Dreaming in Chocolate

by Susan Bishop Crispell

  “Not even close. And this isn’t helping,” Penelope said. Pushing back from the table, she prayed her voice would hold out against her emotions. “Actually, we need to get going. Ella, c’mon, sweetie.”

  The girls dropped to their knees and scuttled across the floor to her. “Please,” they said in unison. “Five more minutes?”

  “Nope, sorry. We need to get home.” Penelope held out her hand to tug Ella to her feet. “Say goodbye.”

  Ella ducked under the crutch Tucker had yet to drop and wrapped her arms around Noah’s waist. “Bye,” she whispered.

  Noah rubbed his hand on Ella’s back, holding her close for a second longer. He caught Penelope’s eyes over the top of Ella’s head and opened his mouth to say something, but ended up shaking his head and looking away.

  And somehow that made her feel even worse.

  23

  Now that the whole town knew the truth about how sick Ella was, Penelope didn’t have a good reason to keep putting off a few of Ella’s bucket list items. The one that had been on every variation of the list was to dye her hair. Technically the school had a policy against unnatural hair color, but she couldn’t see anyone in the administration punishing a dying girl for it.

  Let them try, she thought.

  “You know this is just going to keep everybody talking, right?” Megha asked as she plopped a tote bag full of hair-dyeing supplies on the kitchen table.

  “I don’t much care at this point,” Penelope said.

  “Good. So, does she know yet?”

  “Nope. I thought you’d want to see her reaction.”

  “Her smile is going to be epic. Thanks for waiting.”

  This surprise was the only thing that had gotten Penelope through the day without screaming at all of the premature condolences people went out of their way to give her. They meant well, she knew that, but did they have to act as if Ella was already gone?

  She leaned against the counter, mustering every ounce of happiness she could. “You’re doing all the work so you definitely deserve all her excitement.”

  Megha settled in beside her and dropped her head to Penelope’s shoulder. “I don’t know how you’re keeping it together so well.”

  “As long as she’s still here, it’s a good day,” Penelope said.

  “Damn right it is. Now let’s get her down here and liven things up.”

  They both called for Ella at the same time. When Ella skidded into the room looking as healthy as any normal eight-year old, they smiled as big as she did.

  Megha snagged Ella around the waist, bending down so their faces aligned. “Guess what we’re doing tonight?”

  “Eating dinner and drinking wine,” Ella said.

  “That does sound like a normal night,” Megha agreed with a laugh.

  “We don’t always drink wine,” Penelope said, but she failed to keep a straight face.

  “I know.” Ella tugged against Megha’s hold. “So, what are we doing then?”

  Spinning Ella out to arm’s length and then around to face her, Megha said, “We, my sweet girl, are going to knock a big life to-do item off of your list.”

  “Are we gonna dye my hair?”

  “As long as you still want to,” Penelope said. She walked over to Megha’s bag and peered inside. It looked like Megha had brought half her supplies over. Tubes of color and mixing bowls and brushes and black towels that wouldn’t show the excess dye filled the bag.

  Ella danced around the kitchen. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

  “Well, the only question now, kid, is what color?” Megha asked.

  “I can really have any color I want?” Ella came back to stand beside Megha, bouncing on her toes as the excitement refused to let her go.

  “Pretty much. I brought the basic colors I thought you might want, like pink and blue and purple. Or you could be like your mom when she was in high school and go teal.”

  Flashing a huge grin, Ella said, “I want purple. Like River’s mom.”

  Penelope would put good money on Layne allowing River to dye her hair too. Not during the school year, but she imagined summers at the Gregory house were full of wild-colored hair and even more laughter. Ella would have fit right in. The fact that Ella was half-Gregory would have only made the fit that much better. Penelope’s stomach lurched at the thought.

  “Noah’s sister-in-law?” Megha asked.

  “That’s the one.”

