Love Comes Home: A Collection of Second Chance Short Stories

by Kristi Rose

  "I wish you'd wait."

  "Your wish has been granted. The money I was going to use will now have to go to getting these repairs started."

  "But insurance should cover it."

  "Insurance will piecemeal the payouts and cover the fire. Not the electrical. That pushes back my baby-getting plan until this project is done." She sounded very close to tears.

  Jared checked the durability of the door and the security of the lock. His crew had done a good job.

  "This will hold. It's not a long-term solution, but I'll take another look in the daylight. Maybe we can make it work for a while so you don't have to postpone anything." He couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth. Hadn't he just asked her to give it more thought? Now he was an enabler. He shook his head in disgust. His love for her was the bane of his common sense.

  "I can only hope." She pressed her hands together as if attempting to contain her optimism.

  "I'll see ya in the morning," he said and waited for her to precede him to the front of the house.

  "What about the food you brought?"

  Her flashlight lit up the dark hallway, but once in the front room, the brightness of the lamps made him squint.

  "I'm good. Mainly, I wanted to make sure that you were doing OK and that the door was safe enough. I've done that. I'll see you in the morning." He gave her a nod and turned to leave, tripping over one of her ruined mule slippers.

  This woman with her flaxen hair, heart-shaped mouth, and hourglass figure, who haunted his dreams, had now just blown his mind with her desires for hearth and home.

  Not that he was surprised by that. Quite the opposite, in fact. He just thought perhaps he would have more time to make her see she might want those things with him. Clearly, he'd never even been a consideration.

  HE'S THE ONE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  She awoke early, having tossed and turned through most of the night, her conversation with Jared on a loop. Determined not to read into anything he said, she decided that any, likely all, his reactions had been based on shock.

  The idea that a chance, albeit a small one, might exist, and she could achieve her targeted plans filled her with new energy. She didn't care that she had showered in the dark or had blown her hair dry in the foyer using her hall mirror. She had hope.

  She arrived at the diner as her dad was setting up the tables and Chuck, the short order cook, was prepping the kitchen.

  "Hey, darling," her dad, Bert, called as she stored her purse in a cabinet in the kitchen.

  "Hey, Pops." She kissed his cheek, then took the large saltbox from him and moved to the next table to continue his work.

  "Stopped by yesterday and saw the damage. We're telling your momma it was a small electrical fire that was contained to one area so she won't worry."

  "That's basically true."

  "Right," he said, pointing at her. "But I don't know how long I can keep her away so the sooner you get it fixed the better."

  Melinda paused, wondering if she should share her dilemma with her father. "Jared's already come by."

  "Good. Good."

  "But it might take a while. The electrical needs to be looked at."

  "Hell, that's no good. Your momma might want you to move home until it’s all taken care of. You know how she worries." He placed full ketchup bottles on the tables, working around her.

  Moving home, even temporarily, was not an option. If she had to sleep one night in her childhood bedroom, a room her momma had left intact from her senior year seventeen years ago, she'd need at least ten more years of therapy. Hands down. It was her momma, after all, who set her up to believe she was a princess, and all things ahead of her would be shroud in glitter and rainbows. Learning the truth had been a hard lesson.

  "I'm opening up, darling," her dad said as he flipped on the neon open sign and turned the locks. "Here comes the crew."

  Without fail, many of the local delivery guys and gals came in for breakfast. Their schedule so predictable Melinda knew who was on and off by the day of the week, and she found comfort in the regularity. The morning passed quickly, and Melinda got lost in the mechanics of transitioning the diner from breakfast to lunch.

  "Woohoo, baby." The shrill call of her momma's voice put Melinda's instinct to flee at conflict with etiquette. Part of her wanted to duck and commando crawl out of the dining area and into kitchen, and the other part of her wanted to cover her ears and pretend she heard nothing. That trick had worked when she was a kid.

  Instead, she turned to accept the hug she knew would be coming her way. "Momma." She kissed her cheek, using the action to stifle the groan that wanted to escape when she set eyes on her aunt who trailed behind her momma.

  "Aunt Glory." She waited for her mother's older sister to indicate whether she wanted to hug or kiss. One could never be presumptuous. When her aunt presented her cheek, Melinda obliged, pressing a light kiss for fear if she'd press with too much force she'd get the old windbag going.

  "Sweet child," Glory said with a dismissive pat.

  "Melinda, honey. Glory and I are going to Orlando to do some shopping. You should come with us." Her mother took a seat at a table for four and placed her oversize purse in the chair next to her.

  "I'm working, momma." She flipped over the coffee cups on the preset table and poured each a cup.

  "You can skip out early, can't you?" Her momma bat her large blue eyes, a strategy she'd used most of her life to achieve her goals.

  Melinda would rather have the worst kind of fungus on each of her shellacked nails, rendering her weekly manicures off limits, than go shopping with them. "Not really. Besides, there're things I need to do with the house. Clean up from the fire."

  "Yes, but honey, just throw a rug over it or hang a picture. Out of sight, out of mind. It'll still be waiting for you when you get home, and maybe while we're out you might find the perfect accent piece."

