Free Penny Dreadful by Laurel Snyder Page A

things there might be to do in them. Then she climbed into bed and went to sleep.
    The next morning, after a breakfast of stale wheat crackers and bruised apples washed down with water, Dirk realized they’d completely run out of coffee. This meant that someone would have to venture out. Once Dirk drove off to do just that, the bubble burst. Delia decided that now it was time to “figure things out.”
    “As soon as your father comes back with the van,”she said to Penny, “why don’t we go find those lawyers? I’ll feel better once we have the legal stuff taken care of. It’s unsettling, not really knowing what’s going on. You’ll come with me, won’t you?” Delia asked Penny. “I could use some backup.”
    Although a visit to the law offices of Donsky & Donsky, Esqs., was hardly how Penny had hoped to spend her day, she agreed to go with her mother. It was nice to be asked.
    About an hour later when Dirk got back to the house, his arms full of bags and his conversation full of stories about the old-fashioned grocery store called the Mountains Mercantile, he pronounced it a good idea too.
    “That’s perfect!” he said. “You two go along to town while I get all of this put away and figure out lunch. Look!” He held up a loaf of fresh bread, as proud as if he had baked it himself. “People make
everything
from scratch around here. I got some homemade pickles too!” He held up a clear glass jar with a funny lid. “Makes me think even
I
might be able to bake something.”
    So Delia and Penny left him to his bags and boxes and bottles and cans and jars and plans and dreams. They climbed into Dijon and set off.
    It was easy enough for Delia to find the offices of Donsky & Donsky, Esqs. Not only had Kay the waitress waved them in the right general direction, but the elderlysisters were the only lawyers in Thrush Junction, and their office was in a small blue building with a very large sign that read DONSKY & DONSKY: SISTERS-IN-LAW . It was hard to miss.
    Delia poked her head in the door and called out brightly, “Hello? I’m Delia Grey—um—Dewberry. Delia Dewberry Grey! And this is my daughter … Penny. I’m here to sign some papers!”
    Immediately, she and Penny were beckoned inside by a stern-looking elderly woman in bifocals who introduced herself as Myra Donsky. Myra asked Delia to repeat her name and then handed over a stack of very official-looking papers.
    “Nothing to it,” Myra said. “Congratulations on the new house. Just have a seat and sign here, here, and here.”
    After Delia had quickly glanced over and signed the requisite forms, another old lady—this one with a warm smile and a purple ribbon bouncing on top of her drifts of white hair—entered the room. This lady carried a
second
stack of papers.
    “Hi,” she said in a cheery voice. “I’m Tolly! So nice to have you in town.” She set down the pile of paperwork. “Congrats on the house! Now, here you go, darlin’.”
    Delia looked at the pile blankly. “
More
papers?”
    Penny peered over her mom’s shoulder.
    Myra and Tolly Donsky nodded at her in unison, as though they’d been rehearsing for this moment.
    “Oh,” Delia said, picking up a pen to sign. “I guess these probably have something to do with the tenants? I was going to ask you about them anyway—”
    “No, nothing to do with that,” said Myra sternly. “These regard the loans.”
    “What loans?” asked Delia. She stopped in midscrawl and set down her pen.
    Penny watched her mother closely.
    “You see, dear,” Tolly Donsky said, leaning forward confidentially, “your aunt Betty was an astounding lady, and a generous soul, but she wasn’t exactly good with numbers. She was often forgetful about her taxes, and then, just a few years before she died, she borrowed some money against the house when the llamas all caught foot-and-mouth disease and needed special care.”
    “Special care?” asked Delia in a wobbly voice.
    “Yes indeed.” Tolly