  Ella tugged on Megha’s arm, her expression melting into the dreamy smile and starry eyes she got anytime she talked about Noah. “Megha, are you friends with Noah too?” she asked. Even her voice turned sugary sweet.

  “You and Noah are on a first-name basis?” Megha asked and shot a curious look at Penelope. Her sculpted eyebrows drew together as she searched for a sign of some secret relationship with Noah that Penelope had been keeping from her.

  “Yeah. He’s my mom’s friend. But not like you are. He doesn’t come over for dinner. Or spend the night.”

  Penelope threw her hands up to keep the conversation from veering off course. “Before you ask, there is nothing going on. She’s talking about the night he came over to tell me about the boys who got into the shop. That’s it. So don’t get all excited.”

  Megha rolled her eyes as if she knew better than to believe that. “Yes, Ella, I know him. But apparently not as well as your mom.” She pushed back from the table and used Ella’s head as a makeshift bongo.

  Ella squirmed away from her, giggling. “What do you know about him?”

  “Let’s work on your hair while we gossip. That way you get the full salon experience.”

  The night was supposed to be about Ella getting something she wanted. Adding Noah into the mix—even tangentially—was asking for trouble. Ella was smart enough to know that if she put something on her bucket list, Penelope would eventually give in. What the hell would she do if Ella decided Noah belonged on her list?

  “Maybe this was a bad idea,” she muttered.

  “Too late now,” Megha said with a hint of laughter in her voice.

  Admitting defeat, Penelope hauled Megha’s bag over to the island and started unpacking it. She lined up each item on the edge of the counter so Megha would be able to reach them from where she had set up the other stool between the island and the sink. If the vibrant shade of violet on the tube of dye was the actual color, Ella’s hair was going to be visible from space. And Ella was going to love it. No question.

  Megha snapped a black cape around Ella’s neck to keep the dye from staining anything. Ella twirled in a circle so the cape billowed out around her like a fancy party dress. Then she climbed onto the stool, folding her arms beneath the fabric, and shook her hair back from her face.

  “Do you think Noah likes purple?” she asked.

  “You’ll have to ask him that the next time you see him,” Megha said.

  Ella kept up a steady stream of questions about Noah as Megha mixed the coloring, sectioned off small hunks of Ella’s hair with clips and foil sheets, and applied the bright purple paste with long, even strokes. What was he like when you were kids? What’s his favorite kind of chocolate? What’s his favorite song? Does he like cats? Why isn’t he married? Was he ever my mom’s boyfriend? Did you want him to be your boyfriend? Why doesn’t he live in Malarkey? Will he stay if we ask him to?

  Megha and Penelope both had answered “I don’t know” and “Maybe” and “You’ll have to ask him” so many times that finally Ella grumbled that she’d just ask River at school. But it was hard to take her annoyance seriously when her scalp was covered in strips of foil that fluttered every time she shook her head in disappointment at their answers.

  After Megha used a flatiron to heat-seal the color and then let it set for twenty minutes, she scooted a bar stool over to the sink and patted the seat for Ella to hop up again. While Ella got situated with a rolled towel between her neck and the counter, Megha ran the water, testing it with her fingers every few seconds until she was satisfied with the heat leve
l. Then she used the spray nozzle to wet down Ella’s short crop of hair and rinse off the excess color.

  “Hey, Mama. I have one last question,” she asked after Megha had draped one of the black towels over her head to catch any drips and she was allowed to sit up.

  “Okay. One more. But that’s it.” Not that she would have an answer to it either. In Noah Jeopardy, Penelope had a negative score.

  “Will you un-cancel the Festival of Fate so that I can drink the hot chocolate and wish that Noah will stay in town?”

  That was the last request she expected to get. Even though Penelope didn’t believe in the Kismet hot chocolate anymore, the idea that her daughter wanted to use it to keep Noah in their lives sent a jolt of panic through her. “You wouldn’t really use your wish on that, would you?”

