrapped the biscuits, plopped one on a plate, slathered it with the jam, and handed the dish to Penny. “The biscuits are still warm, too.”
Tomato jam? Could it really be that amazing? Penny liked tomatoes well enough, but as a savory treat, preferably with bacon and lettuce on crusty peasant bread. But Hazel and Ward both stared at her, waiting for her to taste the goods.
She smiled bravely, lifted the biscuit to her nose and sniffed it, still not sure about it.
“Don’t be a chicken,” Hazel prodded. “Take a big bite. Taste the tomato.” She waved her hands at Penny like she was trying to put her into a trance. “You’ll never be the same again.”
“She’s right,” Ward said, his eyes never leaving Penny’s face. “I know many an Autumn Laker who would wrestle you to the ground for what you have in your hand right now.” His grin turned a little flirty, making Penny’s cheeks grow warm as the image of wrestling with Ward popped into her head.
She blinked rapidly to clear her mind and took a huge bite of the biscuit.
The bread, itself, was to die for. A golden flakey outer layer, a soft chewy cloud on the inside, and when the jam hit her tastebuds, Penny closed her eyes and let out a moan that sounded borderline inappropriate.
“It’s good, isn’t it?”
Hazel’s enthusiasm wasn’t unwarranted. It was really, really good. The acidic tartness of vine-ripened tomatoes sweetened by a hint of caramel—did she use brown sugar instead of white? It wasn’t syrupy sweet the way other jams were. Penny wouldn’t stir it into ice cream or spread it on her waffles, although she imagined some people would be just fine doing so. But the robust flavor of it spread over her tongue, lingering in her mouth, even after she swallowed, leaving in its wake a craving to taste it again.
“You could put this on a grilled cheese or a BLT, couldn’t you?” she asked between bites. “Or on crepes with cream cheese… mmmm.” She was gushing, she knew, but this was a brand-new experience for her, and Penny wanted to savor it. “I mean, it’s delicious by itself like this, too.”
“I eat it by the spoonful when no one is looking,” Hazel quipped. She shook a finger at Penny. “But don’t be getting any ideas. I’ll be monitoring this jar now that I know that you know that it’s here.”
Ward joined in with putting together the rest of their brunch. The biscuits and jam had only served to whet their appetites, and by the time they sat down to their meal, they were more than ready to dig in. They’d opted to eat outside that morning, the sprawling branches of a hedge maple cast extra hours of shade over the northeast corner of the house, which included that end of the porch.
With the lazy dogs lounging close by, just in case little treats happened to fall like manna from heaven, the conversation around the table meandered comfortably from one topic to another. But Penny could tell they were all being very intentional about the things they weren’t discussing. Such as Ward’s eminent return to California, Penny’s looming August departure, and the fact that Hazel’s guesthouse remained empty, even though the summer was almost half over.
Finally, Hazel patted the tabletop with both hands. “Well, children. What a lovely way to spend a Saturday morning; with two of my most favorite people in the world. But I have a full afternoon ahead of me, so I’d best be getting on with things.”
“Of course,” Penny said, pushing to her feet and holding out a hand toward her hostess. “Please, Hazel. We can clean up. You go do what you need to do.”
Ward got up, too, and hurried around the table to pull Hazel’s wrought iron chair back for her, making Penny smile appreciatively at him. He was such a gentleman. If she ever got the chance when it wouldn’t be awkward, she’d have to thank Rachel and Ted for teaching him such respect. It wasn’t a lost art; Penny knew many men who were deferential toward women. But Ward was proving her first impression of him wrong every time she was around him, and it didn’t feel disingenuous. It seemed to her that perhaps, indeed, he’d been having a rough day the first time they’d run into each other.
Penny didn’t miss the gleam in Hazel’s eye as she readily agreed to leave them on their own to take care of the aftermath of their feast. “There are two slices of lemon pie left in the fridge, just in case you need a little sustenance this afternoon. Not sure what you two have planned, but if you’re around the guesthouse, you’re welcome to it. To anything you can find, for that matter.”
“We got it, Hazel.” Penny gave her the stink eye, but the woman ignored the look and headed inside, Murtagh and Delilah following close on her heels, Jimbo following close on Delilah’s heels.
She and Ward made quick work of the cleanup, and when the last of the dishes was dried and put away, the counters wiped down, and the jars of goodness from Rachel tucked carefully into a shelf of the refrigerator door, Penny was fully prepared for Ward to say his goodbyes.
