Page 82 of While the Sun Shines

Quickly, he grabs his clothes off the floor and tosses them into his hamper. Towel, hung up. Floor, swept. Sink, wiped clean. Laundry, folded and put away. He’s going to at least keep his hair the same, if his entire room looks unfamiliar this neat and tidy. And if he’s upending his entire life too, throwing everything into a blender and hoping the farm, his career, Penny, all of it works out. He needs some stability, at least.

Drew pulls on a clean pair of jeans and fishes through his closet for a button-down shirt, passing by his T-shirts and sweatshirts, stained with engine grease and faded from hours of working in the sun. Then, he checks himself in the mirror again, straightening his collar. He puffs up his cheeks and blows out a breath.

He can do this—whatever “this” is: have fun with Penny tonight, show up for her for once…and maybe…maybe try to talk to her again.

Bring her back here, he thinks, turning to stare at his bed, freshly made with clean sheets. God, he shouldn’t even get his hopes up.

Or no. Maybe he should. Maybe that’s what he’s been doing wrong all this time, reaching for a level of perfection with the farm that he should’ve long ago focused on Penny.

And if they don’t end up here in his room tonight, maybe they will some other evening. He could take her out to dinner, on a proper date. Cook for her. Ask Whit and Cooper to scram for a couple hours.

And if not…Drew jerks his shirt straighter. If she doesn’t want any of those evenings with him, that’s okay. He touches his stomach, where an anxious knot jumps. It’ll be hard and awful and sad in a way he’s not entirely sure he’s ready to face, but they’ll stay friends. She’ll be in his life, and fuck it, that’s what matters most.

Drew grabs the book on his bedside table to set it neatly in the shelf and then pauses at the sight of the framed photo of him and Penny. They were so damn young in it. And so happy, shoulder to shoulder, grinning like they are. He smiles back and picks up the frame. Yeah, if she doesn’t want to date, doesn’t want a relationship with him, they’ll be the friends they’ve always been. It’ll be awkward for a bit, and horrible when she someday meets someone. But okay.

He starts to set the frame back down and freezes. The shear bolts. Sitting right there in their small Ziplock bag.

He tips his head back and laughs.

“Fucking shit,” he says when he jogs downstairs. “Guess what I found?”

“Why do you look like that? Why are you dressed up?” Penny asks. “What the hell’s going on?”

“I have strict instructions to not say anything,” Whit says.

“I’m trying to cook myself some damn dinner and Whit’s telling me to get in the car.” Penny crosses her arms. “Will someone tell me what’s happening?”

“Yeah, get in the Jeep. We gotta go,” Drew says. He tosses the bolts to Whit. “I never want to see those again in my life.”

“Why did Cooper rush out of here and take Abelardo with him and why did Whit tell me to put on my bartending shoes?”

“Oh, good call.” Drew opens the kitchen door. “C’mon, Pen.”

Whit pushes her forward when she frowns at them both. Drew pops open the Jeep’s passenger door, sweeping his hand in a grand wave. When she finally climbs in, Drew closes it.

Penny rolls down the window. “Whit, your legs are longer. Don’t you want to ride in front?”

“Nope, it’s yours tonight,” Whit says, opening the back door. Then he stops, his phone in his hand. “Wait, wait. We need dry-erase markers.”

“There’s some in the cheese room,” Drew says. “Does Coop need anything else?”

Penny leans out of the window and grabs Whit’s arm. “What the hell is happening?”

But Whit just pulls away and jogs toward the barn.

“Drew,” she says as he climbs into the driver’s seat.

“It’s going to be fun. I promise.” He straps his seatbelt on. “Well, it’s supposed to be fun. It’s either going to be fun or it’s going to be a disaster.”

“Wow,” she says dryly. “I’ve never been quite so excited.”

Whit reappears with the markers and a bag full of cheese—blocks that are damaged or getting old, which Drew keeps to snack on rather than sell.

“I don’t know,” Whit says, holding the bag up. “Cooper just asked for them.”

Penny slowly buckles her seatbelt. “Maybe I don’t want to know.”

Though when they pull into the parking lot of Murry’s, she turns to Drew. “What?” she asks in a flat voice.