  "To accentuate the fire?" Melinda turned to glare at her dad. Downplaying the fire had been his idea after all, and now her mother thought it was something so small and insignificant a picture could cover it up.

  "To help you get over the fire. Something to cheer you up."

  A baby would cheer her up, tremendously, but she kept that thought to herself. Her sunroom miraculously being built by a benevolent do-gooder would be nice, as would Jared finding no further electrical problems. Heck, Jared suddenly falling in love with her would set her right for eternity. A knick-knack would most definitely not cheer her up.

  "I'll think about," she said.

  She made a mental note to slip away before they were done with their meal, but the diner had a different agenda. Midweek was typically steady, but today, likely due to some event happening in town, the diner was packed. She was trying to concoct an exit strategy since her mother and aunt were nearly finished with their breakfast when Jared came in and stood by the counter.

  "Hey." She searched his face in hopes to ascertain how the conversation might go considering last night’s talk. His text this morning asking her to leave a key under the mat had left her with endless questions. If she were the type to waste energy on running endless scenarios, she'd have surely done that. But, to Melinda, that was time better spent elsewhere, and the answer would only be known when he told her how he felt.

  "Hey." His smile was slight, but at least he met her gaze. "The electrician finished, and I thought we could talk about what he found and some of your options."

  "OK. I'd rather do it outside of here. That OK?"

  He nodded. "If you agree to the idea I have then we might need to go pick out a door, so that sounds fine with me."

  "Can I grab you anything to eat?"

  He shook his head. "Why don't I take you somewhere to grab some food. We can talk about all the options."

  "OK." She smiled and stepped back, her gaze holding his. There was something new in the way he looked at her, something tender, or perhaps it was
something hungry. She wasn't sure.

  One more step back and Jared continued to watch her. Did all the talk of babies open up his eyes and paint her in a new light? Maybe he was seeing her for the woman she was and not his kid brother's ex-wife, or a flirt, or what she secretly feared—a risk and not marriageable material.

  She flashed him a quick smile before scanning the diner for her dad. "Excuse me."

  Popping her head into the kitchen she said, "You have everything under control here? Jared says the electrician is done, and we need to talk through some options. I was hoping I could split. I can come back to help with the dinner service."

  He waved her off. "Go take care of it. I have a fishing trip scheduled next week, and if your momma gets her mind set on you moving in, I can see that trip going down like a sinking ship."

  "Thanks, Daddy." She kissed his cheek.

  "But tell your momma you aren't going shopping."

  Melinda groaned. "Do I have to?"

  When her dad raised one brow, she sighed in defeat. Grabbing her purse from under the counter, she pushed through the swinging doors from the kitchen and reentered the diner. Jared was talking to a guy she recognized as the local pool man. Likely, he and Jared did business together, and when her eyes met Jared's, he smiled and winked.

  Lord, this man. He never stared too long at her chest and always laughed at her jokes, sincerely laughed, not the I-want-to-get-in-your-pants laugh. He always gave her first pick of the fortune cookies when they shared takeout and refused to let her open a door. Jeez, she was crazy about him.

  She stopped at her momma's table. "I have to go with Jared to work out some details about the fire. Sorry. Maybe next time I can go shopping with y'all."

  "Melinda—"

  "Momma. I really need to take care of this. Please try to understand." She leaned down and kissed her mother's cheek, then did the same to her aunt. "Y'all have a good time."

  She'd no sooner turned her back and took a step toward Jared when her aunt's voice carried across the diner.

  "Maybe if you unbuttoned one of those top buttons on your shirt and leaned over the counter more you'd find yourself a man. You wouldn't need to be getting that sperm from the bank and could get yourself in the family way honestly."

  Jared rubbed his hand over his head, and she knew he was searching for the right reaction. She spun on her heel. "Momma, how could you tell her my business?"

  "Oh, honey, you know me. I get one glass of wine in me, and nothing is off limits."

  Melinda stared at her aunt, a million biting remarks ready to be spoken, but the challenging look on her aunt's face stopped her. What was the point of a verbal spat with a bitter old woman?

  "Melinda?" Jared said from behind her.

  She turned to leave.

  "Good idea leaving with him," her aunt called from behind her. "Maybe the older brother can accomplish what the younger one couldn't."

  Dignity was the point.

  She looked around the diner. Some people stared, while others looked away, embarrassed either for her or by her. Did it matter?

  She faced her aunt. "Aunt Glory, I make no apologies for who I am or what I want. I'm no different than most people. Sure, I've been unlucky in love." She gave a short laugh. "We can all agree on that, right? But I've never used a man, and I certainly won't start now, and what you suggest is...is... You owe Jared an apology."

  "Hey, let's just leave and get something to eat." Jared touched her elbow, his fingers gently pressing in, coaxing her to walk away.

  She stared at her aunt, daring her to say something more.

  "Yeah. Let's." She turned her back and lifted her chin. She could feel the diner's crowd watching her. With her eyes forward, she allowed Jared to guide her from the diner and to his truck.

  They drove in silence for about a mile before Melinda pressed the button that lowered the window. With the air cooling both her flushed face and her temper, she tried to gather her wits.

