Exchange

by CF Frizzell

  “And I love you, sweetheart. I just had to see you. You’re busy, I know, but—”

  Mel kissed her lips hungrily, her neck hard, buried her face in Shay’s collar.

  Shay cupped her head and leaned back. “I’m not staying. I just had to see you, connect with you.”

  “How can I ever thank you for what you’re doing out there, Shay? I was completely shocked. You never let on.”

  “I had to do something, Mel. To hell with paperwork. You need your home back and so does your grandmother, even if she does hate me.” She shrugged and Mel kissed her.

  “Jesus, you are truly amazing.” Mel clung to her, arms desperately tight around her neck. “If only my family could see what you mean to me, see who you are.”

  “Well, I suppose we’ll all meet sometime.” She attempted to lighten the futility of the situation by grinning. “Us good guys are hard at work over there as of lunchtime, even more of us tomorrow. Will you and your family be coming by?”

  Mel nodded and stepped back. “Unfortunately, Dad wants to grill everyone, practically take Social Security numbers, for God’s sake. I’m not trustworthy, you see, since my ‘way of thinking’ has gone south, so I can’t be the one taking care of things maturely.”

  Shay shook her head. What a pathetic, unnecessary mess. How cruel can a parent be? She removed her cap and scruffed up her hair. Mel quickly pulled her hand down and did it herself.

  Shay groaned at the soothing sensation. “How about you do that in front of your father?”

  Mel kissed her again. “I just might, he’s being such a bastard.”

  “Bring them to the house tomorrow.”

  “It might bring on World War Three, Shay, but I intend to stand up for us. I just wish I could say he’ll be reasonable.” She snickered. “I don’t even expect he’ll listen.”

  Shay took a breath, then gathered Mel’s hands to her chest. Mel had to see she meant every word because she’d never meant them more in her life.

  “I should meet your folks, and I have no qualms about squaring off with him, if that’s what he’s after, but not if he’s going to take his prejudices, his anger out on you. I won’t risk that. I’ll just let him say what he’s got to say and I’ll shrug it off.” She kissed Mel’s fingers. “But one thing I won’t do is watch while he beats you down the way he does.”

  “Shay, he’s—”

  “I won’t stand for it, Mel.”

  “My badass dyke.”

  “I’ve had my moments.” She set her forehead against Mel’s and hardened her voice. “There’s no negotiation here, sweetheart, not when it comes to taking shit—from anyone. I love you and I’m more than willing to say so joyously, but if he lashes out at you, he’ll learn it the hard way.”

  “All right, Shay!” Mike pumped his fist in the doorway.

  Mel rested her head on Shay’s chest. “Michael. Again?”

  “I have exquisite timing, y’know.” He grinned at Shay. “I’ve met her Dad and—sorry, Mel—he’s a sonuva-B. But you can take him, Shay.”

  Shay chuckled and held Mel out at arm’s length. “You are what matters to me, Mel. That’s all.”

  She practically lifted Mel off her feet, kissing her, and yearned to kiss away Mel’s anguish, wished they had the whole night to enjoy each other.

  “I’m leaving now.” She stroked back some of Mel’s runaway hair and kissed her forehead. “You get to work. One thing at a time. Go make that newspaper that everyone itches to read on Thursdays.”

  Mel ran her hands over the breadth of Shay’s chest and down her arms.

  “You always make me smile, Shay Maguire. Please be safe.”

  Shay backed away and opened the door. “Always.”

  Shay fired up the Softail, shattered the quiet along Main Street, and rolled away. Cool air shot into her lungs and freshened her heated blood. How could such a warm, compassionate woman be related to such a prick? God, what are we in for?

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  The two-hour catnap at dawn bolstered Mel’s stamina through brunch with her family the following morning, but wore off by the time she and her mother arrived at the homestead. Thankful for the caffeine buzz off several cups of coffee, Mel gathered her wits for the emotional showdown that awaited her.

  “Melissa!” Her mother gasped as the car came to a stop. Mel was just as surprised to see so many hard at work. She recognized one face after another, and knew there were more inside. Shay was inside.

  A beaming Barbara Rogers approached, arm waving, and Mel shook her head in amazement as Barbara gathered her in a hug.

  “What do ya think, honey? Surprise!”

