Broken Resolutions (12 page)

Since then, she’d found herself loath to leave bed in the mornings and was sleepwalking through her days. The pottery class hadn’t happened, at least not for her. She’d canceled and hadn’t even asked for a refund. She didn’t go out with friends. Not that she socialized much anyway, but still. She stayed on her couch at home more than normal. Even books no longer held her attention as they always had previously.

Her days at work had become an unending stream of tedium, punctuated by moments of anguish when she’d see someone who’d come to the event on New Year’s Eve. Tasha and Yolanda had arrived holding hands. Clarence had checked out a few books featuring the dread pirate Armando. Cologne Guy had dropped by a few times. The first visits he’d made alone, but recently he’d come accompanied by Skintight Dress. They seemed happy together, and Penny was glad. Even Red Tie had stopped in once, cornering her by the audiobooks to talk about himself for a few minutes.

If Brenda had visited the library, she’d come while Penny wasn’t working. And while Penny liked the older woman, her absence was a relief. Penny didn’t need any more reminders of Jack. She was having a hard enough time forgetting him without seeing his mother.

And, of course, there was the man himself. After a week of returning his letters and bouncing back his e-mail messages, she’d known he’d eventually arrive on the library doorstep. He was too stubborn not to try to change her mind in person. So when she’d seen that familiar figure walk toward the front door, she’d fled. Like an abject coward, as Angie had told her.

Coward she might be, but this coward knew her limits. Jack Williamson was dangerous to her. So much so that even the sight of him from a distance was enough to make her cry for hours when she finally got home.

She understood that pining over a man she’d known for ten hours—especially one she’d sent away—was ridiculous. But the sheer ludicrousness of her misery didn’t diminish it one bit. Instead, she felt foolish
and
miserable.

“Penny, you need to give that man a chance to make it up to you.” For once, Angie’s expression was completely serious. Grave, even. “He genuinely cares about you. I could tell when I talked to him. And God knows you need him too. You’ve been cranky and miserable for weeks now. Either you take him back or I’m going to put you down like Old Yeller.”

“Even if I could forgive him . . .” Penny closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m not the right woman for him. He’s a handsome, bestselling genius who’s written some of the best-reviewed books of the last decade. He might think he’s falling in love with me, but he’s not. I’m not enough. And eventually he’ll realize it.”

“Trust yourself, honey,” Angie said. “And trust him. If he’s such a genius, shouldn’t he be able to figure out whether he really cares about you?”

Penny opened her eyes and glanced at the clock. “Time to open, Angie.”

Her friend strode for the door. Right before unlocking it, she paused. “Will you think about it? Please?”

Penny gave Angie a sad smile. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”

“Good,” Angie said. “I hope it was a productive moment of thought. Because Brenda is waiting outside this door, right beside Freddie and his mom. And I know she has something to say to you.”

Penny’s mouth dropped open, even as her heart began to race. With fear? Excitement? She honestly didn’t know.

Angie flipped the lock, opened the door, and walked outside. “Hi, Brenda. Hi, Marge. Hi, Freddie. No, Freddie, I don’t need a kiss. Keep that tongue away from me.”

“Where are you going?” Penny shouted after her.

“Outside. Thanks for watching the desk while I’m gone. Bye!” With one last wave, Angie disappeared around the corner of the building.

There was no time to hide under the desk before Brenda approached her. The woman looked more vivacious than Penny had ever seen her, her eyes sparkling with happiness. Happiness and . . . determination. Brenda was clearly a woman on a mission, and Penny seemed to be her primary objective.

Brenda didn’t bother with meaningless chitchat. “Penny, I wanted to thank you for hosting that New Year’s Eve event. Without that party, I’d never have met Carl. We’ve been dating ever since, and I couldn’t be happier.”

Penny exhaled in relief. If Brenda wanted to talk about her newfound relationship with Carl, no problem. Penny could handle it.

She smiled at Brenda. “I’m so glad to—”

“However, my son could be happier.
Much
happier. With you. And that’s why I’m here today.”

Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit
.

“I know he lied to you like an idiot,” Brenda said, rolling her eyes. “I know you’re a reserved woman who probably wants nothing to do with a man who’ll always be in the media spotlight, no matter how much he tries to avoid it. And I know you haven’t talked to him since that night at the library.”

Unable to say a word, Penny just looked at Brenda.

Luckily, Brenda didn’t seem to require a reply. “But you need to forgive him. He didn’t want to lie to you. He tells people he’s an accountant to avoid media attention. Partly because he’s a private person, but mostly because he doesn’t want Casey growing up under scrutiny. So until he met you and figured out he could trust you, there was no way he could tell you he’s a writer.”

“Yes, but after we met—” Penny began to protest.

“He should have told you. You’re right. But it’s hard for him to trust people. His ex-wife gave an interview after their divorce, and she knew how he felt about publicity. She knew how much he wanted to keep Casey out of the spotlight.”

I remember that interview
, Penny thought.
Poor Jack. Poor Casey. And no wonder he said he found trusting people difficult. I can’t blame him.

Brenda added, “More than that, he’d already figured out you were shy. He wanted to have some time to get to know you before his work scared you away.”

Well, he certainly got to know me. In at least two ways. One biblical
.

