Penelope

Halloween was fun to celebrate with Cassian. Despite his calamities, he was encouraging and never stopped smiling at the waves of kids we experienced. It was adorable to watch him play the part of Milo, spewing out random, garbled words to make it seem like he was speaking Atlantean. The kids ate it up, complementing Cassian and I on our costumes. One of the older ones said we looked cute as a couple. The comment bothered Cassian—he stuttered and blushed—but he regained his composure soon enough. After that, we realized we were out of candy. Cassian ran to the grocery store to grab more, and some chips just in case. It was a miracle to find candy on Halloween. The trick or treaters kept on coming until around eleven, and Cassian's smile never faltered. Nor did we run out of candy.

He rocked his costume, too. Although I will never admit it, I chose for Cassian to wear a muscle shirt so I could stare at his arms. His usual workout routines have given him muscles that don't deserve to go unnoticed. That being said, I wouldn't force him to show them unless I knew he was comfortable with it. Which he is. He makes sure I notice his arms whenever we go for a dip in the hot tub. I never fail to.

Now that Halloween is over, we've stepped into the early days of November. It's time to get back to business. As I step out of Cassian's SUV, I smooth the front of my skirt. The tights I'm wearing are thick, creating a barrier between my skin and the chilly breeze. The forecast is calling for snow tonight, which isn't surprising. I've seen snow in the Okanagan before Halloween.

"Are we still setting up the Christmas tree?" Cassian asks, jogging around the front of the SUV.

"Yes," I reply. I'm four days late with setting up my Christmas decorations. I usually do it on November first. It's been a tradition in my family for generations. I helped Mom and Dad set up theirs over the weekend, but Cassian and I didn't have time to set up ours in the rental house. We were unsure of how long we'd be staying in West Kelowna, but also because we don't have a tree yet. Work has been busy, and we haven't found the time to find a tree.

"You know," Cassian chuckles, "I find it crazy you set up your Christmas decorations so early. I'm more of a mid-November person."

I shrug, adjusting the positioning of my binder. Along with my binder, I've also brought my camera. Er... Hanna's old camera. She gave it to me before she left for Toronto after graduation. I thought it was sweet of her to recognize how much I enjoy taking pictures. My skills don't compare to Hanna's, but at least I'm capturing memories. The camera she gave me takes much better pictures than my iPhone. After Cassian and I have completed our daily trip to Utterly Uncorked, I'm going to upload these to my laptop and send them to Jake. He wants to see some before and after footage. Jake was scheduled to come visit, but I convinced him not to. We need someone on Vancouver Island to maintain the coffee shop. He also needs to stay with Gemma. The last thing I want is for them to be separated while she's pregnant.

"It's a family tradition," I reply. "The earlier we set up the Christmas stuff, the longer we get to enjoy it. Plus, it makes the house feel homey. You also don't have the stress of decorating in December on top of preparing the meal, Christmas shopping, and finding space for relatives when they visit. I also love the frosted cranberry candle from Bath & Body Works." I pause, exchanging a glance with Cassian. "Do you want to come pick out a tree tonight?"

"Sure," he replies. "I've never set up a real tree before."

My mouth drops open as I step around a group of young women. They're dressed in formidable clothing; they look businesslike and posh at the same time. Almost each woman has a laptop bag over her shoulder. In my head, I applaud these women. I love seeing women flaunt their power in the business world. It's a difficult job to maintain without letting comments and emotions overwhelm you, as stereotypes are assigned to each decision a woman makes. When we're strict, we're bitches. When we're relaxed or polite, we're too nice. There's never a balance that pleases the male population. And the only way to fix that is to continue to work and carve out spaces for ourselves. It's an unfair job that should've never been assigned to us.

"You've never decorated a real tree? That's unbelievable!"

Cassian wrinkles his nose. "Mom didn't like the needles falling to the floor. She said it was too much of a mess." He pushes the door open and gestures for me to step through. I thank him, welcoming the scent of the candles coming from the boutique. It's a very citrus smell. Before we return to Vancouver Island, I'm going to ask where they order their candles from. Some need to be put on every shelf in my house.

"That's understandable," I admit. "They are a pain to clean up. Besides, fake or real tree, you're still representing the Christmas spirit."

Before Cassian can respond, my Mom rushes over to us, engulfing us both in an awkward hug. "Penelope! Cassian! I'm loving what they have done with the place! You two are quite the designers."