  “Oh, God, Barbara. I don’t know what to say, honestly. Mom? This is Barbara Rogers. Barbara? My mother, Connie Baker.”

  Barbara’s enthusiasm wouldn’t quit as she shook her mother’s hand. “We look out for each other in Tomson, Connie.” She set an arm around Mel’s shoulders. “Your daughter has done so much for this town. We’re more than happy to help.”

  “I can’t thank you enough. All these people. How amazing!”

  “C’mon,” Barbara said, steering them toward the house. “Let me introduce you.”

  Proud of her friends and humbled beyond belief, Mel doubted her father would recognize such support. She looked haplessly at her mother. “You think this would impress Dad?”

  “Oh, you’ll see. He’ll be along soon. You know your father, Melissa. He simply had to see Frank Brennan at the bank and assess Nana’s affairs as soon as he could. He’s thrilled that Frank’s become manager. He and your father still correspond now and then, you know.”

  “I didn’t know.” But I should have guessed.

  Barbara brought them to meet every worker, yelled up to the roof, coaxed people off ladders, and ventured inside toward the newly installed staircase. Stunned at the assemblage of people, Mel expressed heartfelt appreciation to each one, provided some background about them to her mother as they went.

  “And who’s this?” came the deep voice.

  Barbara turned to Tommy and slid an arm around his waist.

  “Honey, this is Mel’s mother, Connie Baker. Connie, my husband, Tom.”

  “Pleasure meeting you, Connie.”

  “Mom, Tommy’s the maintenance foreman at the Five Star. A lot of his guys are here today. And it looks like they provided the stuff to work with, too.”

  Her mother’s expression was glazed. “All you people are so wonderful. Thank you so much.”

  Mel hugged him. “Thank you, Tommy. I am beyond shocked. Does Della know what her guys are up to?”

  Rogers simply winked.

  “Connie, your daughter is the town’s sweetheart. Any lady as smart as Mel who decides to stay here in our little town deserves all our support. She’s raised our culture level a notch or two, let me tell you.” Mel felt her mother set a maternal hand on her back. “Of course,” he added, leaning closer confidentially, “once Shay explained you folks were in town, we jumped. It’s our pleasure, believe me.” Tommy pecked Barbara on the cheek and was gone.

  Her mother whispered, “This Shay…The boss is here, too? My God, Melissa. I think my daughter is a celebrity.”

  “Well, ladies.” Barbara rubbed her hands together eagerly. “Let’s not dillydally. Let’s go meet the ‘boss.’”

  Mel’s insides knotted tighter with each step. Her heart pounded mercilessly. She met Barbara’s twinkling eyes and wondered if she had any idea of the trepidation rattling Mel’s bones.

  Barbara led the way up the new stairs, narrating. “Shay Maguire was project manager for the big Fourth of July Festival we just had. Too bad you folks didn’t come in last weekend. What a terrific time. Tomson’s biggest bash ever.”

  “The project manager?” her mother repeated. “Oh my.”

  “Yup,” Barbara rolled on. “Kinda new in town, but she’s done one heck of a job since she’s been here. Tommy thinks the world of her. We all do.”

  “Her? Well, isn’t t
hat unique.”

  Mel steadied her breathing. Thank you, Barb.

  “I really want you to meet her, Mom. She’s, well, she’s just terrific.”

  In the stifling heat of the second floor landing, as an oldies radio station blared from down the hall, Mel tried to read her mother’s reaction to Misty, armed with a cordless screwdriver and pouch of screws hanging from her waist. Sheetrock dust frosted her dark curls, her shoulders, arms, and knees, but Misty’s shapely figure left no doubt that a woman was hard at work.

  Shay stepped into view and grunted a four-by-eight sheet of drywall into position. Misty dodged around her, driving in screws to take up the load. Mel swallowed hard. With Shay, her mother might have doubts.

  “Lord, Melissa, that looks awfully heavy.”

  If that’s her first reaction to Shay, there’s hope.

  Shay’s mint green tank top was covered with everything that would adhere to sweat-soaked cotton. Every muscle flexed and clenched as she held the drywall in position, and moisture shone off every inch of available skin. Mom could never appreciate this.

  As Misty set the last screw, Mel cleared her throat to gain their attention.

