by Grace Palmer
Melanie cocks a brow. “Almost?”
Derek takes a tentative step toward her. “I left because I felt like there was a part of me missing that I couldn’t find in Willow Beach. I found what I was looking for, and for the first time in my life, I felt like I was living.” He takes another step, and Melanie eyes him suspiciously. “But I’ve missed you the entire time. There hasn’t been a day when the thought of you hasn’t crossed my mind. I kept my distance because I didn’t think it would be fair for me to pop in and out of your life after leaving so suddenly, but I’m finished. I’m ready to settle down. And I want to do it with you.”
Melanie’s skin flashes cold, then hot. She takes a deep breath and tries to corral her nerves, which are bouncing around under her skin. So many thoughts zip through her mind. She doesn’t know what to feel. Should she be angry with him? Happy that he’s finally saying all the things she dreamed of him saying in the months after he left? Confused by why he’s saying them now?
Inevitably, she is a mixture of all of these things.
“Mel?” Derek prompts. “Are you going to say something?”
Melanie’s mouth is dry. She wets her lips. “I don’t know what to say.”
“I know it’s a lot to take in,” he says.
A lot to take in doesn’t quite cover it. Melanie can’t believe this is happening.
“I just—” Melanie blinks. She wants to say, I don’t know what to say, but as she’s already said that, she plucks the next thing that springs to mind. “It has been such a long time.”
“I know it has.” Derek takes a step closer, until they are only feet apart. “I don’t expect you to forgive me all at once, but I hope that you’ll give me a chance.”
Part of her wants to scream at him, What—a chance to break my heart again?
Another part of her wants to let him hold her and tell her he loves her, and that everything is going to be okay.
She doesn’t know what to do.
“Let me take you out for dinner,” Derek says, sensing her conflict. “You must be starving.”
Melanie is both ravenous and queasy. A little voice in her head screams that she needs to go with him, that this is all she has been waiting for all this time, but she refuses to give in.
“No,” she says, straightening her back in an attempt to look strong and resolute. “You hurt me more than anybody else ever has. You made me look like a total idiot. You don’t just get to pop back into my life now that it’s convenient for you.” She crosses her arms. “Please leave.”
Melanie’s legs feel weak and her skin is flushed. She knows what comes next. Derek is going to get angry, he’s going to say something cruel and belittling and it’ll crush her to hear it but at least she will know that she made the right decision.
Derek’s expression falls. He looks down at his feet and takes a breath, nodding slowly.
“Okay,” he says in a gentle voice. “I’ll go.”
He looks up and steps toward Melanie. She shuffles back, and the hurt that splatters his features is enough to make Melanie’s heart ache.
Derek clears his throat. “I’m not giving up on you, Mel. I don’t care how long it takes. I hurt you bad and I know it might take you some time, but I think you will forgive me in the end.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” she replies in a small voice.
Derek smiles sadly. “We’re meant to be together. You might not want to admit that now, but deep down, you know it’s true.”
“Please go.”
He nods. “Okay. I’ll see you soon.”
Derek turns and walks to the door. The bell chimes as he opens it, and he casts one last glance backward before disappearing into the night.
Melanie sucks in a deep breath and goes to lean against the wall. She closes her eyes and tries to rein in her runaway heartbeat.
What just happened? One second, everything in her life made sense and now it’s all been thrown into disarray. She can hardly process the fact that her ex-husband just waltzed through her front door and begged for another chance. How is that fair?
Melanie locks up the practice in a daze. She is halfway up the stairs to her apartment when she realizes she left Bandit downstairs. She hurries back into the office and picks up the little dog, who wags his tail and tries to stick his tongue in her ear.
She takes Bandit outside and then carries him up to her apartment. He curls up happily on the dog bed in the living room as Melanie pours herself a glass of red wine, still lost in her thoughts.
Derek is back. Derek is back.
Melanie nearly calls Sabrina but decides against it. She needs to figure out how she feels about this first. Otherwise, Sabrina will make up her mind for her.
Her initial thoughts are that Derek can take a long walk off a short pier for leaving her and then having the audacity to come crawling back years later.
But then again …
We’re meant to be together. You might not want to admit that now, but deep down, you know it’s true.
Is it possible that he’s right? After all, Melanie never recovered from him leaving. She was talking about this with her mom and sister just the other day. Is his coming back now a sign of some sort?
Melanie collapses onto the couch with a sigh. She takes a big sip of wine and flips on the TV. It is still set to Animal Planet. She tunes in just as a funny-looking amphibian saunters across an underwater rock.
“The axolotl is one of the world’s most interesting creatures,” the presenter says. “They used to be found in many lakes throughout Mexico. However, urbanization means that very few now survive in the wild. Researches have held an interest in their biology for many years as axolotls have an uncanny ability to regenerate damaged tissues …”
Melanie flicks the TV off. She has spent years with no sign of Derek, and now she can’t escape him. She takes another sip of her wine and hauls herself up from the couch, giving in to the urge to walk down memory lane.
There is a box of loose photographs in the back of the closet. They used to hang in frames around the house, but after Derek left, Melanie couldn’t bear to look at them anymore. Several are from their honeymoon in Mexico, and Melanie digs through to find these specifically.