"Thank you, Mrs. Montgomery," Cassian smiles. He hugs my mom back, shooting me a joyous eye roll. He's a sucker for hugs.

Mom steps out of the hug, beaming at us. She takes my arm and pulls me to the constructions site. Technically, Mom isn't allowed in here, so I don't know how she's seen it yet. But when she tells me about the tour Patrick gave her while she was waiting for us, everything makes sense. She also waggles her eyebrows at me, making a comment about Patrick. "Right," I reply, feeling guilty and repulsed. I still haven't told Mom and Dad about Patrick. Or that I'm aware of who my birth parents are.

Why haven't I told her yet?

I decide I need to right now. If she hints at Patrick and I becoming a couple, I might be sick.

"Hey," I say, taking Mom's arm. She pauses, and so does Cassian. "Cassian, do you want to get the rundown from Patrick? I need to talk to my mom."

His brown eyes flick between the two of us. It doesn't take long for the look of understanding to appear. "Sure," he replies. "Take your time."

When Cassian is gone, I pull Mom into a little alcove next to the entryway. There's a small bench, and the window has a stunning view of the vineyard. Well... the view would stun in the summer. Right now, it looks rather dreary.

"Ellie," Mom frowns. "What's going on?"

I set my binder and purse down on the tiled floor and then retrieve my phone from the pocket of my skirt. When Patrick came over with the results to our test, I snapped a photo of them. "Mom," I say. "This is going to be a bit of a shock to you, but please try to keep an open mind, okay? I know I offended you when I said I was looking for my birth parents. I understand why—you want to protect me and make sure I'm happy." I pause as she nods, taking a deep breath. "Well... my biological brother found me. We did a DNA test..."

I trail off and hand Mom my phone.

She exchanges one more glance with me before flicking her gaze down to the bright screen. I draw my bottom lip between my teeth as I watch, wondering how she's going to react. I don't want the news about Patrick to break our relationship. Things have improved between us again.

Her eyes widen and she covers her mouth. "Patrick Collins..." she murmurs. "Christ..." She stares at me again, taking in my features. I feel like I'm being put under the spotlight. But Cassian did the same thing after he found out the truth. It's okay for them to pick out the similarities between Patrick and I. I know it's something I did when Patrick first sprang the news on me.

"Patrick's your biological brother. Your twin." she says.

"Yeah," I reply, twiddling my thumbs. "He told me the night of the barbecue. That's why Cassian and I left. I... wanted to tell you and Dad sooner, but I wanted proof first. I'm sorry, Mom. It was a shock to me, too. I... I needed time to adjust, to get to know Patrick a little more."

Mom ignores my apology. "Does Patrick live with his—your biological parents?"

"Yes," I reply, casting my gaze downward. Every time I'm reminded of me being the one given up for adoption, I feel shame burn in my chest. Why was I given up? Why did my biological parents keep Patrick? It makes little sense to me. "I'm still not sure why, Mom. They're not nice to Patrick. He found out he had a twin sister a while ago, but they're still keeping him in the dark. He's been looking for a long time. And it makes me feel bad. I feel like I should've been looking for him, too. But I—"

"Penelope," Mom says, cutting me off.

I clamp my lips shut.

"Finding your twin brother was never your responsibility. Don't feel bad for not knowing. When we adopted you, we only knew your name and your adorable baby face." She gestures at my phone. "This is news to me, too." A crease forms between her brows. "Who the hell would give up one twin and not the other?"

"Padmé from Star Wars?" That's not how the story went, but my weak, incorrect joke brings a smile to Mom's face.

"She gave up both twins like a normal person would if they were in a dire situation where they couldn't provide for the children. What your biological parents have done... it is infuriating." She pauses. "Are you sure Patrick is with his biological parents? He seems too kind to belong to such horrid people."

I'm surprised by how well Mom is taking this. "So... you're not upset?"

Mom reaches over and cups my face. "Sweetie, why would I be upset? Finding your biological family is your birthright. I was wrong to judge you for wanting to do so. I'm glad you've found a brother out of this. You always wanted a sibling."

I smile to myself. "I did," I admit.

Mom stares at my face a little longer. "You two do look alike," she murmurs. "How did I not notice it?"

"Beats me," I reply. "Everyone I've met had the same reaction."

