She’d stayed away from home . . . spent her time at Miss Gina’s . . . Luke’s house . . . even Jo’s when her dad was working. There was the occasional sleepover at Mel’s, but as much as her BFF lived with the appearance of money, the place wasn’t inviting in the least. Seemed the only one surprised by the Bartlett divorce was the lone daughter.
Zoe couldn’t wait to see Mel.
She knew from the few e-mails and even fewer phone calls that Mel was struggling.
In ten years Zoe saw Mel only once, shortly after Hope was born. One look at that arrangement and Zoe knew the relationship between her and Baby Daddy wouldn’t last. As much as Zoe wanted to perform a solo intervention, Mel wasn’t going to listen. And how could she? She was a new mom . . . jobless . . . listening to a jerk. The news of her divorce made Zoe happy, even if it was completely non–politically correct to feel so.
Somewhere over Colorado, her seatmate gave up on small talk, ate the first-class lunch, and plugged into the online movie selections.
Zoe watched the Rockies from twenty-five thousand feet and found her smile.
The most likely to never leave River Bend was returning home for her ten-year class reunion in a first-class seat from a city much bigger, a place more full of opportunity than the town she’d left. Much as she hated herself for it, she looked forward to rubbing a few noses in her success.
Those she cared about, the ones who actually kept her away . . . she didn’t want to rub in anything.
Some people she would like to avoid.
Avoid the pain of seeing them . . . seeing his eyes . . . feeling the disappointment all over again.
CHAPTER FIVE
The noise in R&B’s was greater than most nights. The influx of graduates from ten years past filled all the stools at the bar . . . making Josie run like a wild woman with trays of drinks without a passing smile to the regulars.
Not that it mattered, Wyatt and Luke sat at one of the high-top tables in the thick of the crowd. Josie kept the longneck beers coming, didn’t even ask if they needed another round as she handed them off while she passed by.
“This is crazy.” Wyatt looked around the standing room only space.
“Happens every year.” Luke tipped his bottle back and kept glancing at the door.
“You recognize most of these people?” Wyatt asked.
“Some.”
“Friends . . . enemies?”
“Not a lot of enemies. Can’t say they were all friends.” Luke focused his attention back on Wyatt. “The problem and curse of a small town is everyone knows everyone. There isn’t one secret that everyone doesn’t know, and they never let them die. Especially ten years later.”
“Doesn’t seem like anything dies in this town.”
Luke shrugged. “The good stuff doesn’t. What else would the bridge club at Miss Gina’s gossip about if it did?”
“Miss Gina doesn’t play bridge.”
Luke laughed. “That’s what she calls it.”
“Drunk night where most of her club uses her rooms to sleep off her special lemonade.”
“Love her lemonade. Sucker punched me a few times when I was a kid. The only one who seemed immune to it was—”
“Me!”
Wyatt glanced up and noticed the town sheriff nudging Luke’s hand away from his beer before she took a swig.
“Hey!” Luke swiped the beer back with a wink.
It wasn’t often that Wyatt saw the sheriff at R&B’s. Unless it was in uniform breaking up a fight or helping Josie and her staff encourage a patron to take an offered ride home.
Tonight JoAnne Ward wore tight blue jeans, a cotton shirt that sat snug enough that the world knew she was a woman but wasn’t advertising it. Her hair was down, but most importantly, uncovered by that hat she always wore while on duty.
“Hi, Wyatt,” she said with a smile.
“Sheriff.”
“It’s Jo tonight.”
She leaned in and said something in Luke’s ear before Luke’s eyes traveled toward the door and the expression on his face froze.
Wyatt followed his gaze to find Melanie at the end of it. Her honey blonde hair was down in a clean sheet to her shoulders. At her side was an opposite bookend. Tall, sleek with dark hair and an air of confidence in the way she held her shoulders back. “Who’s that?” he found himself asking.
“Zoe.” The soft answer was hard to hear coming from Luke.
