Through The Window

by Wendy Campbell

  “Keep this crap to yourself,” Alex said. “I mean it. I don’t want you to get hurt just because your brain’s been scrambled. Forget about it, okay?”

  “Alex, I—”

  “Promise. Now, before I have to leave.” He looked scared for her, and it tore at her heart. “Please?”

  “Okay. I promise.”

  “Good.” Alex smiled and opened the ancient fridge. “Where’s the food? All I see is a box of baking soda. You should have thought ahead and asked Ralph to stock the fridge.”

  “You’re right. This will do for now.” She lifted the coffee to take a sip. Something wobbled inside the cup.

  “What’s this?” Using a spoon, she lifted out a rubber finger, complete with fake blood. “Yuk, Alex!”

  He laughed so hard she thought he’d choke, but he made her laugh, too. She tossed the finger in the sink and took a sip.

  “Haven’t you outgrown the practical jokes?”

  “Never. They’re wired into my DNA.”

  A car horn sounded. “I gotta go, or I’ll be late for my first class.” He took a key from his pocket and tossed it to her. “You can borrow my car, and you’re supposed to be at Sara’s on Saturday.”

  “What for?”

  “If I tell you I’d have to kill you. Just be there by five.”

  “Okay. Does she know I’m back?”

  “Of course. She’d wring my neck if I didn’t tell her. Later.” The front door closed behind him.

  At that moment, she realized what she’d missed when she lived in Denver. Not once had a friend come by before nine. No one played silly pranks and brought her coffee. The little things, like a morning visit, suddenly seemed so important.

  After she made use of the bathroom supplies Anna gave her, she put on the sweatshirt. It hung to mid-thigh and helped tone down her purple pants. The gigantic flip-flops made her feel ridiculous, but they were all she had.

  With Alex’s key in her hand, she headed outside. The door wouldn’t lock, but it didn’t matter. There wasn’t anything worth stealing.

  She groaned when she saw Alex’s car. It looked like a rejected tank, twice as long as her Toyota and wide enough to fit four people on each bench seat. The gray paint matched the morning clouds. Patches of primer covered a dozen dents on the hood and made the car look diseased. She might as well have a neon sign above her head flashing “LOOK AT ME.” So much for respectability, but the car started, and she didn’t want to walk to her new office.

  425 Westland Avenue was deserted. She parked in the small lot. When she turned the key to shut off the car, it rumbled in protest and let out a vicious backfire. She got out, resisting the urge to slam the door because it’d probably fall off.

  The construction sign stuck out of the mud where the lawn would be. Manufacturer stickers decorated the windows, and wet drywall scraps were heaped on the dirt. She walked through the drizzle and mud to the makeshift stairs. A glob of mud oozed over the edge of the gray flip-flop. She shook it off before it reached her toes.

  The front door was open and a Rascal Flats country song spilled from a portable radio in the corner. A cup of coffee sat on a sheet of plywood supported by sawhorses in the neutral, cream-colored lobby. The light fixtures were in and she could see the picture of a reception desk on one of the boxes stacked in the corner.

  “Hello,” she called.

  A loud bang came from the hall. “I don’t want coffee,” a male voice snarled. “And I don’t want a donut. For the last time, I don’t know who the hell is doing the hiring. Now leave me alone.”

  Such blunt rudeness would have made the old Mel hesitate, but not the new, professional Mel, despite her purple pants and flip-flops. “I already had coffee,” she yelled. “I can always use a donut, and I’m doing the hiring.”

  Footsteps pounded on the bare wood. “Who the hell—” A scruffy, bearded man with familiar eyes came into the lobby. “Who are you?”

  “Melanie Quinn, Operations Manager for Schuster, Inc.” She stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Randal Forester.” He shook her hand. “Your name’s Quinn? Any relation to the Cedar Valley Quinns?”

  “Of course. How’s the job going?” She glanced around, envisioning Schuster’s black and silver logo on the door, people walking in, asking for the Human Resources consulting services they were providing, temporary employees leaving for their assignments at the local businesses.

