Chapter 183
Penelope spent the morning at the office, had lunch with Mr. Johnson, and then checked on the wedding venue in the afternoon. By the time she got home, the sun was already setting.
As she approached her front door, the Sullivans’ door across the street creaked open, and Luna, the maid, called out to her.
“You have a visitor.”
Penelope froze for a second before realizing who it must be. She hurried across the street.
Just inside the Sullivans’ entryway were several large cloth sacks. She immediately recognized the contents: smoked chicken and duck, dried hawthorn, and preserved peaches-all her childhood favorites. But they were piled by the door like garbage, and some of the dried fruit had spilled onto the floor.
Her brow furrowed as she pushed the door open.
Just as she suspected, her adoptive father was there. He was wearing simple but clean clothes, his body thin and his hair streaked with gray. He sat stiffly on a small stool.
A stool.
Meanwhile, Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan were lounging on the sofa, one sipping tea and the other eating fruit, completely ignoring Mr. David Anderson.
“The kids have been together for years now,” Mrs. Sullivan was saying with a look of distaste. “Penelope has her flaws, and she often infuriates us, but if Zebulon didn’t marry her, who else would have her?”
“Penelope has always been a sensible girl,” Mr. Anderson said quietly after a long pause.
“She slapped me just yesterday. Real sensible, isn’t she?”
He fell silent.
“Fine, we’re the elders, we won’t stoop to her level. But you need to talk to her. A daughter-in-law is supposed to respect her in-laws and support her husband. Isn’t that how it should be? But look at her, strutting around all day as if she wants to crush us all under her heel.”
“Our Penelope is a reasonable child.”
“Oh, so now you’re getting defensive?”
“No, no, not at all!”
“I always said she lacked proper upbringing. Now I see it’s because she has a clueless father like you.”
“Who are you calling clueless?” Penelope’s voice was ice as she walked into the
room.
Mrs. Sullivan flinched when she saw her. “Penelope, you’re finally back! I invited your father to Orenth for the wedding. I
“Who gave you permission to invite my father?”
“It’s your wedding. Shouldn’t your father be here?”
“I’ll contact him myself. It’s not your place.”
“See? Look at that temper!” Mrs. Sullivan whined to Mr. Anderson, pointing a finger at Penelope. “No one in this family dares to cross her!”
Penelope shot Mrs. Sullivan a death glare before turning to help her father up. “Let’s get you on the sofa.”
“No, I’m fine here.”
“I told him to sit on the sofa,” Mrs. Sullivan added with a smirk, “but he was afraid he’d get it dirty, so he found that stool himself.”
“If you don’t want to sit, we can go home,” Penelope said, ignoring Mrs. Sullivan and insisting on helping her father to his feet.
“I already agreed to have dinner with your in-laws. Oh, and I brought you some chicken and duck
“In the future, please don’t bring
things lik
that,” Mrs. Sullivan cut in,
her face twisted in disgust. “They TÊœe sourcá´‡ of thɪs content ɪs ~net
reek The maid thought you’d picked a dumpster
them out of a clumpster
“Smoked chicken and duck don’t smell bad
“You’re used to the smell of garbage from your scavenging. Of course you wouldn’t notice.”
Penelope whipped her head around and stared daggers at Mrs. Sullivan. If her father hadn’t been there, she would have slapped her across the face.
Mrs. Sullivan sniffed dismissively. “Well, Mr. Anderson, you’ll stay for dinner tonight, won’t you?”
Mr. Anderson was already deeply uncomfortable. “Yes, of course.”
But as soon as he agreed, Mr. Sullivan stood up. “I have a business dinner tonight, so I won’t be able to join you. Please forgive my absence.”
“Oh, you, you go on.”
“I have to go with him, and Zebulon will probably be there too. Penelope, you can just have a meal with your father,” Mrs. Sullivan said, then. shouted to the maid, “Luna, go to the market and get a couple of pounds of lobster. Let Mr. Anderson try some. He’s probably never had it before.”
…