Melanie and Zoe stopped by a group closer to the door.
From across the room Melanie attempted to look above the heads while nodding to whatever the group surrounding her was talking about. Her gaze found his and she tilted her head.
Jo signaled the women over.
“You gonna be okay?” she asked Luke.
Wyatt returned his attention to Jo and found Luke studying his beer. “Long time ago, Jo. Old news.”
Before Wyatt could question what the two of them were talking about, Melanie and Zoe stepped up to their table.
Both Luke and Wyatt slipped out of their bar stools.
“I can’t believe Jeff lost his hair already. He’s only twenty-eight.”
“It was gone at twenty-four,” Luke told Melanie.
“Bad genes,” Jo said.
Wyatt returned Melanie’s smile. “I didn’t know you were going to be here,” she said.
“It’s this or senior bingo night.”
There was a moment of pause before Wyatt noticed the locked expressions on Luke and Zoe’s faces. Hard, controlled, and full of emotion all at the same time.
“Hi, Luke.” Zoe had a smooth texture in her voice that softened the hard line of Luke’s jaw.
“You, ah . . . you look amazing.”
“And you still have your hair.”
Luke laughed. “Good genes.”
Zoe opened her hands and Luke engulfed her in a hug. Even from the side, it looked like neither of them knew how to act.
Luke offered her his chair while Wyatt pushed his toward Jo and Melanie. “I’ll see if I can find another one.”
Wyatt turned over a stool for Jo and joined the conversation.
“We haven’t met.” Zoe reached across the table. “I’m Zoe.”
“Sorry.” Jo took over. “Zoe Brown, Wyatt Gibson. Wyatt moved here about what . . . six years ago?”
“Five.”
Josie stopped at their table, swept an empty bottle away. “What can I get . . .” Josie stopped talking and squealed. “Mel? Zoe?”
The high-pitched girl noises had Wyatt and Luke pulling back. “Women!” Luke said.
Even Jo rolled her eyes.
“Good God, Zoe? I hardly recognized you. Hollywood must be agreeing with you.”
“Dallas, actually.”
Wyatt leaned over to Luke. “Hollywood?”
“She was on one of those chef reality shows years ago,” Luke whispered.
“Oh.”
Josie turned her attention to Melanie. “You haven’t changed one bit. What are you doing these days?”
Melanie blinked a few times. “Been busy.”
“I heard you were married to some lawyer or something.”
“Uhm . . .”
Jo wiggled into the conversation. “Mel has an adorable little girl. Looks just like her.”
Josie kept smiling. “Did your husband come with you?”
Zoe crowded in front of Melanie. “She dumped him years ago.”
Josie seemed lost. “I guess that’s a good thing then.”
“How about some drinks?” Wyatt asked when silence filled the table.
“I’ll have another one of these,” Luke said, waving his beer in the air. “Zoe? Rum and Coke?”
“Perfect,” Zoe said.
“What about you, Mel?”
“I’m drivin
g everyone home. I’ll have a Sprite.”
Jo and Wyatt ordered two more longnecks before Josie sauntered off.
Melanie held her head in both hands. “That’s going to get old fast.”
“Let it roll, Mel.”
Melanie shook her head, Zoe patted her on the back, and Jo kept talking. “None of these people have lived the perfect life.”
Wyatt felt like a third wheel. “What needs to roll?”
Luke opened his mouth to talk, and Melanie cut him off. “I was supposed to be the one who left here and came back rich and powerful.”
Wyatt met Melanie’s eyes and saw the raw disappointment in them. This meant something to her . . . this censure from her peers of the past.
“The problem with class reunions is everyone judges the others on wealth and the size of their waists. Personal happiness and health never seem to be a part of the measurement. Are you happy, Melanie?” Jo asked.
Melanie glanced at Wyatt, the smile on her lips finally met her eyes, and his stomach twisted. “I’m working on it.”
Wyatt saluted her with his beer before taking a swig.
