Author’s Note
Pepper’s Penance is a slow burning romance that unfolds over the course of twenty-three chapters. This is not a wham-bam story. But, if you’re into that sort of thing, I think you’ll like this one.
*
Chapter 8: Tuesdays Are Always Slow
I thought about that kiss for three days. The kiss that Pepper so casually laid on my cheek as Trixie was dragging her away from my front door. I’d never really had any friends who I would consider the kissy-kissy type—the kind who would grip you by the shoulders and say something like, “dah-ling, it seems like forever,” before swooping in to brush each cheek with their lips. As far as I knew that kind of thing only happened in old movies. And yet, here was Pepper, not gripping me by the shoulders, but swooping in just the same.
I thought about the hand holding too. That was easier for me to justify. Pepper and I were just a couple of friends out on a chilly night, it had been raining and we shared an umbrella, so of course we would be pressed up next to each other. Hand holding wasn’t that big of a deal. Except, I missed it.
I enjoyed the way Pepper took my hand her hers to trace out my henna with her finger—probably too much. I let out a sigh with just the memory of it. It had been so comforting, so relaxing, like a mother’s touch. But the feeling of her hands hovering over mine at the piano, that was more. There was more than just “here’s where middle C is” in her touch. Or maybe it was just me wishing it so.
I took a deep breath and let it out in a long slow sigh. Thankfully, there was no one in the store to hear me. Tuesday mornings are notoriously slow. I had already sorted my bills—even paid a few now that things were looking up. I looked at the fading brown on my hand and decided to pull out my old repurposed glue bottle and lay down a new design.
I frowned. My paisleys were coming out as something more akin to an anemic tadpole, than the classic Persian design I was hoping for. I put some dots around the outside of them anyway and held my hand up to see just how bad it was. That’s when I heard the door chime.
I looked up and there was Trixie, shaking and shimmying, sending water all over my store. She was followed closely by Pepper, peeling off her rain jacket to reveal a maroon hoodie with “Han shot first” silk screened over the front. Pepper held up her hand in a classic Mister Spock Vulcan greeting. beylikdüzü escort “Namaste,” she said.
“You’re so random,” I said. “And before you think of sitting down, go to the back, get a towel, and clean up after your damn dog.”
“And here I thought you two were getting along so well.” Pepper wandered off to the stockroom while Trixie stepped up to nudge my hand with her nose.
“I’m not petting you. You made a mess of my store.”
Trixie nudged me again.
“Fine,” I huffed, and rubbed her behind the ear.
Pepper appeared with a towel in one hand and a Diet Coke in the other. “Whatcha been doin’, Ash?”
“I should ask you the same question. I see you found my secret drink stash.”
“Trixie and I were just in the neighborhood.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I ran out of dog treats. Trixie’s been such a good girl. And… well, you still have some don’t you?”
I reached under the counter and pulled out the bag. Trixie’s tail went into overdrive.
“Here you go girl.” I shook a few out and turned my gaze to Pepper. “And you ran out of Diet Coke, I suppose.”
“Nah, but I saw it and figured why not?” Pepper was busy wiping down the droplets that had been flung from Trixie’s back to my front counter. “Be better if it was cold, though.”
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. So what brings you ’round on a Tuesday.”
“I told you, we were just in the neighborhood and—”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I need my tiramisu, Ash. Okay? Is that so wrong? You do still have it don’t you?”
I grinned. “Eleven o’clock? A little early for dessert.”
“What are you, my mom?” Pepper frowned. “Don’t answer that.”
“Lunch first.”
“You buying? Because this isn’t the magic hoodie with the endless wad of cash. That one’s at home. I wasn’t expecting… Trixie and I were just in the neighborhood, you know?”
“Mm-hmm. I still have the dinner leftovers in the fridge. Watch the store, I’ll heat them up and bring them down.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Pepper shot me a salute.
I turned and marched through the stockroom to the back stairwell. “There’s dog water on the door, too,” I hollered. “Make sure you mop that up.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I grinned.
* * *
When I got back down with two steaming plates of pasta leftovers balanced in my hands, I saw Pepper with a pile of change on the counter in front of her, looking sideways at the cash register, touching avcılar escort it here and there.
I set the plates on the counter. “What happened?”
“I made a sale.” Pepper punched a few buttons. “But your register hates me.”
I reached over to clear the random numbers she had punched in. “How much?”