  “Hi,” Shay and Misty said in unison, and each reached for cloths to dry their faces.

  Misty extended a dusty hand as she approached.

  “I’m sorry we’re so—”

  “Not at all!” Mel’s mother interrupted, accepting the small hand. “Not to worry.”

  “Guys, this is my mother, Connie Baker. Mom, this is Misty Kincaid and Shay Maguire.”

  Shay stepped forward. “I’m very glad to meet you, Mrs. Baker,” she said, and shook her hand.

  “You girls certainly know how to get all worked up.”

  “It’s this July heat,” Shay said. “It’s a killer.”

  “Barbara’s giving us the tour, meeting everyone, Shay.” Mel tried not to gaze, feeling helpless at the rush of affection that vibrated through her. “I truly can’t believe all this. You got all these people here?”

  Shay grinned, and the sparkle in her eyes warmed Mel to her core.

  “Shay’s a slave driver, Mrs. Baker,” Misty said, drawing attention from the intimate exchange. “But we love Mel, and this is a labor of love.”

  “Absolutely true,” Shay stated.

  Mel’s mother moved forward suddenly and squeezed Shay in a long hug. Mel felt faint.

  “You are so special,” her mother said, a tremor in her voice. “Saying thank you is nowhere near sufficient.”

  Shay chuckled, her cheeks reddened, and she eased her away by a shoulder. “Please, no. Look at you now. Your gorgeous outfit is a mess from me.”

  “Hush, you!” She playfully slapped at Shay’s chest. “I wish Melissa’s father was here to see what you all are doing, you girls.”

  “He didn’t make the trip with you?” Shay asked. She wiped her face again.

  No such luck, Shay.

  “Oh, he’ll be right along, all right. He took his mother to the bank. Money, money, money. He’s a stickler.”

  Mel caught Misty watching her every move. Yes, I need to start digging in.

  “Mom, I’d like to take the three of you to dinner tonight…”

  “Oh, how nice. Thank you, honey. That’s sweet of you.”

  Mel moved to Shay’s side and placed a hand on her upper arm, oblivious to the slippery grime coating the bicep. “And, Shay, I’d love to have you join us—if you’re free, that is.”

  “Just so happens, I am. Thank you.”

  “Of course you should join us,” Mel’s mother insisted. “It’ll be fun.”

  “Excellent,” Mel said, unable to break her visual connection with Shay. I wish Mom could see what I see. She gave the bicep a discreet little squeeze but didn’t let go. She inhaled deeply, exhaled, and Barbara and Misty faded from view. They know what’s coming. Do I?

  “Mom?”

  Her mother eyed her curiously, but noticed Mel’s hand still on Shay’s arm. Mel let her see.

  “Mom, there’s…” She released Shay’s arm to take her hand instead, and entwined their fingers. Her mother’s eyes followed. “I want you to know, we…Shay and I—”

  “Melissa?” She turned to Shay. “You…?”

  Shay rested her hand atop Mel’s. “Mrs. Baker—”

  Mel’s mother raised a palm for silence and looked from Mel to Shay several times.

  “Don’t. Please, don’t. Not a word. Not right now.” She glanced at Misty and Barbara, who stood offering a chair and glass of water, respectively, and then at Mel. “I’m not sure I can handle what I think you’re saying.”

  Misty set a hand on her shoulder. “Would you like to sit a minute?”

  “Please.” She sat slowly, obviously stunned, and accepted the glass from Barbara.

  Mel crouched in front of her mother, palms on her knees affectionately. Her mother stroked her cheek as if for the first time—or the last—and a flashback struck Mel at that moment, of sitting with her grandmother, trying to reason with her, comfort her as she sobbed.

  “It’s real, Mom,” Mel whispered. “It’s very real. Unexpected and undeniable. And wonderful.”

  Now her mother studied Shay, and Mel knew what she was seeing, the tall, lean, sweaty butch woman with the rocky jaw and the filthy clothes, far from the sophisticated businessman her parents had always hoped she’d find. Mel looked up at Shay, and Shay fumbled briefly with the rag in her hand, but lifted her gaze back to her mother’s. She won’t be stared down, Mom, whether you’re analyzing her stature or her soul.