Bed-and-breakfasts didn’t often have a rush . . . but Miss Gina’s was the exception on the Wednesday before the high school reunion. It helped that the closest motel was a good ten miles outside of town, and a handful of RV parks rounded out the accommodations for visitors.
Melanie forced herself to smile in the face of her high school nemesis. “Hello, Margie.”
“My goodness, just look at you.” Margie Taylor stood beside her fiancé, her arm looped through his as if she were the prize. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
Melanie found her eyes traveling to Margie’s excessive cleavage. Cleavage that certainly hadn’t been there in high school. Cleavage Mel was used to seeing in the big cities of Southern California, but saline cleavage that didn’t exist in River Bend.
“We’ve all changed.” Melanie attempted to smile and look beyond the boobs. She suddenly felt like a member of the opposite sex. Who knew boobs had such radar.
“Jonathan, Melanie and I were on the cheer squad together.” Margie draped an arm over her fiancé’s shoulder, pressing her massive rack into his arm.
Jonathan had to be a good ten years older than Margie, the suit he wore wasn’t terribly expensive from what Mel could tell, but it wasn’t ill-fitting either. He was reasonably attractive with a strong jaw and completely disinterested eyes.
“I quit cheer my sophomore year,” Melanie reminded her.
Margie waved her hand in the air. “Splitting hairs, Melanie. Once on the squad, forever on the squad.”
That wasn’t how she remembered it. Instead of offering an argument, Melanie pulled out the key for Margie and Jonathan’s room and set it on the registration counter. “Miss Gina has you down as staying through Sunday.”
“It’s so nice of you to help Miss Gina out. Poor woman isn’t getting any younger.”
Don’t let her hear you saying that sat unsaid on Melanie’s lips. Let Miss Gina overhear Margie and see how fast it would take for Margie and her suit-wearing fiancé to find themselves at the RV park inside their car.
“Do the rooms have Internet access?” Jonathan finally spoke.
“The house has Wi-Fi access throughout,” Melanie told him.
“Is there a code?”
Melanie forced herself not to laugh. “No one is concerned with stealing Miss Gina’s Internet service.”
“I told you it was a small town, darling,” Margie said.
Jonathan let his eyes wander the foyer without an ounce of amusement.
“It’s only a few days.”
Melanie clicked a few keys on Miss Gina’s computer and removed a receipt for Margie and her reluctant fiancé’s room.
“Breakfast is from seven to nine thirty. There are refreshments in the sitting room throughout the day, and a wine and cheese reception between five and six thirty on Friday and Saturday.”
Margie offered a plastic smile to match her plastic breasts. “That’s lovely . . . isn’t that lovely, Jonathan?”
Jonathan didn’t comment as he grumbled and let Margie pull him away.
“The garden view room is on the second story, first door on the left.”
Jonathan said something about a lack of a bellhop, and Margie tugged on his arm.
“Thank you for waiting.” Melanie addressed the young family standing in the space Margie and her squeeze had just vacated. A boy, not more than six, attempted to climb up onto the counter.
“Is it our turn?”
“Samuel . . . get down.” The young mother removed her son from Miss Gina’s desk with an arm around his waist. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay . . . been there.”
“He’s been in the car for hours.” The man Melanie assumed was Dad removed a wallet from his back pocket as he spoke.
“My daughter’s the same way after a long car ride.” Melanie took his credit card and checked his name. “Wait.” She snapped her eyes back to the man. “Mitchel Giesler? Holy cow . . .” The man was no longer the boy. He had an extra thirty pounds and a beard.
“Melanie Bartlett,” she said, pointing at herself.
“Oh, hey . . . how are you?”
“Good. Not bad.” She looked down at the boy again. “Is this your son?”
“Yeah, and my wife, Letty.”
Melanie glanced between the three of them. “Wow, how much we’ve all changed. Last time I saw you was at graduation . . . you were really . . . celebrating.”
