Playing at Forever - By Michelle Brewer Page 0,72

asked, setting her bag on the floor.

“Nothing yet, dear. We have plenty of time to relax.”

Great, because that was exactly what she wanted. Lots of time to spend with her parents and her fake husband.

But rather than say anything, she smiled brightly—even as Tommy tucked his arm around her waist.

“Come in, sit down, make yourselves comfortable.” Her dad urged and Penny sighed, slipping her shoes off and crossing the room to sit on the sofa. Tommy joined her, now casually draping his arm around her shoulders. “How was your flight? And the drive?”

“Oh, everything was great,” Tommy smiled. “One of the perks of chartering your own plane. Minimizes holiday traffic.”

“That’s one of the perks, I’m sure!” Marion laughed. “It must be nice.”

“I haven’t minded,” Penny admitted bashfully.

“I think our little Penelope has developed a bit of a taste for the finer things, these days.” Tommy told her parents, a teasing tone in his voice.

“It’s all about quality, Tommy. Not quantity.” She reminded him, looking him directly in the eye as if to convey some secret message to him. It didn’t matter to her how much something cost, or how flashy it was—all that mattered to her was the heart of the matter.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Then why had he changed so dramatically, seemingly overnight?

“Well, we’ve seen some pictures of the home in Ravenside. It’s just gorgeous. We’ll have to come up and take a look. Maybe for Christmas,” Marion continued.

“Sure, Christmas would be great,” Tommy told them and Penny glanced at him sharply.

Christmas…how different would everything be by then?

“How was the benefit?” Her dad asked.

“Penny did an amazing job.”

“She usually does.” He agreed, continuing the conversation with Tommy. Penny didn’t mind—it was easier, sitting there with a smile on her face, laughing where she knew she was supposed to laugh.

Before she knew it, several hours had passed. “Here, Pen, why don’t you come help me get everything ready?”

“Of course, Mom,” Penny excused herself from the living room.

The tradition came back naturally, Penny working alongside her mom to make the mashed potatoes and vegetables while the older woman took responsibility for the pie. She liked the familiarity of it all, distracting her from the mess her life had fallen into.

There was a time, she remembered, when Tommy had spent Thanksgiving with them and they actually were happy, rather than putting on a show.

She missed those days.

It wasn’t long before Marion called the boys in, the table set and the turkey ready to be carved. “Everything looks great,” Tommy complimented as he took in the table of food before them.

“Well, it tastes even better than it smells.”

“I believe it. You guys usually put on a pretty mind-blowing Thanksgiving dinner, if memory serves.” He looked around. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“You can pour the wine,” Marion told him. “I learned a long time ago—leave nothing but the simplest of tasks for the men.”

“Carving the turkey is a very intricate process—”

“Sure it is, Dad. Sure it is.” Penny smiled, handing him his carving knives before taking a seat at the table. Tommy joined her a moment later, the two of them absorbed in watching the older couple.

Penny wondered if she would ever find that. Her parents had been together for going on forty years, and here she couldn’t even manage ten.

Who was she kidding? She couldn’t even manage a pretend relationship, much less a meaningful one.

Out of the corner of her eye, she risked a glance at her husband. He almost looked at home as he laughed at something her dad was saying, the two of them acting like old friends. She looked down at her empty plate.

Her dad had never had that kind of a relationship with Kevin. He’d never even tried.

“Tommy, why don’t you lead the thanks this year?” Her mom suggested once her father finally sat down, satisfied with his masterpiece. Tommy seemed taken aback for a moment, but recovered quickly.

“Where to begin? It’s been a good year for me.” He sighed, shifting his eyes to the table. “I’d like to give thanks for second chances. For finding love, and for living life as best I could—even if just for a moment.”

Penny felt her eyes fill with tears, unable to bring herself to meet his.

He was only acting, she told herself. Only playing a role.

“And for family,” Elliot added, raising his glass into the air. Penny smiled sadly, unable to look anyone at the table in the eye as she joined in on the toast. “Now, let’s eat!”

The table