  “So, you, Shay…and my daughter?”

  Mel took a breath and waited.

  “Yes, ma’am. Totally.”

  Her mother swallowed so hard Mel heard it. Her water glass shook in her hand. “Melissa. As much as it confounds me to ask…Heaven help me. How do I ask this?” She sipped her water hurriedly. “Are you…You and Shay…?”

  “We love each other very much.”

  Her mother exhaled a ragged breath and sipped her water again before standing. Mel rose also.

  “Dear Lord,” her mother said, and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I thought all I had to deal with back here was a house. I can’t believe this. How am I ever going to break this to your father?”

  “I will, Mom.”

  “I will,” Shay said. “I’ll tell him.”

  Her mother grimaced. “Oh no, no. Not Robert. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.” She went absently to the window, sipped her water, and sighed. “I don’t want either of you speaking to him. At least…not until I do. Somehow.”

  Mel shared a dubious look with Shay.

  Her mother turned back to them. “Obviously, Shay, you have an enormous heart. What you’ve done here for Melissa is truly thoughtful and incredibly generous, but…” She sighed again. “Unfortunately, it won’t matter a damn, once Robert learns what the bottom line is. Our daughter is in love with a woman—again.” She shivered. “Melissa, I-I thought you’d…Well, I don’t know, I thought you’d outgrown whatever this is. It’s hard to even verbalize.”

  “It’s who I am, Mom. Who I’ve always been.” She jiggled Shay’s hand. “And this is for keeps.”

  “We really should discuss this, Melissa. It’s a shock, I’m sure you realize, and your father, my God, he’ll, well…I shudder to think. But this comes with some very serious repercussions, and it’s a matter we need to discuss as a family. You know what I’m talking about.”

  Mel set her mother’s glass aside and took her hands. “Discussion as a family won’t change this, not anymore. There’s no changing who I am. This means everything to me, and I want to share it with you,” she glanced brightly at Shay, “share my happiness with you.”

  Her mother cupped her cheek. “Well, there’s certainly no denying the happiness I see in you, dear. Your father…Oh, sweet Melissa. You know I want you to be happy.”

  Mel squeezed her hands reassuringly. “I have incredible friends, a spectacular love in my life
after all these years, and the most wonderful mother on earth.” She pulled her mother into her arms and hugged her tightly. “I love you, Mom.”

  Loud, racing footsteps cut into the moment, and an agitated voice called out.

  “Hey, Shay! Mel’s dad is here and her grandmother, too, but—”

  Coby bounded into the room and came to an abrupt halt. Then turned scarlet. She tugged at her denim vest and wiped a hand on her paint-spattered cutoffs. Everyone chuckled and Barbara left to start another tour downstairs.

  “Ah, hi. I’m Coby Palmer.” She offered her hand. “You’re Mrs. Baker? Pleased to meet you.”

  Somewhat bewildered, Mel’s mother accepted the handshake. “You make quite an entrance, Ms. Palmer.”

  “Ah, sorry about barging in.” Still antsy, she glanced around the room.

  Shay frowned. “You said Mel’s dad and grandmother are here ‘but’?”

  Coby’s face dropped. She pointed over her shoulder. “Downstairs, they’re going through the first floor. He’s with Angie Sorvini.”

  “What?” Shay surged forward, but Mel tugged at her shirt.

  “Let me go,” Mel said. “You guys forget about him.”

  “Get him the hell out of here, Mel.”

  Mel sensed her mother’s curiosity, knew she saw Shay’s fire rise, and wasn’t surprised when she commented.

  “Angelo is still in Tomson? I’d thought he’d be long gone by now, looking to buy up the entire Northwest. Whatever is he doing with your father?”

  “My question exactly,” Mel said with a snarl. “He’s no good.”

  “He never was, dear.”

  “He attacked Shay a while back and goes to court for it next week.”

  “Gracious!” She looked at Shay quickly before turning back to Mel. “That man does think he’s superior to everyone, but not to worry. Your father’s known him for ages and knows what he’s dealing with.”

  “Excuse me,” Coby injected, “but I’m heading back down.” She sent a foreboding look to Shay. “My paint, y’know? Gotta go.”

  Mel’s mother set her glass on the chair. “I’m going with you, Ms. Palmer.”