Chapter 339

“Darling,” she said into the phone, “I need to borrow you for a minute.”
With that, she walked toward the center table, phone in hand. As she approached, the expressions of those at the table shifted—some looked on with amusement, some with disdain, and some with pure triumph. The triumphant ones were, of course, Yvonne and her mother. Their glee faded, however, when they saw she was no longer wearing the black dress.
It was Mrs. Sullivan who spoke first. “Penelope, where have you been? I was just looking for you. Come, sit with me.”
Sitting with her would be an admission that everything she’d just said was true.
Penelope ignored her and walked directly to Mrs. Stapleton, whose brow furrowed in annoyance. “Go sit somewhere Tʜe source of this ᴄontent ɪs.net
“Mother,” Penelope interrupted smoothly, “Theodore is on the phone. He wants to know if you’ve taken your medication.”
She held out the phone, pretending she couldn’t quite reach past the others at the table. After a few failed attempts, she turned to Yvonne with an overly polite smile. “Ms. Bishop, would you mind letting me through?”
Yvonne, having claimed the seat of honor, had no intention of moving. “I can take it for her,” she offered, reaching for the phone.
Penelope let out a soft laugh. “You want to take a call from my husband?”
Yvonne’s smile froze. “I was just trying to help.”
“Well, let me ask my husband if he wants your help.” Penelope put the phone to her ear and said loudly, “Darling, Ms. Bishop is offering to take the call for you. Is there anything you’d like to say to her?”
A cold chuckle came through the receiver. “What could I possibly have to say to her?”
Penelope relayed the message with relish. “My husband says he has nothing to say to you, Ms. Bishop.”
The words landed like a physical blow. The entire table winced in secondhand embarrassment. Yvonne’s face burned with humiliation. “Penelope, who do you think you are?”
“Yvonne!” Mrs. Bishop snapped, cutting her off before she could completely lose her composure.
“Ms. Laurier clearly wants your seat. Just give it to her. It’s only a chair,” Mrs. Bishop said, her voice laced with meaning.
Penelope feigned confusion. “Oh? I thought this seat was for Mrs. Stapleton. When did it become Ms. Bishop’s? Is she Mrs. Stapleton?”
The jab was so venomous that Yvonne could only grit her teeth in silence while Mrs. Bishop’s lips trembled, unable to form a response.
“Yvonne, come sit by me,” Mrs.
Bishop said finally, her voice tight “Mrs.
Sr. may be fond of
Sr.
you but it’s clear. Mrs. Stapleton
But
is not. Don’t overstay your
welcome.”

Jr.
Penelope didn’t bother to deny it. Her feelings about Yvonne were crystal clear.
Yvonne reluctantly gave up the seat, and Penelope slid in next to her mother-in-law. Ignoring Mrs.
Stapleton’s dark expression, shonet
handed her the phone it was her husband’s responsibility to manage his mother, and she had no intention of letting him shirk it.
Whatever Theodore said, Mrs. Stapleton’s face went from thunderous to placid, and
by the end of the call, she was even managing a smile.
She handed the phone back to Penelope. “I told you to come early, but you decided to hide instead. I’ve been looking all over for you!”
It was a public show of support, and Penelope played along. “You weren’t here yet, Mother, and I don’t know any of these ladies well enough to intrude.”
“I’ll introduce you to everyone later.”
“Thank you.”
Now firmly ensconced by Mrs. Stapleton’s side, Penelope launched her counterattack she turned, as just noticing her. “Mrs. Sullivan,
you’re here as well.”
fo
Mrs. Sullivan sniffed. “I suppose your standards are too high to notice someone like me anymore.”
“Oh, I noticed you. You were telling such an amusing story, you had everyone captivated.”
…