"Well," Mom smiles, taking my hand. She squeezes it. "Thank you for telling me. I'm glad you took your time. How are you doing with it?"

I think back to the days I spent locked in my room. "I didn't take well to it," I admit. "But once I got past the shock, things got better. Patrick and I have been getting to know each other. He's a good person. Very upfront with his opinions, but respectful of boundaries and other peoples' opinions."

"That's wonderful!" Her smile broadens. "One of my biggest fears was you meeting your biological family and being disappointed. At least one person is good." She gives me a sympathetic smile, pulling me into a hug. "I'm sorry about your parents, Penelope. It must've been heartbreaking to find out they kept Patrick." Mom rubs my back and I rest my cheek on her shoulder. There's nothing I love more than a hug from my mom. "Are you going to meet them?"

"Not sure yet," I reply. "Patrick and I are planning it out. We're not sure how to deal with suppressive parents."

Mom pats me on the shoulder. "Take your time, Penelope."

Although Mom has clarified she's not upset, I still feel the need to speak. "You and Dad will always be my parents. You know that, right?" I ask, my voice shaking. Damn my emotions. "I love both of you so much. You can tell Dad everything I've told you. We can all discuss it over dinner or something sometime this weekend."

She rests her hand against my cheek. "Of course we know that, sweetie. We love you, too. Now, we should join Cassian and Patrick. I want more details about Elemental Coffee's new location! I'm ecstatic to have a shop opening here. Jake and Cassian's coffee is the best."

A smile spreads across my lips as I collect my belongings. I'm glad our conversation went smoothly. I was worried Mom would be offended. She's come a long way since I broke the news about wanting to find my biological parents.

When Mom and I join Cassian and Patrick in the construction zone, I'm impressed by the progress that's been made. All kitchen elements have been installed, the drywall has been sanded and painted a light grey, the accent wall is complete, and the floors are in. It seems like we're close to being complete, but there's a lot of underlying work that needs to be done. We need to decorate, fill the shelves with products, spread word around town, and have a soft opening. People need to be hired, as well. We have Tessa covering the sweets and soups, but we need servers and cashiers. Inspections will also have to take place.

Just as my eyes are passing the faded brick wall, I notice someone else in the room. She's standing with Cassian and Patrick, discussing the progress that's been made. But instead of praising the shop, she's critiquing it. Her words don't register in my mind. I'm too focused on the head of peppery blonde hair and the familiar figure.

"The cash register should've been closer to the window. That way, as soon as people have gotten their drinks, they can leave. A patio should've been installed."

Patrick sighs. "Mom, adding a patio would've cut into the vineyard."

"But it would've made the place look so nice!" she insists. "Don't you think?"

My gaze flicks from Patrick to my biological mom to Cassian. The glowering expression on Cassian's face shocks me. His jaw is set in a firm line and he crosses his broad arms, the sleeves of his suit jacket stretching. He's not happy—and it's not because of the critique. The intense glare in his brown eyes is enough to make a grown man cry.

Over our biological mom's shoulder, Patrick makes eye contact with me. I'm sorry, he mouths. His expression tells me he wasn't expecting our mom to show up. I nod at him. Patrick never would've purposely invited our mother here without my consent. He knows this is difficult for me.

Because Patrick hasn't responded to the question, our mom turns around. Her appearance takes my breath away, despite seeing the picture of her. She looks like an older version of me, with similar cheekbones, lips, and eye shape. My nose differs from hers, as is my hair colour. The remaining blonde in her hair has an ashy tone to it. Mine is more honey-coloured.

Beside me, Mom gasps, giving my forearm a comforting squeeze.

"Oh," the woman says, "I didn't realize we had guests." A furrow forms between her brows. "There was a sign that stated no guests."

"Penelope's my partner," Cassian says, standing beside me. His voice is sharp, making my biological mom flinch. "She works with Jake and I. Pen is not a guest. She's the brilliant mind behind Elemental Coffee partnering with Utterly Uncorked. Without her, Elemental Coffee would be nothing."

I could start crying. God, I love this man. 

"Oh, I'm sorry!" she exclaims. "I wasn't aware—"

"Of course you weren't," Patrick says. "You never think before you speak."

"Patrick!"

My brother rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Just stop jumping into conclusions, okay?"