Ah, there they are. Melanie sits on the floor and flips through the photos, frowning.
Past Melanie and Derek smile back at her. They both look so happy. In one photo, they pose next to one of the parrots that hung around the resort. In another, they clink glasses over a piece of cake with a sparkler in it. Then there is a photo of Derek lifting her into his arms while the sapphire water licks at his ankles.
Melanie lies back on the floor and closes her eyes. That was a good trip. It was the best trip.
On the first day, they arrived in the afternoon and didn’t leave until nearly 11:00 p.m. They were the last customers of the night in the open-air restaurant and ate black bean tostadas and Baja fish tacos under a carpet of stars while the warm ocean breeze kissed their cheeks.
The rest of the week felt like one endless, perfect day.
They spent their mornings sprawled out on beachfront loungers reading or listening to music. In the afternoons, if they were feeling adventurous, they would rent kayaks, paddleboards, or ATVs. Sometimes they would just swim lazily around the pool, letting the sun soak into their skin while sipping on cold, golden beer and frosty mojitos.
In the evening, they drank wine and laughed and chatted with some of the other couples. They even learned to salsa dance. By the end of the week, they were both reasonably good at it, and on their last night, they danced for hours until they fell into each other’s arms, sticky with sweat.
Every meal was decadent—spicy tomato rice; huevos rancheros with ripe, rich tomatoes and golden egg yolks; pulled pork with thick almond mole; crispy cinnamon churros with creamy dulce de leche. During the day, they nibbled on chips and salsa bursting with flavor from the fresh tomatoes, onions, and cilantro. One night, Derek ordered a steak that came out still sizz
ling on the cast iron grill, and Melanie was so envious that he split it with her. Each piece melted in her mouth and to this day Melanie has never had a steak so delicious.
Both Derek and Melanie said more than once on their trip that they were the happiest they’d ever been. They were young and in love and the world was a blank canvas before them. Why should they not be happy?
Melanie sits up with a sigh and drains the rest of her wine. It tastes dull in comparison to her memories.
She puts the pictures back in the box and shoves them into the back of the closet.
Where they belong.
23
Tasha
Audition day.
It has been so long since Tasha auditioned for anything that her nerves are throbbing, and it is hard to keep her breath even. She stands in the lobby of the theater and tries to contain the urge to pace.
Why is she so worried? This is Willow Beach, not Hollywood. And if she doesn’t get the part? So what? She won’t be any worse off than she is now.
Then again, Tasha needs a win. And she doesn’t want to make a fool of herself in front of Eddie.
The other people waiting to audition seem a lot more relaxed than Tasha and she tries to get on their level, taking deep breaths. She knows she’s talented—so as long as she doesn’t flub the words of her song, she should be okay.
A man with glasses pops his head out of the auditorium and glances at the paper in his hand. “Tasha Baldwin?”
Tasha takes one last deep breath and charges forward toward her fate. She walks to the stage and climbs it, calm spreading through her limbs as her footsteps echo on the wood. It feels good to be back on stage. It feels like home.
“Tasha Baldwin.” Eddie’s familiar voice sends a shiver down her spine. He is seated three rows back with a man and a woman on either side of him, all of them with clipboards. He smiles at her. “I’m glad you made it.”
“Happy to be here.” Tasha smiles back.
“What will you be performing for us today?” he asks.
Something about being back in Willow Beach has made Tasha nostalgic. Whereas in Hollywood, she would usually audition with Colbie Callait’s “Bubbly,” she has decided to go back to her old high school favorite.
“‘Defying Gravity,’” she says.
Eddie nods approvingly and gestures for her to begin.
There is no music, so when she begins to sing, Tasha’s voice floods the auditorium. She channels all of her angst, all of her stress and her loneliness and worry, and molds it around every note. She has not sung in front of an audience for a long time and she forgot how good it feels.
With all eyes on her, the rest of the world slips away. It is not the best she has ever sung, but the lightness it brings to her chest makes this the best she has felt in a long time.
When she is finished, all three of her judges applaud. “Very good,” Eddie says after a beat. “We will definitely be in touch.”
Tasha nods, heart fluttering like a ribbon in the wind. “Thank you.”
She steps off the stage and walks back out the way she came, unable to wipe the smile off her face. As she opens the door, she hears footfalls behind her and turns to see Eddie racing up the aisle.
“Hey,” he whispers, smiling as he comes to a stop in front of her. “You were great.”
“Thank you.”
He scratches his head, looking almost nervous for a second. “Are you sticking around a while?”
“I wasn’t planning on it,” Tasha said. “But I can if you want me to. Do you need me to do another song or something?”
Eddie chuckles. “No, uh, it’s just we’ve only got a few more people to go and then I thought maybe you’d want to hang out and chat a bit. We could reminisce about Willow Beach High’s world-renowned drama program.”
Is he asking her out? “If I say yes, will you give me the part?” Tasha jokes.
Eddie’s mouth splits into a grin. “You definitely don’t need to bargain with me to get what you want, Miss Baldwin. It’s already yours.”
Tasha pretends to mull it over, then finally nods and smiles. “Sure. I’ll stick around.”
