“It’s Penny.” The false name rolled off her lips without a qualm. “Penny Lane.”
“You take care of yourself, Miss Lane. It’s a worrisome world these days.”
“Yes, ma’am, I will. You take care of yourself, as well.”
April moved gracefully to her car, gave the elderly woman a final wave, and then drove sedately out of the neighborhood.
If Jenny had worked at a chain restaurant outside Waco, and a roadhouse at the same time, then it was to Waco she was bound. That would be a good two-and-a-half-hour drive. It was heading toward the busiest driving time of the day, so perhaps the best thing for her to do would be to go back to her hotel here in Dallas so she could plot her next moves, going forward.
The first item on her list was to find a town called Lusty and learn all there was to know about it. The second was to grab herself some hair color and styling gel. She needed to change her appearance slightly. I haven’t had black hair in a while. The color change, a different hairstyle, and a less naïve persona, and Mrs. Paulson wouldn’t recognize her if they came face to face. But more, she wouldn’t look like Penny Lane, should Jenny hear of a visit from and a description of her ersatz college chum.
* * * *
Jenny had been raised by parents who’d truly loved her. There’d been no extended family in her formative years—no uncles or aunts, and no grandparents, as they had all passed before she’d been adopted. She’d never experienced the sensation of having a family unit say to her, “We’ve got your back.” But that was exactly what happened, not only Thursday night but again on Saturday morning.
The July day dawned sunny and hot, but Jenny loved the heat. Hat on her head, sunscreen applied, she’d walked from her apartment to the Parkview Inn to have breakfast with her parents and to see them safely off on their journey home.
She’d heard that Maggie often ate breakfast with her guests, so her appearance at the table didn’t even register. The arrival of her husbands, however, did. Judging by the way the three men pitched in, as well as keeping an eye on their very pregnant wife, she guessed Rick, Trevor, and Kevin had been doing so for a while. They seemed to have it down to a fine science.
Conversation ranged all over the place. Camille and Maggie compared notes on the Jersey Shore, as Jenny’s mother had also been born in that area, moving to Texas when she was in her early twenties. Kevin, Trevor, and Rick engaged her father in talk of business. Her father had spent a lifetime working for himself, creating but also re-working security software. He’d retired recently, but he’d loved his work and still dabbled, consulting from time to time. He liked to call it “keeping his hand in.” Soon their discussion dissolved into complicated exchanges about bits and bytes and other lingo Jenny really didn’t understand.
Before the meal was over, Rick and her dad had exchanged business cards, and her mom and Maggie had swapped email contact information.
As she was standing on the sidewalk in front of the inn, waving good-bye to her parents, Maggie Benedict came and stood beside her and slipped one arm around her waist. Her other hand rested on her swollen belly. It was a gesture she’d seen a few pregnant women perform. It’s as if they’re caressing their babies before they’re born. It was a nice thought and something to put a smile on her face after that baffling breakfast.
The Benedicts had treated her parents like…well, like family.
“I recognized the puzzled look on your face in there because I used to wear one just like it,” Maggie said.
Jenny shook her head. “I’ve worked at the roadhouse for nearly two years and have lived in Lusty for about half that time. I’ve seen the way folks are around here.”
“You just never thought all that family mojo would be centered around you.”
“Not on me and not on my folks. I mean, Thursday night at Ari’s, yeah. Ari and I have been BFFs more or less since I landed in the area. That supper, and that…that love wasn’t unexpected, but it was very much appreciated. That night I nearly blubbered like a baby.”
“And you thought that was the whole of it.”
“I did, yes.”
“Baby? We cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher. A fresh pot of coffee is on, and the cups and things are out.” Kevin came down the steps and stood on the other side of Maggie.
They must be expecting other company. “Thanks for making my folks feel so welcome. I’ll just get out of your way—”
“You can’t go yet,” Maggie said that before Jenny could even finish her sentence.
“I can’t?” Jenny turned so she was facing Maggie.
“No, you can’t,” Trey said as he joined them on the sidewalk. “We just put out a big plate of Aunt Anna’s cookies.”
“Cookies?”
“Yup. Cookies and coffee. The fuel of the best war councils.” Rick stood on the porch above them.
“War council?” She knew for certain right then and there, that there must have been something in the air or the water or the soil or, heck, maybe all three, after all! If she saw a plate of cookies with a sign that read “Eat me,” she was not going to do it. Nope, uh-uh, not at all. No way. She was already down the rabbit hole because she had no idea what these people were talking about.
“Yes, war council,” Kevin said. “And here comes yours, now.”
Jenny looked up and encountered what, for Lusty, would be considered a case of heavy traffic. She recognized Parker and Dale’s truck. They brought up the rear. Within barely a minute, that line of vehicles came to a stop. There were Montana Benedicts and Texas Benedicts, as well as Kendalls and Jessops and even a Jones or two.
“A war council?” Jenny