  “It’s going. You’re doing the hiring, eh?” The man leaned against a box.

  “Yes, I am. When can I get started?”

  “Carpet’s on backorder. The landscape crew’s on strike, and Dan’s boy, the one doing the ladder work, broke his leg yesterday. The backup crew can’t start until tomorrow.”

  “We’re supposed to be in on Monday.”

  “Don’t have the occupancy permit yet.”

  “When will we get it?”

  He shrugged. “When it gets here, I suppose.”

  “Can we move in without it?”

  “That’s up to you, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

  “Okay. We’ll figure it out. Can I look around?”

  He didn’t answer, just studied her. “Hey, aren’t you the little Quinn girl? The one who—”

  “I am the youngest Quinn woman. I’m also the Operations Manager for Schuster, Inc., the company currently signing your paycheck. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I want to look around.”

  Her unease fell away at her fascination with the single story building. She wandered through the six offices, wondering which one would be hers. They weren’t finished, but if she could get one ready, just one, she could start replacing the files.

  When she’d seen the entire building, she gave Randall a wave and headed outside. The building sat next to a park that gave her a sense of privacy. She used the cell phone Anna loaned her to call the Denver office. Being a project assistant at Schuster for five years had taught her how to bypass the majority of the red tape, and she managed to talk the acquisitions clerk into expediting the computers. She needed the connection to the Denver server for the data.

  Next she called King County Planning and Land Services to get copies of the permits. She also left a message for her boss, Steven Greene, who was out of town. With luck, she’d get a good start on recreating the data she’d lost before Steven got her message. Then he wouldn’t have a reason to fire her. The Snake Charmer would arrive on Monday, which gave her the entire weekend to work.

  Chapter Four

  Jordan drove through town, knowing his mother would be looking out the window, wondering where he was. When he agreed to give his parents a lift to the airport, she asked him to pick them up at 9:00. It was 9:10, and he grinned. They didn’t need to be on the road until 9:30, but she wanted time to pry into his life. She wasn’t above taking advantage of a captive audience, and he didn’t want to answer questions about who he was, or wasn’t, dating.

  Besides, it’d only take a minute to cruise down Westland and check out the new building, see if Melanie Quinn was there. A glimpse was all he needed to prove to himself that his lust was a result of temporary insanity. Then he could put her out of his mind.

  Two cars were in the parking lot at the office building, but no one was in sight. It’d be too obvious if he knocked on the closed door, so he resigned himself to wait for another day and drove past. Then he saw her in the park, standing near a tree, talking on a cell phone. He parked his truck across the street, but she started walking away from him, gesturing as she moved. How could he get over this insanity if he couldn’t even see her face?

  A quick glance at his watch told him he had about two minutes until he really would be late. He got out and crossed the street.

  The rise and fall of her voice drifted through the crisp morning air. As she walked, her feet went comically high in the air and her sweatshirt hung almost to her knees. He wasn’t much on fashion statements, but even by his standard she was dressed weird.

  When she closed her
phone, he headed toward her, his long steps covering the ground. She whirled and froze with a deer-in-the-headlights look. He stopped, and they stared at each other with twenty feet of mowed grass between them.

  Then he felt the increase in his heart rate, the stirring in his groin and the tingle that signaled attraction. Shit. This insanity wasn’t temporary after all. His breathing quickened as she carefully walked toward him, and he put his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t reach out and grab her.

  “Um, I owe you an apology,” she said in a soft, hesitant voice. “For last night, I mean. It was stupid, going back to the car like that. It’s just…I’m sorry.”

  “At least you didn’t get hurt.”

  “I was lucky you were there.” She looked down, and he followed her gaze to her feet. She wore a big pair of flip-flops.

  “Nice shoes.” He grinned.

  “I lost my shoes. Anna gave me these. Anyway, thanks. For saving me, I mean.”

