Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

Penny parked her truck in the inn parking lot, looking over at me for the first time since we left the waterfall. It was after dark now, the heater in her truck on full blast to keep us warm after the water had seeped through our clothes.

I felt it now. There was an unmistakable lightness in my chest that hadn’t been there before. Like making Anna’s wish had lifted the heavy storm clouds that had been suffocating me since the second I lost her. Like I could finally begin to heal.

“Thank you,” I said to Penny, my voice thick with emotion.

She sucked in a breath and nodded. Her bottom lip trembled, but she managed to whisper, “You can stay at the inn for as long as you need. It’s on me.”

We climbed out of her truck and trudged back toward the lobby. Once again, it was bustling inside—a stark contrast to how I’d spent my day. I took in the families and couples milling about the space and found myself hoping all their wishes came true.

After a shared look that lasted far too long, I left Penny in the lobby and headed for my room. I felt sticky with sweat and had to peel off my clothes to get in the shower.

Once I was clean and refreshed, I contemplated my options for what to do next. I could pack up and drive home; I would be home a little after midnight. I could go to sleep and leave in the morning.

Or…

I could go back out to the lobby and find Penny.

No matter how many times I ran through my options, it always came back to that one. I wanted to see Penny.

I shrugged on my favorite sweater and stepped into a dry pair of shoes before wandering down the hotel halls to the lobby. It had been about an hour since I left to clean up, and it had quieted down considerably. Most of the families had gone to bed, and only a few remained in the restaurant.

Penny was one of them.

I chewed on my bottom lip as I approached her table in the back corner. “Want some company?” I asked, stopping in front of her.

She looked up from the dinner she was staring at instead of eating, and her eyes brightened. “I’d love some company, thank you.”

I slid in across from her. Almost like magic, one of the servers appeared with a glass of water and a menu, placing them in front of me. I thanked them and sipped my water. “You aren’t eating,” I said.

Penny picked up a carrot stick and bit down on the end to prove a point. I chuckled and shook my head.

“What are you going to do now?” she asked.

I picked at my nails while I thought about my answer. “I could go home,” I said tentatively, though even the words seemed wrong on my tongue.

“What would you do at home?”

I shrugged. “Try and start to pick up the pieces of my life. Although, I live with my parents, and I don’t think they’re ready to move on, not yet.”

“And that’s okay,” Penny said. “Everyone grieves differently, and everyone deserves some peace and grace. But if you’re ready to move into the next stage of your life without Anna, you should allow yourself to do so.”

I sucked in a deep breath and lowered my gaze to the menu waiting in front of me. “What’s good here?” I asked, unsure whether I was ready to answer her question. I felt so different than yesterday. My heart felt lighter, my bones were no longer made of lead.

But I wasn’t sure I was ready to commit to a life without Anna.

“The pumpkin bisque was my grandma’s recipe. Get it with the grilled cheese,” Penny said. She was quiet for a moment, nudging her salad around on her plate. I watched her move a cherry tomato from one end of the plate to the other four times before she said anything more. “Did you make a wish?”

“What?” I tilted my head.

“When you made Anna’s wish, did you make one too?”

“Yes,” I said.

Penny smiled gently again. “I hope it comes true.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Penny and I continued to talk throughout dinner. We talked about her sisters and her nieces in Oregon. I learned that her favorite color was green and she had a two-year-old cat named Sprite. She lived in a cottage at the inn, at the very edge of the grounds.

I told her how I used to love watching baking shows, but had forgotten how to enjoy things recently. It was shocking to find someone who empathized with all the strange facets of grief I’d experienced.

It was more than that, though.

Penny was a breath of fresh air. She was a smile in a world of frowns. She was someone who took a chance on me when I thought I had nothing more to give.

The evening wore on, and eventually, the restaurant cleared out. It was only Penny and me left in the corner.

I looked up at the sound of footsteps and the smell of something sweet. Wanda appeared at our table, setting two burrito-looking things before us. Penny stiffened, and her breath caught.

“Sugar heals all wounds,” Wanda said with a knowing smile. “Have a good night, girls.”

“Thank you, Wanda,” we replied in unison.

“What’s this?” I asked, poking at my tortilla.

“Struggle s’mores.” Penny beamed.

We lifted our burritos and tipped them toward each other in a quiet toast. I bit into the corner of mine, and my mouth was instantly filled with melted peanut butter, chocolate, and marshmallow. It was far too sweet and sticky and exactly what I needed.

“This is amazing,” I said. Peanut butter dripped down the side of my mouth.

“Tastes like home,” she agreed.

My eyes lingered on the chocolate on her lips for far too long.

An hour later, the desserts were gone and we sat quietly in the dim light. It was far after midnight by then. Penny took the last sip of her water, swirling the ice in her cup.

“We should get to bed,” Penny said quietly.

“Sure.” The word caught in my throat. I didn’t want today to end. I didn’t want this night to end.

Neither one of us moved.

Penny lowered her cup and met my gaze. “You have very pretty eyes,” she murmured.

“Brown?” I snorted.

She hummed. “Not quite brown, no, I’d call them honey. Golden, in the sun. They took my breath away in the sunset. Now, they look molten, like lava.”

I drew in a breath, blinking slowly. “I don’t think anyone’s ever complimented my eyes before,” I admitted. “Thank you.”

Penny stared at me for a moment longer before pushing herself out of her chair. “I need to go to bed.”

I stood too. “Okay.”

We were right next to each other then, our bodies so close they brushed together when we moved. Penny’s gaze was eternal as it captured mine.

“I wished for something today,” Penny whispered. In the quiet of the hotel, her voice felt too loud.

I leaned closer, unable to stop myself. “At the waterfall?”

“No.” She shook her head. “In the car. In the lobby. At the table.” She glanced back at the table we’d been sitting at for hours.

I gulped. Warmth bloomed within me, spreading through my veins and turning my cheeks red like spring roses. “What did you wish for?”

“To be kissed by a pretty girl.”

I didn’t want to waste another moment.

I kissed her.

Penny’s lips were softer than I ever could have imagined, and the warmth from them filled every part of me. Her hands slid up my shoulders and tangled in my hair, holding me like she couldn’t believe I was real. I trembled as I kissed her, my mind spiraling. How had I gone from desolate, broken, and grieving —without a thought for my future—to kissing a woman I barely knew?

Tentatively, I grazed my hands over Penny’s hips, tugging her against me in the same instant I slipped my tongue past her lips. The quiet gasp that fell from her mouth was music to my ears—everything I never knew I needed.

Somehow, she was everything.

We broke apart with shaky breaths, though our hands did not release each other. Penny looked between my mouth and my eyes frantically, as if she wasn’t sure what had come over her.

“I’ve heard wishes come true around here,” I breathed, resting my forehead against hers.

She laughed, tilting her head back. Hungrily, I captured her lips with mine again and stepped impossibly closer. She tasted like peanut butter and chocolate and something else—something more.

Something like… magic.