Instead, he leaned against the counter, bracing his hands on either side of his hips, and cocked his head at her. “So? What’s next on the agenda? Feel like getting out on the water?”
Penny’s eyebrows shot up as a surge of unexpected excitement coursed through her. “Out on the water? What does that mean?”
Ward eyed her suspiciously. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the water, Miss Penelope Anderson.”
“No!” she declared, a little more vehemently than she’d intended. “Not at all. I love it. I just wanted clarification. Hazel still has her old John boat out in the barn. We can probably use that.” She broke off, wondering if she wasn’t completely off base. For one, there might be a good reason the boat wasn’t out on the water: a leak, a broken motor, or just Hazel not wanting to hassle with it. For two, if anyone had a boat fit for the water, surely it was a boat repairman’s son. And for three, maybe Ward hadn’t meant ‘on’ the water in a literal sense at all. Maybe he was asking if she wanted to go for a swim.
“I had something else in mind,” Ward said, with a grin that had Penny planting her hands on her hips.
“You’re scaring me.” She gave him the same stink eye she’d given Hazel earlier. “And I don’t scare easy.”
“Good to know,” Ward said, nodding slowly. “How about you meet me at the end of Hazel’s dock in half an hour?”
“Hmmm.” He couldn’t be planning anything too crazy right out there in the open, right? “Do I need to change?” She wore a pair of cutoff jeans shorts and a cap-sleeved t-shirt the color of apricots, and she hoped he wasn’t going to suggest a bathing suit. She wasn’t quite ready to break out the shiny teal one-piece she’d bought to wear to the YMCA pool when Mom was still able to exercise. It was identical to the one her mother wore, matching intentionally so Judy could keep track of her in the water. She was sure Ward would understand the matronly suit, but that didn’t change the fact that it was just plain unflattering on anyone, including Judy. “I have quick-dry water shoes, too.” She’d been a convert her first summer at the lake when her regular sneakers never seemed to get completely dry after their first soaking.
“Perfect. If you don’t mind a little water, what you're wearing is fine. Just add sunscreen. You’ll thank me.” Well, that didn’t clarify much, but it didn’t sound like they were going swimming. At least not intentionally. Ward straightened the dishtowel he’d been using where it hung on the oven door. “We good here? Half an hour.”
“Half an hour,” she repeated, still a little uncertain. But she reminded herself that she’d planned to let the day take her where it would, and she was on for the ride.
And ride, she did.
Twenty-eight minutes later, Penny heard the hum of a motor kick on not too far away, and she turned to see Ward easing a jet ski out of the boat house at the end of the St. James’ dock. By the time he pulled up in front of her, she was practically giddy with delight, bouncing up and down on her heels. She actually clapped when he held out a life vest toward her.
“Put this thing on and climb aboard,” he said, grinning up at her. She couldn’t see his eyes clearly behind the sunglasses he’d put on, but at the edges of the frames, she saw laugh lines.
When she’d buckled the straps and tightened them to fit snugly around her petite frame, she took his proffered hand and stepped carefully off the dock and onto the back of his watercraft. The seat was already a little damp, but in her excitement, she hardly noticed, and she certainly didn’t care.
“All set?” Ward asked over his shoulder.
“All set.”
“You’re going to want to hold on,” he said, giving her a flirty, crooked smile. “There’s a handrail behind your seat that you can grab, or, since we’re practically married, you can just put your arms around me. I won’t bite. I promise.”
“Right. Yes.” The words came out a little breathless. She reached back for the handrail and quickly decided that wasn’t going to work for her. She slid her arms around his waist, careful not to cling too tightly.
“Ever done this before?” When she shook her head, he said, “Lean with me, not against me, okay? I may rise up off the seat a little on a turn, but I won’t stand up completely, so you should be able to keep holding onto me. Or you can grab the handrail, too. I’ll take it easy at first, but do you like speed?”
Penny pressed her lips together and nodded, afraid if she opened her mouth to speak, she’d squeal like a little girl. Was this really happening? She’d dreamed of this every summer she’d come to Autumn Lake, to fly over the water on a jet ski, to have her hair whipping around her face as the wind stole her breath, the rumble of the motor blocking out all other sounds except for her shrieks of exhilaration.
And now, here she was, settling onto the back of Ward St. James’ watercraft, preparing to do just that. No wonder she couldn’t find her voice.
“Then let’s do this,” Ward said, revving the motor a few times. He let the jet ski idle until they were several feet out into the water, then they started picking up speed.
The first of many sounds came flying out of her mouth, and Penny stopped caring what Ward might think of her.