"Don't tell me you're still sour about our conversation. Patrick, honey, you need to stop dwelling over the past. Can you not appreciate we kept you?"

I flinch against Cassian's body, wanting to shy away from the world. It hurt when Patrick told me the truth, but hearing it from her makes it worse.

Patrick sends me another apologetic look. He's on the verge of losing his cool, which I can understand.

"Patrick," our mom says, "aren't you going to introduce me?"

Patrick sighs, looking like he's ready to jump off a cliff. "Mom, this is Penelope, as Cassian previously stated. The woman standing next to her is her mom. Ladies, this is my mom, Renee Collins."

Renee Collins.

Her name is a punch to the gut. I try to flash her a weak smile, but I can't. How has Renee not said anything? I look exactly like her! Patrick and I share physical features, for God's sake!

"Hello, Renee," Mom says, stepping forward. She thrusts her hand out. Mom's tone of voice concerns me—it's cold and detached. "I'm Cecily Montgomery."

Renee takes Mom's hand, shooting a peculiar look in my direction. I wonder if she recognizes the last name or is finally realizing who I am. My grip around Cassian's arm tightens. I want to leave before things get out of hand. The air is suffocating me. I can't be around the woman who birthed me and decided I was no good to keep.

Cassian slips his arm around my waist. "Come on, Pen," he murmurs. "Let's go for a walk." Before he guides me out into the crisp November air, he turns to my mom and mutters something. Judging by the look on her face, she's not pleased with what's happened. At least she's witnessed, firsthand, what Patrick has had to deal with. Cassian then turns to the group, a big smile on his face. "Pen and I have some business-related topics to discuss. We'll let Patrick take over with the tour, as he has an insider's look at what they have done through renovations."

Patrick presses his lips into a firm line and nods. He's mortified with what's happened, and something tells me he'll be calling later.

Without another glance back at them, Cassian guides me into the hallway. We keep walking until we're outside and settled on a bench in the middle of the vineyard. There's an astounding view of the lake from here, giving me a sense of serenity. Although I'm terrified of the Ogopogo, the sound of water lapping against the shore calms me. The water is rough today, so the sound echoes.

"I'm sorry, Pen," Cassian says, breaking the silence. "Renee caught us off-guard. Patrick said she wasn't supposed to show until after we'd done our rounds."

A small smile finds my lips. I knew Patrick would work around me, just like any older brother would. "It's okay," I say. Although my chest feels heavy with sadness, it's best for me to react now than when Patrick and I decide to talk to our parents. I'll be able to control my emotions better when it happens. "Thanks for getting me out of there."

Cassian bumps his shoulder against mine. "I'd do anything for you, Pen."

His comment warms my heart, and I lean my head against his shoulder. "Do you think it was smart leaving Mom in there with Patrick and Renee?"

"Yes," Cassian laughs. "Renee deserves to face your mom's wrath."

I can't suppress a snort. "I'm more concerned about Patrick. The poor guy."

"He'll be fine," Cassian replies, toeing a dead leaf on the uneven ground. "We should get out of here. I heard there was a place to buy Christmas trees in Kelowna. Want to go?" He pauses, glancing at me. "How are you holding up? You told your Mom about Patrick, right?"

"I'm okay. Things will be better once the shock has worn off. No matter what happens, I always bounce back. I wanted to tell Mom and Dad together, but she kept making comments about dating Patrick. I couldn't handle it anymore."

Cassian wrinkles his nose. "That was a little disturbing."

I appreciate Cassian talking things out with me, but this isn't his problem to deal with. This is a problem Patrick and I need to deal with. Standing up, I grab Cassian's hand and jerk my head to the pathway. It's a dirt pathway scattered with leaves from the vineyard. "Let's go. We'll stop at home before we head into Kelowna. We'll need some warmer clothes. It's supposed to snow tonight."

His brown eyes connect with mine. He looks concerned. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about it more? That was a lot, Pen."

"Yes," I nod. The last thing I want is for Cassian to feel like he's being excluded. Which is why I don't tell him I want to discuss this more with Patrick than with him. Patrick has a better understanding of what's going on. Not that I'm disregarding Cassian's kindness. I appreciate it and can't help but feel thankful for having someone like him in my life. I give his hand another tug, bringing him to his feet. "Let's go."

He exhales deeply. "Okay. Let's go get a Christmas tree."