“Kacee, that’s not brunch. That’s milk and sugar. It’ll rot your teeth. Or brain,” Penelope teases. She takes the bowl out of my hands and sets it in the sink, ignoring me.
“Hey!” I protest.
“Go put some clothes on,” Penelope orders. “And brush your hair and teeth too.” She gives me a wink.
I grumble as I stand from the table to head back toward my bedroom. I catch a glimpse of myself and realize I do look like a hot mess. Penelope smiles and watches me as I pass.
She stops me before I can make it to my bedroom. “Are you okay?”
“Just feeling lonely, I guess.” There’s so much truth in my words.
Penelope gives me a big hug. “Thankfully, I’m here!”
“Thank you,” I tell her, really grateful she is. I go to my room and walk inside my closet. I stand there for a couple of minutes before asking Penelope for help.
“I love playing dress up.” Penelope laughs and starts digging through my hanging clothes. “I’ll find you an outfit while you fix that hair.”
“Fine,” I say. Penelope claps me on the shoulder and shoves me over toward the bathroom. I brush the knots out of my long, blonde hair and put it in a side braid. I brush my teeth again, wash my face, and then go back out to my bedroom to face whatever Penelope has chosen for me to wear.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I say when Penelope holds up a dress. It’s the same color green as my eyes, nice and summery, but I’m not in the mood for it.
She hands me the dress. “You know it looks great on you, and you’ll feel better wearing it. Put it on. It’s hard to not be happy in a dress like this.”
I glare at her for another few seconds before surrendering and putting it on. I’m petite, just over five feet tall, and I have natural curves. The dress hugs every one of them. I look in the mirror and shift a little, checking out the back of my dress.
“I was thinking these shoes,” Penelope says, holding out a nice pair of sandals, and I take them.
“Why bother dressing me up?” I ask. “Guys never talk to me anyways.”
“Getting dressed up is for yourself, not for anyone else so put the shoes on,” she demands with a cheeky grin. “Where’s your makeup case?” She’s enjoying this a little too much.
“Bathroom,” I tell her, sliding my shoes onto my feet. I adjust the dress again, then sit on the bed when she returns with my makeup. Carefully she puts a light layer of foundation on. I let Penelope work, keeping my eyes shut and thinking about what I’m ordering for brunch.
“Hey, wake up. I’m done,” Penelope teases, and my eyes snap open. “I think you drifted a little.”
“Maybe just a little,” I admit with a grin. I stand and look in the full-length mirror on the back of my closet
“Who is this person?” I ask. Penelope rolls her eyes and laughs.
“My best friend,” she says, confidently. “Let’s go get ourselves something good to eat. I’ve been up at my brother’s cabin for two days, and all he has is dried meat and apples.”
“Your brother is weird,” I tell her even though I have never met her mysterious brother. All I know is he’s a widower, has two kids, and is paranoid enough to hide in the mountains for longer than I’ve ever known Penelope. I actually don’t even know what he looks like.
“Yeah, you’re telling me.” Penelope snorts, leading me back through my apartment. “He’s a handful. Always thinks he can do everything himself.” She opens my front door and looks around the busy city street, then points across the way. “Wanna eat there?”
I look at the diner I used to stop at on my way home from the Millers’ house every day. I haven’t been inside since they left, and I realize now that I kind of miss it. “Yeah, sure.”
We walk across the street, and as soon as we step inside, the cook behind the counter yells my names as soon as he lays eyes on me. “Long time, no see. You been on vacation?”
“Kind of,” I tell him, shrugging. “I’m between jobs, so it’s almost a permanent vacation.” I smile.
“Let me know if you get desperate,” he says. “We could always use some extra help here.”
“Thanks, Matt.” He points at an empty table and ducks back into the kitchen to continue cooking. Penelope and I sit and open our menus. I glance out the window at all the people walking the streets on this beautiful day.
“Sorry about your brother,” I say, picking up the thread of conversation from earlier. “I know you miss him living close by.” He lives up in the mountains, about an hour drive away, and we live in the city.
“Nah, it’s fine. I just get frustrated with him. Those kids are gonna grow up weird and uneducated if he doesn’t let them out of their shell.” Penelope puts her chin in her hand and skims the menu. “But he’s decided he wants to homeschool them.”