On the way home, I grab takeout from a café that wasn't in business when I lived here before, then I grab an overpriced sweatshirt from a boutique next door. I forgot how quickly a warm day turns into a cold night in the desert.
I pass Sal on his way out of the bakery, Adela on his arm. He sends me a wave, and I return the gesture.
Olive Township is coming to life as the sun sets, restaurants filling up and the music from bars spilling out into the main street. This place is special, no doubt, an eclectic blend of gritty, desert charm mixed with high-end details.
It's unbelievable, but as I drive through town, it becomes clear to me that Daisy and Hugo were not all I missed of Olive Township.
The town itself is lodged in my heart.
Home.
Chapter 31
Daisy
The sun beamsoff a beautifully wrapped gift on my welcome mat, sending colors an inch into the air around it. A quick glance around my neighborhood confirms there is nobody out there, waiting for me to receive this present.
A tag dangles, string tied into the ribbon, but I don't want to look at it. Somehow I know in my heart who it's from, so I save the tag for last.
A journal, bound in lavender leather. The smell of new paper floats from the book as I flip through. The pages are lined, save for the first page, where a single line in the center readsThis journal belongs toand the name is filled in.
Sunshine
A faint smile ghosts my lips, my fingertip tracing the letters written by his hand.The gift tag reads:
To hold your thoughts.
Happy birthday.
My birthday isn't for eight more months. Why has Penn left me this?
With one last glance down the street, I retreat into my home, gift in hand. Depositing it in my nightstand drawer, I stare down at the lavender leather, knuckles brushing over my lower lip.
This is Penn's way of apologizing. It doesn't work instantaneously, like flipping over a coin, but there's something to it. A nudge. An in-road.
I shouldn't indulge my heart this way, but I can't help it.
Not when it comes to Penn.
Chapter 32
Penn
On MondayI show up to Desert Oasis Theatre, where Noelle told me to be for rehearsal.
It's a large space with stadium-style seating for a couple hundred people. There's a scuffed stage, bracketed by thick curtains. It's hard to describe what the place smells like, only that it's not terrible, but also not good. Musty, I guess.
Noelle waves me over when I walk in. "This is Peter Bravo," she says, introducing me to the woman she's standing with.
"Actually," I clear my throat. "My name is Penn Bellamy." It feels good to say my name.
Noelle makes a face. "Does Daisy know that?"
"Yeah," I nod. "It's a long story, though, and I'm not telling it."
"That's...weird," Noelle says.
"Tenley Roberts," the woman beside Noelle cuts in. "Nice to meet you, Penn."