He presses his palms together. “That’s great. I’ll see you in a sec.”
Tasha goes back into the waiting area and watches as the last few people are called in. Some of them leave smiling, others don’t. Finally, when the room has cleared, Eddie pops his head through the door and ushers her back into the auditorium.
She follows him to the front row of seats, where he plops down with a great sigh. His two colleagues are packing up their bags a couple rows behind them, and Eddie points at them over his shoulder.
“Tasha, this is my brother Damien, the writer. And Helen, our assistant.”
Tasha waves at them both and they wave back. “You were really good,” Damien calls down. She recognizes him as the man who called her into the theater originally. He looks a lot like Eddie, but scrawnier and younger. Tasha wonders how she missed the resemblance before. Then again, she was pretty caught up in her nerves, and then in her performance. Truth be told, she barely remembers any of it.
“Thank you,” she says brightly.
The woman says nothing, but shoves her clipboard into her backpack with a little more force than necessary, shooting a glance toward Eddie. He pays neither his brother or assistant any mind, sinking further into the seat as he pats the one next to him.
“Come, sit.”
Tasha slides down next to him. “Why do you look so grim?” she asks.
Eddie chuckles. “I’m a little worried about the Willow Beach talent pool if I’m being honest. It’s turning out to be more of a talent puddle.”
Tasha cocks a brow. “Gee, thanks.”
“Don’t be like that,” Eddie says, mouth curving into a cheeky smile. “Better to reign in the mud puddle than serve in the pool, or however Milton phrased it.”
Tasha laughs. “I can’t tell if that’s you saying you liked my audition or if that’s you saying I stank.”
“You were sensational,” he says. “It’s some of the others I worry about.”
“They just need a good director.” Tasha twists in her seat to face him, admiring his aquiline nose and sharp features. “You never know; you could have a few diamonds in the rough. The important thing is taking that raw talent and shaping it into something special. Not even Meryl Streep started off being as good as Meryl Streep.”
Eddie nods thoughtfully. “You’re right, of course. I hadn’t thought about it that way.” He sighs, chuckling. “I often find myself trapped in my own head. It’s good to have some wise words here and there.”
Tasha salutes playfully. “Happy to be of service.”
It feels good to give advice and actually be listened to. Tasha can’t even remember all the times she tried to tell Chuck something and he dismissed her, or just straight up didn’t listen.
“So. Meryl Streep, huh?” Eddie says. “Is she your muse?”
“I’ve got this weird admiration for actresses with stern faces,” Tasha admits. “Katherine Hepburn, Meryl Streep, Sigourney Weaver … I think it’s something about how they always look so dignified and poised, and can toss a toxic, man-killing look with just their eyes. I don’t think I could ever pull that off.” She pokes her cheeks. “I’m too round in the face. I always look happy, even when I’m frowning.”
“I think there’s something to be said for always looking happy,” Eddie replies. “I, for one, think the world has enough sour faces and not enough happy ones. And I must say I’m quite fond of yours.”
Eddie’s gazes at her so deeply that Tasha’s cheeks warm and she glances down. When Eddie looks at her, it feels as though he’s really seeing her. It’s a novel sensation. Tasha feels as though she’s been stripped bare.
They hang around and chat for another hour, exchanging ideas for the show and talking about their respective careers. Tasha is surprised by how receptive Eddie is to her suggestions, even though she has never even seen the
script. They even get up on the stage, where he bounces a couple staging ideas off her.
Eventually, Eddie checks his watch and realizes he needs to head home. “I’m having dinner at my mom’s tonight,” he explains. “Can I give you a ride home though?”
Tasha nods. “That would be great, thank you. I’m staying at the Willow Beach Inn.”
“Of course,” Eddie says as they walk outside. “I knew the Baldwins owned the inn. I can’t believe it took me until now to put two and two together.”
Tasha nearly tells him about their recent family drama, but decides that can wait for another day. She has enjoyed having a nice, light conversation with Eddie and doesn’t want to spoil it just yet.
“What was it like growing up in an inn?” Eddie asks, getting into the car.
Tasha gets in, too, eyeing the back seat full of papers and what look like props. It looks like Eddie is the typical creative type—disorganized. She thinks it’s cute.
“I didn’t really grow up there,” she reveals. “We moved in when I was thirteen or so. It was a bit of an adjustment coming from a regular house to one that was always filled with strangers. It was fun, though.”
“Yeah, your parents always have a big barbecue for Memorial Day, don’t they?” He glances over at her. “I’m surprised our paths haven’t crossed before. My family has been to a couple of those.”
“Maybe they have and we just can’t remember,” Tasha suggests.
“Nuh-uh.” Eddie shakes his head definitively. “I would definitely remember you.”
Tasha’s heart thumps and all she can do is giggle. Eddie’s flirtations are utterly disarming. He will be perfectly serious one moment and throw her a curveball the next. It’s everything Tasha can do not to melt into a puddle on the floor when he does.
It’s a short drive to the inn and Tasha wishes there was some way to make it longer. Unfortunately, there isn’t, and soon enough, Eddie pulls into the drive and chucks the car into park.