Page 88 of Falling for Keeps

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say.” I give her a look, then pull out a frying pan and pour my eggs into it. “I’m excited to get pumpkins on my nails, okay?”

“Nana, do you want them too?”

“Maybe this weekend? I don’t usually wear polish into work.”

“Finish your breakfast, Penny.”

She rolls her eyes. Then they light up because her phone starts ringing in its place on the counter. I’m closer, so I lean over and see Mom flash on the screen.

Penny races for the phone and tugs it free from the charging cord, putting it to her ear. “Mom!”

I can’t hear Jen’s side of the conversation, but I can see the energy swirling through my daughter. Her excitement hurts in so many ways. It wouldn’t bother me if Jen was more available, but knowing how badly Penny wants to hear from her mom and how infrequently it happens kills me in some ways.

“That’s so cool,” Penny says.

I put my plate of hot scrambled eggs on the table and sit down with a fork. Mom gives me a look, releasing a soft, quiet sigh.

“Did you paint the rooms in your new—” Penny falls still. “Okay. That’s so cool, Mom.”

Penny listens for a while. When she finally puts down the phone, I don’t think she even said goodbye. She’s quiet when she plugs it back into the wall and leaves the kitchen.

“Hold up, Penny. What happened?”

“Nothing,” she calls.

“Didn’t sound like nothing.”

“Don’t worry about it, Dad.” She shuts her bedroom door and I deflate.

“The last thing she’s going to want to do is go to work with me today.”

“You could let her run the booth with you. Give her a special job like handing out toothbrushes.”

“Good idea.”

Mom seems hesitant. She scrapes the remainder of her oatmeal into a pile, then flattens it out.

“If you have advice for me, just say it.”

“Don’t push her too soon. If something happened with her mom, she’ll come to you. But you want to leave room for her to feel her feelings, too.”

“Okay.” I hate that advice, but I can see the wisdom in it. “Thanks, Mom.”

She gets up, putting her bowl and Penny’s into the dishwasher, then comes around and hugs me, kissing the top of my head. “It’ll all work out.”

Maybe so, but how much am I going to ruin my child in the process?

The only thing that has seemed to cheer Penny up in the last few days since her mom called is the prospect of her aunt coming with us to the football game tonight. I’ve asked subtly a few times if everything is okay, and each time Penny shrugs me off. Emma came over last night after the town’s potluck dinner, where we barely talked and exchanged glances from afar for most of the night—her sitting with her family, me with mine. Penny painted Emma’s nails to match ours while we had Hocus Pocus playing in the background. Yellow, orange, and sparkly red like the leaves that cover our town, with a pumpkin-like blob on her thumbnail.

It’s pretty cute. It’s even cuter that Emma seems to genuinely love her nails.

Even Emma picking up on Penny’s lack of energy and asking about it yielded no results. I’m this close to calling Jen, but I’m sure that wouldn’t help.

“What time is Aunt Maven coming?” Penny asks for the fortieth time.

“This afternoon. Still.”

Penny groans, throwing herself on the sofa. We got home from work so I could change before the high school’s homecoming game. We’re going to be late.