“Yes,” he said with a knowing smile. “I certainly was.”
Samuel was pulling out of his mother’s arms with enough energy to power the house.
“Settle down.”
“I wanna go outside,” the child whined.
Melanie glanced at her old classmate and lifted her voice to the back of the house. “Hope, honey?”
“Yeah?” her daughter answered.
“C’mere, sweetie.”
Hope ran from where she was perched in Miss Gina’s kitchen. Her hair in a ponytail, the smile she’d worn since they’d arrived in River Bend painted on her lips.
She moved alongside Melanie’s leg and glanced at the guests.
“Hope, this is Samuel.”
Her daughter gave a little wave and Samuel smiled.
“Why don’t you take Samuel out back and show him Miss Gina’s garden.”
Samuel wrinkled his nose. “Flowers? Yuck.”
Hope shook her head. “No, silly . . . dirt and worms.”
Samuel’s eyes grew wide.
“If it’s okay with you?” Melanie glanced at Mitchel.
Mitchel placed a hand on Samuel’s back and shoved. “Go, buddy.”
That was all the encouragement the kids needed before they were running out the back door. The sound of the screen slamming had both parents releasing long-suffering breaths.
“Kids and cars don’t mix. Now, where were we?”
CHAPTER SIX
The guests were checked in, the rooms were all clean, and Melanie sat on the back porch watching Hope and Samuel do their best to ruin their clothes with dirt.
“There you are,” Zoe’s voice rang from inside the inn. She pushed through the back door and let it slap shut.
Melanie swatted her palm against the double swing she was perched on in invitation. “I thought you were going to spend the day with your mom and sister.”
“I did, too, but she didn’t bother asking for time off work while I’m here and Zanya’s pregnancy is kicking her butt. Guess I’ll just squeeze in a few hours when I can.” Zoe stretched her long legs out and dropped her purse on the deck. The long expanse of the lawn held a large maple tree with a lone wooden swing. The forest bordered the grass without a single fence blocking the view. A pathetic attempt
at a vegetable garden sported mostly weeds and a pile of dirt. The beginnings of a tomato plant, one probably volunteering its efforts from the previous year, sprang from the earth. The only thing that had changed from her childhood was the size of the tree. “It’s so quiet here. Was it always this quiet?”
“We were too busy yakking to notice. But yeah, I think it was. It’s not quiet in Bakersfield.”
“Not in Dallas either.”
The two of them watched the kids playing for a few minutes. “She’s just like you.”
“I don’t know about that. I didn’t play in the dirt a lot.”
“You grew out of it,” Zoe corrected. “Decided cheer squad and lip gloss were better pastimes.”
Melanie closed her eyes and shook her head. “Don’t remind me. Guess who is staying here this weekend?”
Zoe glanced to the clouds as if they held the answer. “Enlighten me.”
“Margie Taylor.”
“No!”
“Yes . . . with a stuffy fiancé perfectly suited for her.”
Zoe gave the swing a little push. “I thought her parents were still in town.”
“They are. I’m not sure why the two of them are staying here.”
“More money for Miss Gina.” Zoe made a show of looking behind her shoulder. “Where is she, anyway? I didn’t see her van when I pulled in.”
“She said she had an appointment in Eugene. I told her I’d keep everything running. I’ll do anything to avoid reunion setup. My guess is I’ll get a chance to do all of that next year if I’m still in River Bend.”
“You’re really going to stay?” Zoe asked.
Melanie shrugged. “There’s nothing for me back in California. Hope deserves a little more of this. Open, safe space to run and play. People she can trust close by. Rain. I don’t think Miss Gina needs a full-time employee since this place only fills up a few times a year, but maybe this summer will help me figure out a few things.”
The grandfather clock inside the house chimed twice. She unfolded from the swing. “Hope?”
Her daughter glanced up, her face was smudged with dirt. “Yeah?”
Doing It Over (A Most Likely to Novel Book 1) Page 6