by Gerri Hill
“You know, Stella hasn’t been around this week,” Erin said, breaking the silence.
“No, she hasn’t. But the potluck dinner is tomorrow.” She paused. “Do you want to go with me?”
Erin looked over at her, eyebrows raised. “Do guests usually go to them?”
“No.” Then she shrugged. “Only the ladies—the tribe, as Stella likes to call us. But you’re not a normal guest. I don’t think she or anyone else would mind. In fact, they’d probably love for you to come.”
Erin paused, her head tilted thoughtfully. “Do you want me to go?”
Their eyes met and Melanie nodded. “Yes,” she said simply.
“Okay. I’ll go.” Erin cast out again, then turned to her. “Are you bored sitting over there while I fish?”
Melanie shook her head. “No. Just watching you.”
Erin wiggled her eyebrows teasingly. “And just what is it that you’re watching?”
Melanie laughed, letting her gaze drop to Erin’s hips, her legs, then back up again. Erin had turned her attention back to the water, but there was a satisfied smile on her face.
* * *
Erin eyed the last piece of fish, then looked up at Melanie who was smiling at her.
“Take it already.”
“Are you sure?” She’d only caught three, not the four she was hoping for. “We can share.”
“No, take it. I’m full.”
Erin snatched it up with a grin. “I’m going to get fat living with you. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve gained weight.”
“I have noticed. You look good.”
Erin flicked her eyes up. “You think so?”
“Yes. Nice. Healthy. You were rail thin, Erin. Frail, almost.”
“Frail? That’s a word I wouldn’t have ever used to describe me.” She looked at Mel thoughtfully. “Mentally, at least. I suppose physically…Yeah, in the last year or so, I had become—geez—frail. How sad is that?”
“Loss, pain. It does things to us,” Melanie said, her voice quiet. “Without us really even knowing it.” She looked up at her then. “Until it’s too late.”
Erin met her gaze, noting that the blue eyes were still a bit shadowed this evening. “Are you sorry you told me your story?”
Mel looked away, staring off behind her. “I…I’m not sure, really. I haven’t told anyone, other than my therapist. What compelled me to tell you…I don’t know.”
“Sometimes it feels good to say things out loud.”
Melanie shrugged. “These things I feel—think—they’ve been a part of me for so long, I don’t know that saying them out loud has any bearing. It’s not like they’re going to go away.”
“You mean your guilt?”
“Yes. My guilt. It hides sometimes. Sometimes for weeks. And then sometimes it jumps right out at me, waving its hands wildly in front of my face. Reminding me that it’s still there. That it’s not going to go away…no matter how much I wish it would.”
“Why did you tell me?”
Melanie rested her chin in her palm, looking across the table at her. “Honestly, I don’t know. I’ve kept it hidden from everyone out here. You…I felt almost compelled to tell you. I’m not sure why.” She leaned back, crossing her arms against her. “Maybe like you said…It’s good to say things out loud. Get them off your chest.”
Erin nodded. “Temporarily?”
“Yes. And don’t get me wrong, when I think about Adam, I don’t always think about that day. I had known him since I was sixteen. He died on my twenty-sixth birthday, so there were ten years that were mostly good. I felt safe with him. I finally had a family. His parents were so good to me.” She paused. “Until, of course…”
“Did you ever try to reconcile things with them?”
Melanie shook her head. “No. There was nothing to say. He was their only child. In their eyes, I killed him.” She shook her head again. “There was nothing I could have said that would change that.”
No, Erin supposed there wasn’t. But that was ten, eleven years ago. That seemed like an awfully long time to hang on to guilt. Hang on to it tight enough that it still choked you at times. And last night, Melanie had been nearly strangled by it.
Their eyes met across the table, those blue ones looking tired and clouded. Erin much preferred the bright, twinkling ones she’d come to know.
“I can clean up from dinner,” she offered.
“Thank you. If you don’t mind, I’m going to grab a shower and…get to bed early.”
Erin’s eyebrows shot up. There was still a touch of daylight filtering in through the windows. But who was she to comment on it? Those first few days, hadn’t she escaped to her room after dinner too? As Melanie walked past her, she paused, touching her shoulder and squeezing gently.