“Music book. Sixteen ninety-five. The customer was nice enough to pay cash and cough up exact change.”
“Sales tax?”
“Duh. It’s five fu—” Pepper sighed. “Yes, Ash. It’s five cents on the dollar. Easy to do in my head. The customer had exact change. I just can’t figure out how to convince your register—”
I reached over her again and entered the sale. When I hit the cash button, the drawer sprang open, causing Pepper to jump back.
I scraped the bills and change off the counter and put them in.
“You burn your hand again, Ash?”
“Henna art, Pepper. Henna art.”
“Looks like dancing tadpoles,” she said, picking up my hand and turning it around to examine all sides. “Except they’re sick or something. What’s wrong with them? Somebody spike their punch? Or is it supposed to—”
I yanked my hand back. “Pepper, eat your lunch.”
She grinned and picked up a fork.
“Thanks,” I said, after digging in for a few bites of my own.
“For what?”
“For ringing up the sale while I was gone.”
Pepper eyed my plate. “Let me try a bite of yours and we’ll call it even.”
“Sure” I said, watching her stab a bit of penne. “I’m serious though. My accounting ledger is much healthier these days. Your playing is a good draw.”
“I suppose I owe you since I’m here.” Pepper made a show of peering into the corners of my empty store. “Looks like you could use a little help.”
I put my fork down and laid my hand on her forearm. “It’s fine. Tuesdays are always slow. It’s nice to have you here. You, know, um, for somebody to talk to.”
“You know I’m just here for the tiramisu, right?” Pepper smirked and picked up my hand again. “But, if you’ve got the time, maybe you could show me how to do the henna thing. No tadpoles though. How about a flower, like you had before? But only if you have the time.”
“You’re in luck. Tuesdays are always slow.”
“You mentioned that.”
I cleared up our finished leftover containers and pulled out the glue bottle full of henna paste. Pepper held up her hand and grinned. Trixie curled up for a nap.
I took esenyurt escort Pepper’s hand and laid it on the counter. “Spread your thumb.”
“Like this?”
“Mm-hmm. Now try to be still.”
“Ash, really? Sometimes you treat me like a kid.”
I laid my left hand over her fingers while I tilted the bottle in my right. “Hold still.”
She did. So did I.
“Ash?” She tilted her head and peered up at me. “You gonna paint me up?”
“Hmm? Yeah, sorry,” I said. “Sometimes it takes a while to get the paste flowing.”
Pepper grinned. “Mm-hmm.”
“Keep your hand straight. I’m going to start the stem.”
Pepper shuddered. “Tickles,” she said.
“Try to control yourself.” I squeezed out a line over her wrist. When I was done, I absentmindedly brushed my thumb over her knuckles. I did it twice before my conscious brain kicked in and told me to stop.
Pepper said nothing, so I took a deep breath and kept drawing.
I laid out a couple leaves on either side of the flower stem. When I was done, I brushed my thumb over the back of her hand again. I held my breath as I did it, but still no reaction from Pepper. If anything, she seemed more relaxed than usual, so I kept drawing, telling myself that the occasional forays of my thumb were to keep Pepper calm so I could paint her skin more easily.
I had finished up the flower petals, leaving a smaller space for me to brush my thumb against, but it didn’t stop me. I was finishing up with some decorative dots.
“You’ll want to let this set as long as possible, so don’t peel it off until bedtime. If it flakes off on its own, that’s alright.”
“Does it bother you when I talk about Natalie?”
I stopped drawing dots and tipped the glue bottle back upright. “Why would it bother me?”
“Because, I think you like me, Ash. You put up with me, anyway.”
I said nothing.
“I don’t have many friends.” Pepper stopped looking me in the eye, choosing to speak to the counter top instead. “Well, any, really. Except for Trixie.”
“Trixie’s got a big heart.”
“So do you, Ash.” Pepper leaned in and kissed me on the cheek.
I still hadn’t figured out the kiss from three days ago, and now here was another one. Same idea, different cheek. I probably chose the worst possible reaction—I froze.
Pepper laid her head on my shoulder for a moment, but I was still stiff as a board, and she straightened up again soon after.
“Pepper, I—”
“It’s okay, Ash. Trixie and I should probably be heading home.”
I looked at her, my brow furrowed. “Your tiramisu.”
“It’s alright. I’ve had enough for today.”