“I appreciate you coming here.” Penny’s brow furrowed. “What you’ve said certainly makes it hard to stay angry at him. But—”

“Oh, feel free to be angry,” Brenda said. “It was a stupid move. But then forgive him, Penny. He needs you. He’s been miserable since that night at the library.”

The rush of pleasure Penny felt at that statement didn’t say good things about her character, she was sure. But she couldn’t deny it, just as she couldn’t deny her fundamental personality.

“Like I said, I appreciate everything you’ve told me.” She forced a smile. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m not the right woman for him. He needs someone who’s more confident. A woman who can handle the media attention.”

Brenda looked at her with assessing eyes. “Do you love Jack?”

Penny’s smile disappeared, and it took a long moment before she could make herself answer. “Yes,” she finally said. “I do. Even though I don’t think I’m the right woman for him.”

“Then read the dedication page in this.” Brenda held out a book, waiting until Penny took it. “I think it’s safe to say that my son doesn’t agree with you.”

“What is this?” Penny asked. “His new book isn’t coming out for a few months.”

“Advance Reader Copy. I put a note with Jack’s home address inside. He’s there writing today. Alone. Just in case you might want to visit,” Brenda said, and then turned for the door.

“Brenda—” she called, but the woman just gave a wave and left.

Penny looked around the library, but the only patrons inside were Freddie and his mother, and they both seemed fully occupied at the moment. He was licking board books, and she was attempting to stop him from licking board books. They could survive without her.

She ducked inside the workroom, her knees weak with anxiety and hope. The book in her hand felt heavy.
Plain and Simple
, by John Williamson, bestselling author, recluse, and her one-time lover. Well, two-time lover, to be precise.

There it was, at the front of the book. His dedication page.

T
O
PC: Y
OU
ARE
NO
BIRD
;
AND
NO
NET
ENSNARES
YOU
. Y
OU
ARE
A
FREE
HUMAN
BEING
WITH
AN
INDEPENDENT
WILL
,
WHICH
YOU
EXERTED
TO
LEAVE
ME
. Y
OUR
WILL
SHALL
DECIDE
YOUR
DESTINY
.

B
UT
I
OFFER
YOU
MY
HAND
,
MY
HEART
,
AND
A
SHARE
OF
ALL
MY
POSSESSIONS
. I
ASK
YOU
TO
PASS
THROUGH
LIFE
AT
MY
SIDE
—
TO
BE
MY
SECOND
SELF
,
AND
BEST
EARTHLY
COMPANION.

P
LEASE
. I’
M
BLEEDING
INWARDLY
. D
ON
’
T
FORGET
ME
.

Penny closed her eyes.
Jane Eyre
. Jane fucking Eyre. Again. The man was hitting her where it hurt, and he knew it. He knew her.

Her eyes blinked open. He did. He knew her. And he still wanted her, even though she was shy, little, and obscure. Even though she’d made him leave and spurned his apologies. Even though she hadn’t responded to his declaration of love and had, in fact, declared it a lie. Even though he didn’t know she loved him back.

“Shit,” she said aloud in the workroom. “I’m going to have to break my goddamn New Year’s resolution again, aren’t I?”

When Jack’s doorbell rang, he groaned. His mother, worried about his state of mind, had taken to dropping by the house unexpectedly. While he loved Brenda and enjoyed talking to her, he also enjoyed solitude, time to write, and the opportunity to feel miserable without an audience.

He trudged toward the door. He hadn’t expected her to come so soon. She should have received an Advance Reader Copy of his book yesterday. Typically, when she did, she’d spend the next afternoon reading it and then call him in the evening to talk about it. But maybe she’d stayed up reading the whole night and decided to discuss it with him in person.

He’d also made sure to direct a copy of his book to the library, but it might take a while for Penelope and Angie to see it. That is, if Angie even bothered to tell Penelope it had arrived. And Penelope was willing to look at it. And she noticed the dedication page.

He hung his head, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. It was all so uncertain. But he’d done the best he could to show Penelope how he felt about her in terms she would understand and appreciate. Terms that would hopefully convince her to give him another chance. All he could do now was wait.

To his shock, he opened the door to find Penelope standing on his front stoop, his book clutched in one small hand. She was even paler than she’d been on New Year’s Eve. There were dark shadows beneath her eyes, and her short hair was rumpled, as if she’d been running her hands through it. Her plain white shirt hung in wrinkled folds, and her pants were wet around the hem from melting snow.

She looked wonderful. Perfect.

“Please tell me you haven’t blinded yourself to recreate
Jane Eyre
more faithfully,” she said. “Though I wouldn’t leave you, it would make our daily life much more challenging.”

Our
daily life. What did that mean? Was she making a joke, or was she seriously proposing a future together? He edged a little closer to her, and she didn’t back away.

“That was my next step,” he replied. “Right after acquiring a crazy wife, installing her in the attic, and setting my house on fire.”

“Glad I caught you early in the process.” She looked up at him with a tentative smile. “May I come in?”

Had she forgiven him? He couldn’t see any anger in her eyes or posture. No defensiveness. No betrayal.

He moved aside and watched her walk into his home, the place where he’d imagined her hundreds of times. Thousands. He’d pictured waking up with her in his bed each morning, talking to her throughout each day, and reading side by side each evening.

He couldn’t think about how he’d pictured their nights, or else he was going to embarrass himself in front of her. “You got my book in the library delivery already?” he asked, waving her toward his couch.