We never heard from Sam again. Naturally, Jodi was frantic, but she had another child to raise, and after a few days of searching the valley, most of the villagers were convinced he had skipped town. There was no trace of him anywhere. With some dark marks on his conscience, Sebastian searched the city for several weeks, but still no sign of Sam. To this day, I don't know what happened to him, if he lived or died.

Honest woman that she was, Penny told the Freemans about the Sam incident, even after the doorman had promised to leave it in the past. They appreciated her honesty, but they had to let her go. My Penny had never been asked to leave a job before. She had a phenomenal track record wherever she went, and the Freemans went so far as to offer her a lovely recommendation to her next job, and to allow her to stay in contact with the girls on a professional level if she liked.

She didn't tell me any of this for several months to come. At the time, all I knew was that my girlfriend appeared on my doorstep in the pouring rain on a frigid November evening. She looked utterly defeated. Her normally perfect posture slouched, and her hair was slowly but surely falling out of her typically immaculate bun. Her body language gave no indication that she was cold even when her lips were blue. "Penny," I called her softly. "Come here, baby."

She fell into my arms with all her problems strapped to her back. Now they were my problems, too, I thought to myself, as I held her tight. "I feel like such a failure," she whispered.

"You are not a failure, and this is not your fault."

She looked up at me with deadened eyes. "I was going to help my mom."

"We can still help your mom," I assured her. "Please come in. You're positively frozen."

I herded her inside. She was too upset to do a lot of thinking. Once I had the door closed behind us, I steered her by the shoulders onto the couch, where I swaddled her in a blanket and started some tea.

"It's not fair," I told her as I put the kettle on the range. The burner hesitated to start with a click-click-click. I inhaled sharply: the propane was flowing. Something was definitely wrong with the pilot light. I had to help it along with a match. "Sam harrasses you all this time and then costs you your job. It doesn't seem right at all."

"Oh right– Sam. Is he…?"

"Nobody knows where he is, Penny. He never went home. They're still searching for him. But he appears to have left the Valley."

"And you didn't hurt him?"

"No." I took a seat beside her. The cushions were pressed flat under my weight, but stayed aloft for Penny. "Can I get you a towel for your hair? Or maybe we can make you a nice hot bath?"

She smiled at me, looking tired beyond her years. "You're cute when you fuss over me."

"I missed you," I told her, pressing my nose to hers.

"I missed you, too. But in all seriousness, I need to figure out my next move. I was paying my mom's bills."

"Don't think twice about it. I'll cover it until we find you another job."

She looked at me in disbelief.

"I don't mean to overstep my reach, of course."

"Clark, I– I can't pay you back for this," she told me, sounding flustered.

"I don't expect you to. It's just the help I can offer."

She exhaled. "I'm sorry, but I can't accept it. If you give us money, I worry that you'll want something in return, or hold it over my head, and I'm still not ready to make anything more of us."

It hurt a little, and I think it showed when I played with my hands. Fortunately, the kettle whistled. As I got up to retrieve it, I said, "Well, you're always welcome to stay here as you please."

I poured the steaming water into two tall, thick mugs, some of my personal favorites. Leah had made them for me from clay she had gathered from the riverbank. She had formed them, fired them, and glazed them herself. They were uncolored except for the redness of the earth. They were thick and rustic in look and touch. I plunked a teabag into each and resumed my seat. Penny looked to me as if she'd just gotten an idea. "I just thought of something, perhaps a bargain you'd like to strike."

"Honey, you don't have to bargain with me."

"I'd like to. I won't accept charity," she insisted. She gripped my knee and looked me right in the eye. "Listen. The last time I was staying here, we were both very comfortable, right?"

"Yeah, it was great. It felt like a real home while you were keeping house."

"Would you count keeping house as work?"

"Of course. Don't people pay their maids and cooks and nannies?"

Penny nodded. "Would you accept keeping your house as a kind of trade for letting me stay here?"

"No," I said, but was quick to add, as I saw her face fall. "You'd stay here for free, because what's mine is yours. But if you're keeping up this home, I'd accept that as a fair trade for paying your mom's bills."

Penny smiled at me as if she didn't want to smile, as if she wanted to be very cross with me but simply couldn't bring herself to do it. I pulled her in for a hug. She still had that warm milk and honey smell. Her lips grazed mine, and she told me, "Let's agree now on what I'll do and what fair pay is, along with how long I'll stay."

"Ok," I agreed. We drew up a very informal contract between us, just a simple two-column table labeled with our names. Penny offered to clean, to cook, to care for Duke as a pet, to do dishes and laundry, and in return, I agreed to pay her mom's bills plus an extra twenty percent to put away for a rainy day. If that sounded generous, it wasn't; Pam lived on a very small budget outside of the saloon, and I would have been content to give her twice as much. Penny was the only person I'd ever known to negotiate her pay down. She was afraid of accepting to much and becoming indebted to anyone, even me. What's more, she didn't intend to stay long, and hoped to be back out there, teaching and nannying, within the month.

But it was good to have Penny back in my everyday life again. So good in fact, that Penny's month at the farmhouse came and went without our noticing. Penny asked me halfway through December if she could stay a month longer. Then January came, and February, and March, and we were both still happier with Penny in my house than without. Come April, I took a fool's chance on the first of the month to buy a Mermaid's pendant by the sea. I ran straight home and asked her to marry me right on the front porch, sopping wet from the spring downpour. She accepted my proposal many times, crying happy tears and dancing with Duke.

We were married on April 4th, almost exactly a year after I'd arrived in town. We had the simplest of ceremonies, just a town-wide gathering in the square, presided over by Mayor Lewis under a grape arbor that had been painted white to serve as a wedding arch. Marnie, who arrived drunk on port, sobbed ecstatically through the majority of our vows. I knew I'd never forget Penny's face the moment I lifted her veil. It was the first time I had ever seen her hair down in public, ringlets framing her rosy face and shining eyes.

Afterwards, Penny officially moved into the farmhouse with me, and I resolved to make it the home she had always deserved. She often worried about her mom, especially that Pam would be lonely, or become resentful of her for leaving, and felt guilty about her mom's living situation. So we visited Pam for dinner at least a couple times a week, eventually talking her into a quick remodeling of her trailer while she stayed with us; we had to tell her a white lie to get the construction started. It wasn't until Robin finished her new cottage that Pam walked farther from the farm than the bus station, and by then, it was too late. I had to hide from my mother-in-law for a few days, but many years later, she would admit to being very grateful for the house.

Sebastian and Abigail would later leave the valley for a small apartment in Zuzu City. They lived there for several years, taking in all the concerts, bars, and parties they had felt left out of as teens, but when they decided that it was time for them to start a family, they came back, fixing up the abandoned old house on the southern coast of Cindersap Forest. A few other couples married during that time, including Alex and Haley, Maru and Harvey, and my favorite by far, Lewis and Marnie. Leah and Elliott would probably never marry, they both said independently, although I wouldn't be surprised if they also exchanged rings in late middle age.

Shortly after they made their home, Abby gave birth to twin boys, Skylar and Xander, followed months later by our oldest daughter, Hope. After two years, Penny gave her a sister, Chelsea, and two years after that, she gave me my baby girl, Lizzy, better known as Poppy. I guess it was my lot in life to be surrounded by women. I couldn't be happier.

Thank you for following my story through 'till the end! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.