  Ella jerked forward, sending the towel flying to the tiles below. She only stayed in the chair because Megha grabbed her shoulders and held her in place. “Mama, you saw what my necklace did around Noah. You know he’s supposed to be with us. I have to do something to make him realize he belongs here.”

  “You can’t use magic to make other people do things they don’t want to do.”

  “That’s not fair.” Ella’s elbows poked the cape as she slumped back into the chair and crossed her arms over her chest.

  Penelope leveled her gaze on her daughter. “No, what’s not fair is taking away someone’s choice just because you don’t like the other options.”

  Crap. That was exactly what she’d been trying to do with the festival. Good intentions or not.

  Sighing, she said, “You’ll just have to have faith that everything will work out the way it’s supposed to.” And try not to blame yourself if it doesn’t, she added silently.

  Before Ella could argue more, Megha switched on the hair dryer. Ella glared at her as if she knew Megha had done it on purpose, but she turned back around to let Megha finish. Megha brushed Ella’s hair out, the purple streaks clearly visible against the wet brown. Then she gave Penelope a look over Ella’s head that said she had some questions of her own for Penelope before this conversation was through.

  Penelope would take a little needling from her best friend about what was going on with Noah any day over trying to explain to Ella why wanting him in her life was a bad idea.

  Penelope leaned her elbows on the table and mouthed “fine.” Then she watched the thick purple chunks of hair get even more vibrant as they dried. The look was so perfectly Ella—all playful and bright—she hated that she had waited so long to agree to it.

  As soon as the dryer clicked off, Ella said, “Can I see?” Her excitement over her new hair momentarily overshadowed additional questions about Noah or the festival.

  Penelope fished the mirror out of Megha’s bag and handed it to her.

  Ella’s shout of delight filled the kitchen. “My hair’s even purpler than River’s mom’s!” Jumping from the stool, she raced over to give Penelope an up-close look.

  “I think it’s purpler than anything,” Penelope joked as she ran her hands through Ella’s soft strands.

  Megha paused washing her hands in the sink and looked at them over her shoulder. “Too much?” She unspooled a bunch of paper towels from the holder, transferring watery purple smudges from her skin to the paper before she’d actually started to dry her hands.

  “No.” Ella twisted around to face Megha, but kept her head tilted back so Penelope could keep playing with her hair.

  Before Ella had gotten sick and her hair still fell down to her shoulders, she’d loved to have Penelope run her fingers through it as she fell asleep. But since her hair had grown back in wavy and thinner than before she’d lost it due to the radiation treatments she’d had, she usually nudged Penelope’s hands away. Now maybe this one thing could go back to the way it was before.

  Penelope tipped her head forward and kissed one of the larger purple sections. “It’s actually pretty perfect.”

  “Pretty Perfect Purple. That’s what I’m going to tell everyone the color is. ’Cause it’s true,” Ella said.

  “I’m so glad you like it,” Megha said.

  “I love it!” Ella pulled away from Penelope then and rushed to wrap her arms around Megha’s waist. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

  “We should have done this months ago,” Megha said to Penelope, her eyes the tiniest bit wet.

  Penelope had to blink back her own tears at the happiness radiating off her daughter. This was exactly why they had started the list in the first place. All of the good moments they made couldn’t erase the bad ones, but at least it evened out the score a little.

  “No kidding,” Penelope said.

  She snapped a few photos with her phone at Ella’s insistence and had to promise not to post anything to her Facebook until Ella could show her grandmother, River, and Noah her hair in person. Then Ella made a show of checking the activity off her list with a purple pen she scrounged for in the kitchen junk drawer and holding it up so Penelope could take a picture of it too.

  “All right, Ella,” Penelope said when she was done. “I think it’s time for bed.”

  “But—”

  “Nope. Girls with purple hair don’t get to make the rules.”

  “River’s mom has purple hair and she makes the rules,” Ella said.

  She had Penelope there.

  “Yeah, but she’s the mom so that overrules the purple.” Penelope scooped her up before she could protest and carried her upstairs.

