All Stars Fall (Seaside Pictures #3.5)(5)

“Yeah well, Mom’s not here!” Eric shoved him. “So just drop it.”

The pain was evident in Eric’s face, in Malcom’s voice, hell, in the size of Bella’s tears.

I was failing them.

I loved them more than anything in the world.

And I was failing them when they needed me the most.

I let out a helpless sigh. “Coats and shoes, we’re going to the store.”





Chapter Three



Penelope




I spent the entire day unpacking, downed at least two glasses of wine before crashing on the small couch I’d brought from Montana, and nearly missed my first shift.

I still hadn’t showered from the day before, which meant I smelled like potato chips and road kill, but I didn’t want to be late, especially since I knew that the alternative was unpacking more boxes and wondering what the heck I was thinking driving from everything I knew in Montana.

To a strange place where I had exactly one friend who barely spent any time in the area because she was married to a famous actor.

Like A-list famous.

What did I expect?

That I’d get here and everything would suddenly feel fresh and perfect just like the salty ocean breeze?

I threw on a Nike sweatshirt, a pair of leggings, tennis shoes, and a Mets baseball hat that I’d purchased on a whim because I liked the colors.

Yeah, I was that person.

I didn’t have time to do much to my face, so I swiped it with a makeup wipe, grabbed mascara, and then added a touch of pink lip gloss.

This, I sighed as I stared in the small mirror, was as good as it was going to get.

I exhaled and locked up the house, then made my way over to the small coffee shop. The lights were already on, even though the door was locked. Jennifer said she’d arrive early and get the first pot of coffee going for me so I would actually make it through the busy morning.

I wondered what she meant by busy.

Especially after looking up and down the dead streets of Seaside.

It was five a.m.

And the only things I saw wandering around were seagulls that seemed hell-bent on diving toward the water in search of food.

Despite the tattered screen, the small coffee shop was inviting, homey in a way that made my chest ache.

One thing that the universe never seems to remind you about fresh starts: they’re almost always extremely lonely and uncomfortable no matter how fresh they can be.

I loved the ocean.

I loved to travel.

It was an adventure, right?

An adventure at 27.

Don’t focus on the past, focus on the now.

The now is all you can control, right? Inhale, exhale, exist in the moment, and make yourself a coffee.

I pulled three espresso shots, dumped them into a cup, added a bit of cream, and chugged the thing before making sure the cash register was flipped on and counting the till.

By the time I was done making sure the store was ready to go, it was time to flip the sign.

How very exciting.

Not.

I flipped from Closed to Open and took the few steps back behind the counter, wondering if I would need another three shots of coffee. The bell over the door rang.

An elderly man in his seventies gave me a wave with a newspaper. “Extra hot drip, black.” He held out exactly one dollar and seventy-five cents and then honest to God dropped a dime in my tip jar.

The only reason I didn’t gawk was because he had a Vietnam Vet hat on, and he looked like the sort of old man you’d want as your grandfather, especially during Christmas time—yeah, he’d be the grandpa that would put an orange in everyone’s stocking and do magic tricks on your birthday with napkins and pieces of licorice.

Where the heck was I getting all of this?

I needed to stop watching the Hallmark movie channel ASAP.

“Oh!” He turned on his heel and then pointed the same newspaper at me. “Now if we get too loud, just say the word. We can get pretty rowdy!”

I bit back a smile. “I promise I’ll let you know. I’m Penelope, by the way.”

He beamed. “I know! Jennifer told us all about you. Don’t you worry, this is one of the best places to live in the Pacific Northwest. Remember what I said.”

“Scout’s honor.” I winked just as the bell went off again.

Eight more men walked in, all around the same age, with a flurry of canes and walkers, and every single one of them ordered a black coffee except for the last one, who had the most beautiful brown skin and wide smile. “I need a little sugar.”

I let out a little laugh. “All right, so you want sugar in your coffee?”

“Oh no, I think I want a latte today, can you surprise me?”

“You mean with the flavor?”

He gave me a sheepish grin. “Every day’s a new day, isn’t it? Why not try something new? Life’s too short, Penelope.”

Did everyone know my name?

“Okay.” I quickly pulled his shot, steamed the milk and handed him his drink.

Exact change.

Again.

Well, at least my job was easy.

The morning crowd was indeed loud, but only because they were arguing about football. Apparently, we had a few Seahawks fans still upset over the Patriots beating them in the Super Bowl.

It was hard not to grin as they bickered.