  “Sure.” They stood there as a charged silence fell around them. His blood went south, and though his mind wasn’t clear about what was happening, his body was. His growing attraction pressed against his jeans, and he shifted to hide it from her. Then he kept right on shifting until he could reach her. He ran a finger down her cheek, just to see how she felt.

  Like fire, all hot and soft. Lust shot clean to his bones. She jumped back, her eyes wide with shock, like he’d taken a swing at her.

  “Sorry,” he whispered. “I wasn’t thinking.” Desire and despair flooded through him in waves. He was falling for the nut case, the crazy woman with the bad reputation. Dear God, he wanted her like he’d never wanted any woman. He had to get away, before he did something really stupid like kiss her, or push her down in the grass and…

  “It won’t happen again,” he said, and he’d make sure it didn’t. He turned and walked quickly to his truck.

  Five minutes later, barely composed, he arrived at his parents’ house. Their luggage sat on the porch, and they came out as he parked.

  “Jordan, honey,” his mom said. “You’re late. I was getting worried you might not make it.”

  He gave her a kiss on the cheek. “We had a morning call that took a while. Ready to go?”

  “Absolutely.” She patted his arm.

  Once the suitcases were in the open bed of the truck, they climbed in. Comfortable small talk filled the cab until they reached SeaTac Airport.

  “Here’s our itinerary.” His mother handed him a thick brown envelope. “And the number to the hotel and the cell phone your father bought.”

  “Come on, Lillian,” his father said. “We don’t want to miss our plane.”

  “I’m coming.” She put her hands on Jordan’s cheeks. “Promise you’ll be careful while we’re gone. If they call for response teams for some big fire or disaster, I don’t want you to go. Understand? Not while we’re out of the country. Now Roger—”

  “Mom,” Jordan said as he took her hands. “I’ll be fine. Roger will be fine. Have a good time and don’t worry.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t worry about my boys? Promise you’ll be careful.”

  “I’m always careful.”

  She gave him her “don’t mess with me” stare. “Really? I saw you on the ladder last month when your team did that practice burn. You weren’t even holding on!”

  Jordan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I wore a harness that was connected to the ladder.”

  “Be careful. Please?”

  Jordan’s irritation vanished when he looked deep into her eyes. This was his fault. He should have kept his mouth shut when he got back from California. He never should have told her the truth about why he became a firefighter.

  “I’ll be careful,” Jordan said to ease her worries. “I’m not doing this job for them, not anymore. I’m doing it for me. Now go to Europe with Dad and have a good time.”

  “Okay.” She patted his hand and got out. “Don’t forget to water my plants,” she yelled as they disappeared into the crowd.

  Jordan let out a sigh of relief and headed for home. He’d better make a note, or he’d forget about the plants.

  ****

  Sunlight peeked through gaps in the gray cloud cover. Melanie wished it could penetrate the fog in her brain that had been dogging her since Jordan’s touch. It was over so fast, and he was heading for his truck before she even realized what happened. His fingers had been so light—maybe her over-active imagination made more of it than he’d intended.

  Forcing Jordan from her mind, she took stock of where she was, Washington in June. These glimpses of sun hinted at the summer to come, and she’d be here for all of it. Despite the chill, she rolled down the window to get the fresh scent that followed the rain and to clear her head.

  Restraining her impatience to see Sara, she paused by the front door of Last Chance. The lodge-look exterior harmonized with the Valley, and the surrounding tree-covered hills in a way she hadn’t noticed last night. The store belonged in Cedar Valley, just like she did. She went inside and heard a series of mellow notes from a beautiful wood chime hanging on the back of the door.

  “Great surprise, Mel.” Sara stood behind the counter, her face hard. The wall of knotty pine behind her warmed the room, highlighting her Meg Ryan cuteness and bouncy ponytail, both an odd contrast to her dark, frosty eyes. “You could have told me you were coming. Did you bring Carl with you?”

  Mel stood just inside the door, unable to move. “Carl?”

  “My husband.”

  “I know who he is. What’s going on?” Her feet unfroze and she walked toward Sara.

