They made it out of the church with only a few more brief exchanges and compliments on the wedding flowers.
When they finally got into the car, Penny sighed in relief. “So, what’s got their starched pantaloons in a twist now?”
Addie’s lips quirked. “You know Martha and her penchant for scandal.”
“Do tell.”
“Penelope Rose,” Addie said sternly, “you know I don’t condone repeating hearsay.”
Five whole seconds went by before they both erupted in laughter. Gossip and rumors were the primary source of entertainment in Sumneyville, and anyone who pretended otherwise was a hypocrite. Perhaps Reverend McFinley should do a sermon on that.
Penny’s mother wiped her eyes and pulled out of the church lot. “Right. Well, apparently, during the reception, the good reverend walked into the restroom to relieve himself, and some of the guests were, uh ... intimately engaged.”
“No! Who?”
“Rick Obermacher and Marietta Buschetti.”
Penny had heard the same rumors everyone else had about Rick and Marietta, so hearing that they were hooking up wasn’t new. But in the church restroom during a wedding? That was some grade-A spicy scuttlebutt right there.
“And Marietta hadn’t even been invited Supposedly, she crashed the reception after the dinner shift at Franco’s.”
Penny enjoyed it while she could. She suspected that by this time tomorrow, her name would be the one being bandied about in hushed whispers and speculation, though obviously not for the same reason.
Once back at home, Penny made a beeline for her apartment, anxious to get out of her church clothes and into something more comfortable.
“Where are you going?” Addie asked.
“To change, so we can get started on dinner.”
“You look so pretty in that dress. You should keep it on.”
Penny narrowed her eyes at her mother. “Why do I need to look pretty, Mom?”
“Because we’re having company. You haven’t forgotten, have you?”
As if she’d been thinking about anything but seeing Jaxson Adams again.
“No, I haven’t forgotten. I just don’t see how what I’m wearing makes any difference.”
Addie lifted her shoulders in a delicate shrug. “I just think it would be nice, that’s all.”
“This isn’t a date, Mom.”
“No, of course not,” her mother said, but her tone suggested it wouldn’t be a travesty if it was.
Despite what Addie had said to Martha and Agnes, Penny knew her mother hoped she would get married and make her a grandmother someday.
Penny wanted that, too, but only if she found someone that she could be happy with, and that didn’t seem likely. The pickings in Sumneyville were slim.
An image of Jaxson came to mind—with his stormy eyes, long hair, and leather jacket. A shiver ran up and down the length of her spine. The good kind of shiver. Thankfully, Penny’s mother was opening the door and didn’t notice.
“He probably won’t even show, you know.”
“If he doesn’t, then we’ll just pack everything up and take it to him.”
Penny shook her head. “Why are you so determined to do this?”
“He’s new in town, he doesn’t know anyone, and thanks to you, he’s stuck here until tomorrow.”
A pang of guilt ran through her. There was that.
“Not that that’s a bad thing,” Addie continued. “Sometimes, people come into our lives for a reason. Maybe yesterday’s accident was supposed to happen. Did I ever tell you how I met your father?”
Penny exhaled. She’d heard the story at least a hundred times. “Sure. You were working in the Hoffmeier greenhouses at the time. Grandma Hoffmeier wasn’t feeling well, so you offered to work late. Dad showed up unexpectedly on medical leave, thinking it was his mother in the greenhouse but finding you instead. You thought he was an intruder and attacked him with a shovel. What does that have to do with anything?”
Her mother smiled wistfully. “He’d been injured, too. And angry, so very angry. Called me a menace. He was tired and hurting, and me hitting him was not the welcome home he was expecting.”
That didn’t sound like the father Penny knew. He rarely raised his voice or got mad.
“He always laughs about it when he tells the story.”
“Trust me, the laughter—and everything else—didn’t come until later. Much later.”
“Still not seeing your point.”
“The point is, I felt horrible. I even quit my job at Hoffmeier because I was convinced it was better for everyone. My mere presence seemed to irritate him, and it led to some tension, let me tell you. But I couldn’t stop thinking about him. My mother said I needed to make amends and insisted I invite him to Sunday dinner. She made a pot roast.”
“And?” Penny prompted.
Addie shrugged. “Things started to get better after that.”
Penny gaped at her mother. “Seriously?”
“Your grandmother made a great pot roast.”
“You can’t possibly think ...” Penny shook her head and said emphatically, “The situations are completely different, and Jaxson is ...”
Addie lifted her eyebrows expectantly. “Jaxson is ...”
“Dark and broody and completely not my type.”
“That’s what I said about your father, and I protested against my mother’s idea, just as you’re doing now. So, I’ll tell you what my mother told me: If you really believe that, then what’s the fuss? The worst that’ll happen is that you’ll assuage your guilty conscience and he’ll get a home-cooked meal. No harm, no foul. He’ll go his way, and you’ll go yours.”
It didn’t sound so bad when she put it that way.
“Fine,” Penny agreed.
“Good. Now, start peeling those potatoes.”
Penny pulled the apron over her head and tied it behind her waist. “What are we making?”
Addie’s eyes twinkled. “Grandma’s pot roast. What else?”
Chapter Twelve
Jaxson
“You came.” That was Penny’s greeting when he showed up at her door, her pretty eyes wide with surprise.
She looked different. Her hair was loose, held away from her face by a headband, and she had on light makeup. Instead of jeans and a T-shirt, she was wearing an apron, covered in pink and yellow flowers, over a dress. A brief glance downward revealed not the sparkly Chucks she’d had on yesterday, but tiny, bare feet with nails painted a vivid shade of purple.
Something in his chest stirred, followed immediately by the toll of warning bells in the back of his head. He hoped her change in appearance hadn’t been done on his account while a small part—a very small part he refused to acknowledge—kind of hoped it had.
“I said I would, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but I didn’t think you actually would.” She shook her head and stood back, opening the door wider so he could come in. “I was expecting to have to bring a box to your door.”
When he raised an eyebrow in question, she shrugged. “I told you, my mother is determined to feed you.”