  HE'S THE ONE

  CHAPTER FIVE

  "Are you ok?" He didn't know what to say. He was reeling from the foreign desire to punch a woman in the mouth. Damn that mean aunt of hers.

  "I don't think I'm hungry. Could you just take me home?"

  "Melly, don't let her get to you."

  She gave him a small smile. "I'm not actually. Just a tad embarrassed that she aired my business and brought you into it. That's all. I prefer to be the one to share my affairs. Let's talk about something else. Tell me about the electrician."

  Not looking at him once, she continued to stare out the window. The wind lifted and twirled strands of her hair and, without belaboring the decision, he took her hand. It was a good sign when she didn't pull hers away that she was letting him in.

  He wanted to do more, hold her and reassure her through touch. He wanted to see her rage or swear or do something more than simply stare out the window.

  "Well, I'm sorry to say that the wiring is faulty. There were even signs of a different small fire in your attic."

  She turned to face him, and then closed her eyes and rested her head against the seat. "Of course, there was."

  "I think that should be your first priority. While he was checking the electricity, I was looking at the back of your house. That wall isn't as damaged as it looks. With a little bit of work, a small expense, and a new door, I can get that up to code. It'll meet my standard of personal safety and look good, too. You won't have a sunroom, but you can build that on at any time. Like they did, but better, of course."

  "It still puts off my plans." She didn't even open her eyes.

  "Yeah, maybe. But I think we should go after the inspector for all the cost. He's bonded, and there's no way this should have passed inspection. We can even go after the electrician. You'll get this covered and then some. It's a short wait, but then what's the rush?"

  Jared pulled his truck along the curb next to her house and cut the engine. He knew as soon as he'd said the words they'd been the wrong ones to say. Melinda turned her stony expression toward him.

  "What's the rush?" she yelled as she unbuckled her seatbelt and pushed the door open. She jumped out, turned to look him square in the eye, and slammed the door as hard as she could.

  He followed her. "Melly…" he said to her back.

  She swiveled on her heel and pointed a finger in his face. "I make no apologies for who I am."

  "Nor should you."

  "I've made mistakes," she said, tapping her chest. "Sure. We all have. Mine, I suppose, are just more fun to talk about and poke fun at. This...this baby thing will just be something else for them to say about me, but I don't care. I don't care."

  "Melinda—"

  "Yeah, sometimes I've been more forward, more open and less coy, but bullshit games like that piss me off. Everyone I've ever hit on has been a consenting adult, and I like sex. I like it a lot. It's especially good when shared with someone you have an emotional connection with. I'm not going to apologize for that either because I haven't broken the rules. I don't steal husbands. I'm not a cheater."

  He wasn't sure what she wanted him to say, if anything. But at the mention of sex, his mind had taken a slight deviation, forcing him to rein it back in.

  "But let me tell you what the rush is. The rush is that I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of trying to do everything by the book, hoping people would say something nice about me for a change. But like my daddy says, 'I can shit in one hand and hope with the other and see which one fills up first'. I'm tired of shit. I want a baby. I want a family. I want a house that doesn't catch fire when a light is turned on, and I want a sunroom."

  She turned back on her heel and stomped up the front porch stairs and into the house.

  "We all want that Melinda," he said, following her in and slamming the door behind him.

  "Yes, but you can get it anytime you want. Just ask any girl out, and they'll follow you to hell and back. People like you Jared. They like that you
took over your daddy's business. They like that you don't baby Keith and you make him work, which builds his self-esteem. You're a citizen they're proud of."

  "You think I wanted this life? You think I wouldn't want to be out there chasing my dreams like Lance? I never wanted to run a construction company. But ever since we were kids, my dad pounded into us that this was our legacy. Our destiny. Hell, the day I was born he painted Calhoun and Sons on all the work trucks. But process of elimination left me holding the bag. I wanted to be an architect. Build skyscrapers or colleges."

  "At least, it's sorta close," she said, her voice soft. He knew she was trying to find the silver lining, but now he was pissed off, too.

  "So if I bring you a puppy and tell you to mother it—that it's sorta close—that'll work for you? That'll fix this insane need to have a child by yourself?"

  "Fair enough," she snapped.

  He followed her into the kitchen and nearly ran into her back when she stopped short.

  "What's that?" She pointed to the oversize silly elephant slippers he'd brought over this morning and left sitting on her kitchen table, a pink bow tying them together.

  "I bought you some slippers. I noticed yours were ruined, and I couldn't find any like them so I got these. I figured they might make you smile. You've had a crummy week."

  She pulled them off the table and hugged them to her chest. With eyes closed she asked, "Why?"

  "Because I want to see you happy."

  "Because I'm family?"

  For the first time, he realized calling her “family” might not be helping his cause, but if he put it all out there and she rejected him, well, he didn't know what he'd do. "Maybe if you were happier, you wouldn't need a baby?"

  Melinda's eyes snapped open. "And it starts with slippers?"

  "It starts somewhere."

  "I don't understand why you're acting like this. Why you're so resistant. This doesn't affect you."

  "But it affects the man in your life."