Ah, that’s my girl.
“Dinner’s ready!” Fia calls out, slightly out of breath as she brings the glass casserole dish to the big oak table.
I drop down into my usual seat—same one I sat in all those years ago. It’s an old habit I don’t think much of.
It didn’t feel weird until Penny walked in and halted.
Her eyes flicker to the empty seat beside me—her seat. She hesitates, and I try not to overthink it. Does she really hate me so much that she can’t sit next to me?
She puffs her cheeks and quickly drops into the dining chair across from me.
Danny’s spot.
“Damn, chef, you didn’t have to do this.” I grin at Fia, who exhales, proudly scanning the meal she’s prepared. Wafts of hearty roasted vegetables and warm tomato sauce fill the air between the three of us.
“This is fun for me. Plus, when else is my family all going to be under one roof?” She glances at the empty chair. “Well,almostall.”
I don’t miss the shadow that passes over Penny’s face.
“Yes, thank you. It was very thoughtful,” Penny chimes in, sounding robotic. “Is this Nan’s recipe?”
Fia nods, scooping a large square of lasagna onto her blue ceramic plate. “Yes! It’s my first attempt, so I doubt it’s as good as hers, though.”
Fia continues talking, something about a friend, maybe school or work. To be honest, I’m not really listening.
I’m watching Penny, sitting rigidly upright in her seat, eyes trained down.
She’s barely touched her food, she just drags her fork in slow circles around her plate. She nods at all the right moments, even mumbles a few polite responses, but she’s somewhere else entirely.
And I know that look. I’ve seen it before—when she’s lost in her head, trying to sort through something she doesn’t want anyone else to notice.
But I notice, and when I have a chance to pull her back in, I do.
“So photography, huh?”
“What?” Penny’s eyes flick to mine, her brow creased.
“You’re a traveling wedding photographer, no?” I take a large bite.
“You’re phrasing it like it’s a question.” Her voice is cool and controlled. “But it’s clear you already know the answer.”
“You’re right,” I bite out, sharp, as she stares at me, daring me to continue. “I found your social media account. You have quite the following.”
From the corner of my eye, I catch Fia pressing her lips together, barely holding back a smirk.
“She’s huge,” she jumps in, throwing an arm around Penny’s shoulders. “She got hired to shoot a pro hockey player’s wedding in Tulum a few months ago.”
Penny closes her eyes with a groan, peeling Fia off her, and mutters, “Let’s not go there,Fia,” before stuffing an oversized bite of lasagna in her mouth.
“Tulum, huh?” I lean back in my chair, arms crossed over my chest. “Never been.”
“Oh my gosh, Penny, you have to tell him about the groomsmen!”
Penny shakes her head furiously, a blush crawling up her cheeks.
“It’s a wild story.” Fia wiggles her brows at me.
“Jesse, why don’t you tell me about your job.” Penny tries to shift the conversation, but Fia continues as if she didn’t hear her sister’s interjection.
