The rain had tapered off by the time Penny dumped the bucket of gross water in the backyard flower bed. She went back into the garage and rinsed the bucket and sponge in the utility sink, but after a whiff of the sponge, she tossed it into the garbage can and put away the bucket and rubber gloves. Leaving all the minivan doors open would allow the upholstery to dry and air out the smells that not even the special enzyme cleaner could eliminate.
Much better odors hit her when she entered the kitchen. Basil and lemon were the strongest. “What are you making?”
Gene smiled at her as he lifted the lid from a steaming saucepan. “Bruschetta chicken, mashed potatoes, and roasted lemon asparagus.”
She pecked him on the lips as she passed him on the way to the kitchen sink. “Bacon or garlic?”
“Plain considering our patient upstairs.” Gene grimaced before he poked at the contents of the pot with a fork. “I hope I don’t get whatever bug she has. I’ve got that presentation at the hospital tomorrow.”
“It’s not like I want it.” She turned on the faucet and adjusted the temperature. “A puking barista isn’t a good way to make sales.”
“I’m sorry you wasted your time off today.”
The quiet in the house finally registered. The family room TV wasn’t blasting at an ear-splitting level. “Where’s your dad?”
“He ran into Aunt Doris’s roommate from college. A lady named Marian.” Gene grinned. “Doris had tried to set up the two of them, but the timing was never right. So they were going out to dinner and then to the Casablanca re-release at the Bijou.”
“That’s great!” Penny meant it, too. Edward needed someone his own age to hang out with, instead of wallowing over the death of Judy. It had been nearly two years since her mother-in-law had passed away. Edward had withdrawn from everyone. His severe depression had worried both her and Gene.
“It’ll us a little private time. Gene laid down the fork, started to reach for her, and stopped. “Penny, not to risk our marriage, but would you please go take a shower? You’ve got vomit in your hair.”
She reached for the section of her auburn tresses he stared at. Goo met her fingertips. Nausea filled her throat. She turned off the kitchen faucet. “I think I’ll go wash my hair and take a shower.”
* * *
A half hour later, Penny’s clean, damp hair was clipped up and out of her face, and she dressed in sweat pants, a sweat shirt, and her wool-lined leather slippers. She shuffled to Justine’s room and eased the door open. Her daughter snuggled under her lilac comforter, bright red curls spread on her pillow. One hand poked from under the covers to clutch Mr. Roosevelt. The poor kid must really feel rough to allow her favorite teddy bear back in her bed.
Gene left a lined trash can by the bed in case Justine couldn’t make it to the bathroom. Her soccer ball night light was plugged into the nearly outlet. A cup with a sip lid sat on the night stand. Good, the kid had water if she needed it.
Penny closed the door and headed downstairs. Her headache had eased with the hot shower, but it was still there. She hoped it wasn’t a harbinger of whatever bug Justine had picked up.
She frowned as she walked down the hallway. The lights from the kitchen were terribly dim. She looked over her shoulder. The storm hadn’t knocked out the power. The porch light still glowed through the stained glass framing the front door.
Upon entering the kitchen, she found two slim white tapers sitting in the candlesticks she’d bought on their honeymoon. Flames burned steadily from their wicks. Gene glanced at her as he poured chardonnay into a wine glass.
“I kept everything warm until I heard the shower turn off.” He handed her the glass and started poring wine into the second glass. “How’s Justine?”
“Out cold.” Penny smiled. “While I don’t wish ill on our one and only offspring, I’m thankful for a quiet evening.”
“Something happen?”
“Just the usual.” The tension in her shoulders ratcheted up a notch despite her hot shower. “Everything I do is wrong.”
“Sweetie, you can’t take everything Justine says and does personally.” Gene set aside his glass and pulled her into his arms. “Puberty literally drives preteens crazy. All these new feelings. Concerns about fitting in—”
Penny laughed and set her glass on the table. “I don’t need you to shrink me. I need my husband.”
“Your husband would tell you the same thing.” He kissed her forehead.
“Let me amend that.” She smiled as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I need my husband to let me bitch. I’m not asking for you to fix my problems.”
“Well, that’s definitely a switch from my patients.” Gene’s wry smile said he’d had a tough day, too. “While we eat, you can complain, and I will let you.”
“It’s a deal.”
* * *
The next morning Gene insisted Justine stay home from school, just in case. Even though he was following the district guidelines for ill kids, it made him the cool parent. Plus, he made arrangements to do his presentation from home so he could keep an eye on Justine.
Penny swallowed her resentment on the drive to her coffee shop. Java’s Palace was her baby. Opening her own business was the only way she was going to break the glass. But everyone had expected her to give it up when she married Gene.