  After she’d brushed her teeth and Penelope had tucked her into bed, Ella stared up at her with a solemn expression replacing the joy she’d had a few minutes before. “Mama, don’t dye it back when I die, okay? I want to have purple hair when I go to heaven. Then everyone there will just think I’m this cool girl with purple hair who probably had lots of friends when she was alive. Then maybe they’ll all want to be my friend too and you won’t have to worry that I’m lonely there without you.”

  And just like that, the sadness flooded Penelope’s chest, constricting her lungs and stabbing her heart like hundreds of small needles. She took a few shallow breaths. “You are a very cool kid, purple hair or not. But I promise not to change it back.”

  Megha handed Penelope a glass of wine when she returned. “This was going to be happy wine, but with the way you look right now, it might have to be drown-your-sorrows wine. You okay?”

  “Ella wanted to make sure I didn’t dye her hair back to normal after she died so she could be the cool new girl in heaven.” Penelope took a long sip of wine to stave off Megha’s hug. Refusing to have the comfort she wanted to offer shrugged off so easily, Megha squeezed Penelope’s knee. “I don’t want to think about that right now, so please distract me.”

  “That I can definitely do. So, what’s with the twenty questions about Noah?” Megha leaned forward on the stool she had moved back into place at the island and pinned Penelope with a curious look.

  “Oh, don’t get me started,” Penelope said.

  “No, seriously. How does she even know him?”

  Oh, you know. Apart from being his secret love child? Penelope managed to keep the truth locked inside. “His niece is in school with Ella and we ran into them after he got back to town. And Ella fell instantly under his spell like the rest of you. It took all of two seconds for him to win her over and nothing I say about him sways her.”

  Megha sipped her wine and smiled into her glass.

  “What?”

  “So you’re still pretending he has no effect on you?” Megha asked.

  “He doesn’t.”

  “That is clearly a liar, liar, pants on fire statement if I ever heard one.”

  “Fine. You want me to agree that he’s still hot? He is. And yeah, maybe he knows how to look at a girl to make her brain temporarily stop functioning.” And maybe he looks at his niece like her laugh is the greatest sound in the world. For a second, Penelope imagined him looking at his daughter that way too, then had to remind herself they were all be
tter off with him not knowing Ella was his. “But I promise you falling for Noah Gregory is more trouble than it’s worth.”

  “You say that like you have some experience in that department. But I know that can’t be the case because you would’ve told me if something had happened between you and Noah. Because I’m your best friend and that’s not something you keep from best friends.” Megha set her drink aside and put both hands on the arms of Penelope’s stool. Twisting her so they were knee to knee—and Penelope had no way to escape—she said, “Right?”

  Penelope kept her eyes on her best friend’s. She didn’t even blink. “You just have to look at him to know he’s a bad idea.” Guilt from keeping her relationship with Noah from Megha won out and she looked away.

  “We are going to have to agree to disagree on that front.”

  If you only knew. Penelope tapped her fingers on the stem of her glass, focusing on the ripple effect it created in the wine. “I’m serious. Nothing good could come from starting something with a guy who a) is going to return to his life already in progress down in Charlotte sooner rather than later, b) has been avoiding Malarkey and everyone living in it for the better part of a decade, and c) has no interest in being in love.”

  Though Penelope had to concede that maybe Noah had no interest in being in love with her specifically.

  “Do you know for a fact that he has things tying him to Charlotte? I mean, if he’s able to just up and move here for a few months, what’s to say he can’t make it permanent?”

  “Can and want are very different things. And besides, even if Noah was to stay, I still wouldn’t want anything to do with him.”

  Break my heart once, shame on you. Break it twice …

  She wouldn’t give him the chance.

  24

  After dropping Ella off at school and having a conversation with Principal Davis about Ella’s hair, in which she made very clear it was not reverting to its natural color and the school would just have to live with it, Penelope swung across town to the mayor’s office. She’d put off making a decision about the festival long enough.