The next obstacle in the path to winning Penelope’s heart? Show her he could communicate his feelings.
He’d decided to write her a poem.
Looking for inspiration, he’d studied “High Flight” by John Gillespie Magee Jr., a favorite poem of aviators. He’d read stuff by Shakespeare, Browning, and Byron.
He’d started a dozen poems and ended up throwing them all in the trash because he didn’t thinkYour hair is like a cirrocumulus cloudorI like you more than pulling nine Gswas going to do the trick.
“Do you know anything about poetry?” he asked Skid.
She swallowed a mouthful of power bar, eyebrows lifting. “A little. Why?”
“I’m trying to write a poem.”
She grinned. Her frizzy blond hair always looked angry to be trapped into the low ponytail she wore on the job. “Why?”
“Because I think Penelope might like it.”
“There’s nothing you could do to make Penelope like you,” she teased.
“That’s really helpful, thanks.”
“I’d advise you to keep it simple and honest,” she said.
“Rhyming? Not rhyming?”
“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you break open that lump of coal you call a heart and force it to express itself.”
“Okay, but what style of poem should I write? How long should it be?”
“If I give you more help, Penelope won’t be moved because she’ll know it didn’t come from you.”
He scowled.
“I wouldn’t stress about it too much,” she said as she walked toward the debriefing room. “All your efforts are going to fail, Big Sky. That woman is out of your league.”
•••
“What are you smiling about?” Aubrey asked Penelope on Sunday.
“Am I smiling?”
“It was subtle, but yes. You had a dreamy kind of smile on your face.”
“I’m just glad that you’re home and doing so well.”
“Aww.” Aubrey sat on the floor of her living room next to one of those baby gym thingamabobs. Madeline lay beneath the arching bars and dangling toys on a blanket, looking upward with an expression Penelope translated as polite confusion.
While it was certainly true that she was glad Aubrey was home and doing so well, her smile had sprung from a different source entirely. She’d been looking at the text Eli had sent her yesterday.
I know you’re not interested in going out on a date. But would you be willing to share your weekend schedule with me? That way, I can run into you coincidentally. I have something I’d like to give you.
The text had given her a swoony thrill when she’d first seen it. Since then, she’d viewed it several more times because it continued to deliver on thrills.
She’d debated how to respond. Eventually, she and Eli would see each other at a social gathering. He could give her whatever he had to give her then.
Only, he’d sparked her curiosity. And as ill-advised as it might be, she didn’t want to wait for a social occasion to see him again. She’d texted back,I’ll be at my apartment for a few hours on Sunday afternoon, starting at 3:00. You can run into me coincidentally then.
Theo had taken time off for Madeline’s birth and then again for Aubrey’s more recent hospitalization. He’d been working from home as much as possible the past few days, but he still had a lot of business to catch up on at the office. Penelope and the rest of Aubrey’s circle had been lending a hand whenever Theo was away. Aubrey was growing stronger by the day. Soon she wouldn’t need backup.