Everyone except Gene himself.
He loved her and would do anything for her. Including giving her the space to run her coffee shop. Reminding herself of that essential fact eased some of the tightness in her chest as she pulled into the Java’s Palace parking lot.
There was already a line for the drive-thru window wrapped around the back of the building. Valerie Simmons, her assistant manager, had volunteered to open during the school year after Justine’s horrendous time in kindergarten. The woman had been a godsend.
Penny opened the door of her minivan, and a blast of freezing air took her breath away despite her insulated coat. The weather report wasn’t joking about the drop in temperature once the rain front passed through the area. She ran to the main entrance and was met with warmth and the delicious aroma of fresh coffee beans.
The line of customers inside the store matched the line of cars in the drive-thru. With a quick nod to Valerie, Penny strode back to the shop’s office, pulling off her coat as she went. After locking her coat and purse in her cubby, she donned her apron and charged back to the counter.
“Valerie, you take orders,” Penny said briskly. “Josie, why don’t you warm and bag sandwiches and pastries?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Josie said with a grateful smile. The college student looked frazzled, and it wasn’t just her blue curls hanging limply from the heat and humidity of the milk steamer.
Penny slid into action behind the commercial espresso machines while Josie manned the industrial toaster, and Valerie rang up customers and poured regular coffee from one of the three pots on the back counter.
As they worked, Penny talked with her regular patrons about the latest community gossip like the need for a new fire engine and the developer who had been buying several vacant parcels of land around town. Or she did until she heard Courtney Lasser’s fake dulcet tones.
“I’ll have a non-fat, soy milk, sugar-free caramel macchiato.” Courtney turned to Penny. “We need to have a conversation, Ms. Hudson.”
“Really?” Penny returned the faux brightness as Valerie handed her the marked paper coffee cup. “I thought things were settled between Justine and Kenny. She apologized and the coach benched—”
“Penny, you know it’s against the rules of the Oakfield Soccer League for an outside vendor to sell their wares without the board’s permission,” Courtney said with a sickly sweet smile while Penny squirted sugar-free vanilla syrup in the cup.
That smile was so sickly sweet she wanted to smack it off Courtney Lasser’s botoxed face.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Penny pressed the button to grind fresh beans when Courtney opened her mouth to reply. Her lips formed a moue of distaste at the clatter and whine of the grinder.
Unfortunately, the grinder stopped too soon for Penny’s taste and she pressed the button for the espresso to brew.
“Helen saw you bring in coffee to sell yesterday,” Courtney continued. “I’ll have to ban you—”
“I didn’t sell anything at the soccer field yesterday, much less coffee.” Penny poured the steamed milk in Courtney’s cup while she spoke.
“Just because your friends pay you ahead of time doesn’t mean you can skirt the rules, Penny.”
The headache from yesterday roosted behind Penny’s eyeballs with a vengeance. She dumped the espresso in the middle of the milk foam. “No one paid me for the coffee I brought to the game.” She picked up the caramel bottle, and somehow, she resisted the urge to squirt the contents all over Courtney’s expensive highlights.
“Every other parent brings drinks to the field.” Penny couldn’t stop the contempt dripping from her words. “Why? Neither you or Helen or any other of your perfect moms knows how to brew a decent cup of coffee because you all have your housekeepers do it at home or you come here. So, if you ban me from bringing drinks, you’re going to have to ban everyone, and you won’t be able to be handle the caffeine-deprived hate.”
Courtney stared at her with the same expression of open-mouthed shock as a fish at the Chicago Aquarium had when Justine was five. On the other hand, Valerie tried to stifle a snicker.
Penny drizzled caramel on the milk foam. She popped on the top and slid on the coffee cup sleeve. “Have a great day!” She held out the cup to Courtney with a bright smile.
Courtney’s jaw shut with the distinct click of her bleached teeth. She grabbed the cup out of Penny’s hand and stomped out of the shop on her ridiculously high heels.
Valerie leaned close though there were no more customers in line. “I saw what you wrote with the caramel.”
“You think she’s going to take the lid off?”
“The rest of the staff looks up to you, girl,” Valerie said with a nod at Josie who was refilling the pastry display. “You shouldn’t be writing insults on customer’s coffee.”
“Yes, Miss Valerie.”
“Don’t sass me.” Valerie rolled her eyes. “I’d quit if I didn’t need the health insurance.”
“Nah, you love me too much.” Penny hugged the woman. But Valerie was right. If she expected her employees to treat the customers with respect, she couldn’t be writing “Bitch” on anyone’s coffee.
Even if it was Courtney Lasser.
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