  “Good try.” Sara frowned as she walked around the counter, a solid piece of cedar polished so well it glowed. “I’m betting that bandage on your arm hasn’t been changed today.”

  Mel shook her head, trying to clear it. “The firefighters put it on last night. Sara, we need to talk, but first I have to say you’ve created a masterpiece. This place is amazing.”

  “With no help from you.”

  Where was her sister, the sweet, wonderful woman with the upbeat sense of humor? “I wish I could have helped.” It wasn’t the first time she’d apologized.

  “If you did, you would have been here.”

  “You know I couldn’t come back.”

  “So why now? Did Carl dump you too?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Sara stared at her in cold silence until the door opened and three older women wearing visors and polyester shorts came in. They asked a few questions, and Sara led them past the steps to the loft, where Mel could see glimpses of more merchandise waiting for adventure. They stopped at a cheery display of children’s clothing. When they started to browse, Sara came back to the counter and gave Mel a long look.

  “When did he leave?” Mel asked.

  “Three weeks ago. I thought he was with you.” Beneath the bravado, Mel glimpsed a world of pain.

  “Why?”

  “That’s where he said he was going.”

  “Sara, I never heard from him. I didn’t know you two were having problems. What happened?”

  Sara sank onto a stool. When she lifted her head, tears flooded her eyes. “He said he didn’t love me anymore. He wanted someone fun, someone who has tits and likes showing them off. Like you.”

  “Once, Sara. I did that once, and I don’t even remember it.”

  The tears trickled down Sara’s cheeks. “I guess once is enough.”

  Mel closed her eyes and swore. To celebrate her eighteenth birthday and her escape from Mick and Cedar Valley, she’d talked Sara into meeting her in Hawaii. Sara left her daughter with Mom and brought Carl. They had a great time, until the hike. Two hours down the trail, they circled a rocky ridge and found a nude beach. After a heated argument, which Carl won, they agreed to stay long enough to eat lunch. He’d packed two thermoses of margaritas and no water. Before Mel realized it, she was drunk and had only a vague memory of sun and
waves. When she woke up the next day with a colossal hangover, she couldn’t find her bikini top. Sara refused to talk about it, and Mel never got drunk again.

  “That’s not all.” Sara grabbed a tissue from a box next to the register and blew her nose. “He said I was a dud, said I acted more like his mother than his wife. He fell in love with the way I used to be. I think he’s in love with you.”

  “No, he’s not! I don’t even like him.”

  “Did you…sleep with him…or something?”

  “Of course not!”

  Sara cried even harder. “I’m sorry. It’s just that he said... Never mind. I don’t know what to do. He left me with the store, the kids, and the bills. I can’t even find him.”

  “Then you’re better off without him.”

  The three women headed toward them, their baskets full of merchandise. Sara was still trying to control her sobs so Mel steered her to one of the cute café tables on the left side of the front door and told her to stay put while she rang up the customers.

  “How are you ladies today?” Mel asked as they piled their items on the counter. Since she’d worked part-time in a gift shop in Colorado, she knew how to ring up a sale, except Sara had a computer, not a cash register.

  “Give me a minute,” she said with her best bluffing smile. “The computer is just coming online.”

  “I hate those things,” one of the women sympathized.

  Another walked over to Sara and patted her back. “Men aren’t worth the hassle, dear.”

  Sara only cried harder.

  Mel found the screen to enter a sale and called the woman over. She ran their credit cards and bagged their purchases while they shot sympathetic glances at Sara.

  “Come back and see us again.” Mel ushered them out the door then made Sara a cup of chamomile tea from the supplies on the back counter.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked, taking the seat across from Sara.

  “Raise my kids. Survive.” Sara snatched a daisy out of the vase in the middle of the table. One by one, she ripped off the petals.

  “I’ll help.” When Sara gave her a skeptical look, Mel sighed. “Carl’s an ass. He’s always been an ass. Since the trip to Hawaii, he’s tried to get in my pants twice. That’s why I wouldn’t let him stay at my place last year when he came to Denver.”