“Sylvie!”
“And then we have the rehearsal dinner, and on Sunday, we get married.”
Sylvie felt a shadow pass over her: It was Alexander’s ghost. Alexander and Sylvie had created goody bags for all their friends and family who came to Miami for the wedding, filled with local treats.
Sylvie made herself focus. “When does Penelope get here? She should have flown with us, Simon.”
“Thisbe said she couldn’t miss her last week at camp.” He pressed his fingers to his eyes. “Thisbe’s in Greece. Or maybe France. Anyway, Penelope’s nanny is bringing her, and she’ll arrive in Mumberton soon after we do.”
There was a heavy pause. Sylvie wanted to give Simon space to say what he needed to say. Beside Simon was Alexander’s ghost, wearing his Williams College T-shirt and a skeptical expression. Alexander had not always been nice; he raised an eyebrow now, as if to say,What did you expect?
—
Sylvie had met Penelope before her engagement to Simon, on a day she was exhausted from the Scholastic Book Fair. The Scholastic Book Fair was everyone’s favorite event of the year and Sylvie just hated it. She spent all afternoon setting up the various sections: “Kittens,” “Chills and Thrills,” “Unicorns,” “Pirates.” She had to handle parent volunteers and instruct them about how to use the red Scholastic cash registers.
When the final poster was hung, Sylvie opened the library doors and kids streamed in like forces attacking a medieval castle, buying up the smelly markers and bookmarks and “BFF pens” andunicorn pens and jellyfish pens and “Mystery Balls” and “Goop,” leaving most of the carefully arranged books untouched, except the diaries, which kids fought over between the stacks.
The previous year, a child had drawn penises with an invisible-ink pen all over the school so now Sylvie had to write down the name of every child who bought an invisible-ink pen. The book fair brought out the worst in the kids: They stole erasers, so Sylvie had to keep them behind the checkout desk and spend hours fetching them instead of shelving books! It was complete mayhem and despite prevailing beliefs, it barely raised a cent for her library.
Sylvie got a text from Simon asking her to call him at the same time she was breaking up a fistfight over a strawberry-scented journal with a lock and strawberry-shaped key. She confiscated the “Plush Strawberry Milk Gel Patch” journal (it was the last one available) and said no one would have it, and both of the brawling girls began sobbing.
Sylvie sold out of erasers shaped like video-game consoles and “floating ice cream” pens (each looked like a mini lava lamp) and a book about how to make “Cat’s Cradle” with colored string included. They sold out of “Dainty Donut-Scented Markers.” There was another fight, this time overBattle Dragons: City of Speed,a paperback book that came with a metal dragon necklace attached. One six-year-old, Francis, had bought the book, but another boy, Robert, had stolen the necklace and was caught wearing it brazenly, gleaming on top of his “Go, Gators” T-shirt. Robert had arrived in school the week before speaking three words of English (I thank you). Sylvie broke up the fight, returned the trinket, then bought another copy ofBattle Dragons: City of Speedfor the library, removed the necklace, went to find Robert in After-Care (which was held in the cafeteria), and secured it around his neck.
“I thank you,” said Robert.
As a treat, Sylvie bought a third copy ofBattle Dragons: City of Speed,removed the dragon jewelry, and put it on herself. Thedragon’s stomach was made of a green stone, and she thought it looked great against her buttoned-up pink cardigan.
When Sylvie got home, Simon’s truck was parked in her driveway. And on the porch swing, where she’d once whiled away the evening with Alexander, was Simon. He stood when he saw her, grinning.
She loved his height, broad shoulders, and sleek muscles. He was dressed in khaki shorts and a pastel-blue T-shirt. “Sylvie!” he said.
Simon came forward and hugged her. She snuggled in, filled with a calm joy.
A child’s voice pierced Sylvie’s lovestruck daze: “Your dog wants to get out!”
From the far side of Sylvie’s house, next to Willie’s outdoor pen, a girl appeared. She was eleven years old, her hair long and tangled. She smiled, exposing buck teeth. She wore sequined pants, a SpongeBob T-shirt, and Adidas sneakers that matched her father’s.
“Your dog wants to get out,” repeated the girl. Behind her, Willie whined at the gate. Alexander had built a dog door that allowed Willie to access a gated dog run even while Sylvie was at work.
“Penelope,” said Sylvie. She felt tears behind her eyes. This girl wasmorethan Sylvie had imagined. She wasreal;she washere. The freckles! The too-big sneakers! The way she said of Willie, who was wagging her tail and quivering with excitement, “I think maybe she’s too hot out here? Or maybe she just really wants to meet me.”
“Her name is Willie,” Sylvie told Penelope. “She sometimes bites people, so be careful.”
“Hold on,” said Simon. “Did you say shebites people?”
“Once,” clarified Sylvie. “She bit someone once. That’s why she was at the shelter. But it’s never happened again.”
“Are you scared she’ll bite you?” asked Penelope.
“She is how she is,” said Sylvie. “It’s not her fault what’s happened to her. If she bites me, I’ll get stitched up. But I don’t think she will.”
Penelope thought that over for a moment, then nodded. “Well, come on!” she said. “We need to walk her!”
“We do,” said Sylvie.
“Well, where the heck is her leash?” said Penelope, putting her hands on her hips, looking just like Simon. Simon met Sylvie’s gaze with an expression that said,Didn’t I tell you she’s the greatest child in the world?Sylvie nodded.
Penelope’s fingernails were painted green and gold.
