Things still felt off. Penny got the impression she was being forced out, which made her wonder what they’d all been discussing while she was gone. Accusing her friend of being up to something didn’t seem like the best idea, though.
“Right, Bottles and Cans it is. But we’re walking.” Penny wasn’t taking any chances. There had been too many times in college when going out for one with Bonnie had ended much differently.
“Okaaaay,” she called out to her parents. “We’re going.”
“Driving?” her dad called back.
“No. Walking,” Penny said insistently, giving Bonnie’s barely-there sandals a scrutinizing stare. Then, in a quieter voice, “It is six blocks.”
“Give me two minutes.” Bonnie hopped up a little faster than a woman mourning her relationship probably should.
“Smart girl, Penny-pop,” Teddy yelled back again. “If you need a lift later, just give me a call, and I’ll come get you.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
Walking down the quiet street with the well-groomed lawns, flower arrangements planted with care, and bowls of water left out for thirsty dogs, Bonnie hooked her arm through Penny’s.
“Thanks, friend.”
Penny leaned in, bumping shoulders gently with her. “I haven’t even done anything yet. You seemed upset when I got back, but now you almost seem like your old self. Felix didn’t by any chance…?”
At the mere mention of his name, Bonnie stumbled, gripping her friend’s arm tighter to steady herself.
“Sorry,” Penny said instantly, realizing her mistake. “I just hoped, but no, never mind.”
Bonnie straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin even as a tear slid down her face. “I’m not going to just shut down because of him. I lost a year of my life after my mom left, and I won’t let someone do that to me again.”
Penny squeezed the hand holding her arm. “And I’ll help you however I can,” she reassured.
“Good. I’m counting on it.”
If she’d been paying better attention instead of wondering what could possibly be going on in Felix’s head, Penelope might have heard the forewarning there. But she didn’t.
When they arrived at Bottles & Cans, Penny motioned towards the last free picnic table, a bright red umbrella shading it partially from the sun. “Or would you prefer inside?”
“No. This is fine.”
Penny wondered at how, even in her upset state, Bonnie still looked flawless. She had changed into a white summer dress with pink flowers that clung flatteringly to her stomach before flowing out over her legs to skim her knees. She now wore matching white sandals, only slightly sturdier than the last pair. Her thick strawberry-blonde hair was held out of her face by a new pair of sunglasses resting on top of her head, and her eyes were a clear bright green again, all signs of the red rims from earlier gone. Penny, on the other hand, was wearing a pair of cut-offs, sneakers, and a loose blue T-shirt, her brown hair up in a casual ponytail.
A waitress came over, handing them drink menus. “I’ll be with you in just a minute,” she said pleasantly.
“Sure,” Penny acknowledged while Bonnie’s eyes narrowed in concentration. “They make their own beers and seltzers here, remember?”
Bonnie flipped her menu over, looking unsatisfied. “Don’t they do liquor?”
“They have a few signature cocktails, but they’re pretty strong,” Penny warned.
Bonnie’s finger was already pointing, her white teeth showing as her lips spread apart. “They have sangria.”
“Strong,” Penny reiterated.
“Remember that time we went to Chicago? When we went to that amazing Spanish tapas place with the gorgeous little patio out the back?”
“You had just broken up with Tim and needed cheering up.”
“We had the best weekend! And you totally cheered me up. It was just what we needed, getting away.”
The waitress reappeared then.