“I’ll be better tomorrow, Erin. I promise.”
“Okay.”
“And thank you for cleaning up dinner. Thank you for catching dinner.”
She smiled at her as Mel’s hand still lingered on her shoulder. “You’re welcome.”
Melanie’s hand slipped away then, but she turned back around before going into her room. “Feel free to use the TV if you want.”
“Okay.”
But after she’d put away the leftover veggies and washed the dishes, she wasn’t in the mood for TV. Instead, she opened the cabinet and took out a mug. She went about the business of making tea, surprised at how much she’d grown to like it. She took the hot cup outside, but instead of sinking down into one of the rockers, she leaned against the porch railing, her gaze going up to the sky. To the west, there were still the remnants of the sunset streaking across the rocks, hanging on for a few more seconds. To the east, it was already dark. The moon was climbing higher, hiding behind drifting clouds. Stars were starting to show themselves and her eyes moved over them absently, her thoughts still on Melanie…and those guilt-ridden blue eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Oh, so there’s Fred. I was beginning to worry.”
Melanie smiled at Erin. “You were beginning to worry?” She patted the old dog’s head. “I told you, he makes the rounds.”
“How old is he?”
“Old. Fifteen or more, I think. He disappeared last winter and no one had seen him for ten days or so. We thought he’d gone off to die. Then he showed back up one day at Vivian’s place. A little thin but no worse for wear.” She sighed. “I don’t imagine he’ll make it much longer, though. He hardly eats a thing anymore.”
She walked on up the steps, but Erin stopped her with a hand on her arm before they went into Stella’s house. Melanie looked at her questioningly.
“What should I say to Rachel?”
Melanie smiled at her. “Rachel is not going to corner you and demand an explanation for you running out on her.”
“But—I feel bad. I mean, I was rude to her. Very rude.”
“Then she was probably glad to be rid of you,” she teased. “Come on. Be your usual charming self. They’ll love you.”
Erin arched an eyebrow. “Am I charming?”
Melanie paused, wondering at her choice of words. Did she find Erin charming? Yes. This morning, for instance, she’d been completely charmed as she’d spied Erin petting and talking to the twins when she’d gone out to open their stall. Melanie had stood at the kitchen window, breakfast forgotten, as she watched her. Before coming back inside, Erin had paused to watch the hummingbird feeder, then she’d looked toward the bluff where the sun had risen, a smile on her face as she came back inside.
Melanie looked at her now, meeting Erin’s teasing eyes. “Yes, you’re charming. And nice. Had you asked me that the first week, though…”
Erin held her hand up. “I know, I know. I was insufferable.” Again, a teasing smile. “How can I make it up to you?”
“Breakfast in bed,” she said without thinking. “I didn’t mean that,” she said as she swatted playfully at Erin’s arm. She knew she was blushing, but she couldn’t seem to stop it. “I mea
n—it would be nice to be served breakfast in bed…just once.”
Erin was grinning as she held the door open for her. “Just once, huh?”
Melanie stopped. “If you served me breakfast in bed, that means you’d also have to tend to the chickens and goats, seeing as I’d still be under the covers.”
“I tend to them some mornings as it is, but I don’t think you could stand it. You’d be missing your coffee time on the porch at dawn.”
“True.”
“How about a massage?”
“A massage?” Melanie repeated, blinking at her stupidly.
“I give great massages.”
“You do?”
“Uh-huh.” Their eyes met again and Erin gave her a quick wink. “It’s been a while though. I may be out of practice. It may take me an hour or so to get back in the swing.”
“An hour-long massage? God, I’d be useless after that.” She laughed. “When can we do it?”
“Any time you want. It’s a full-body massage, by the way,” Erin said with a saucy grin, then walked inside, quickly being swallowed up by the group of gray-haired ladies as they surrounded her all at once. Melanie shook her head, wondering how in the world they’d gone from charming to breakfast in bed to a full-body massage, of all things.
“Dianne told us she’d cut your hair,” Stella was saying to Erin. “It looks so good on you, dear.” Stella then glanced her way, almost as an afterthought. “You too, Mel.”
Before Melanie could reply, Stella had linked arms with Erin and was leading her away. Melanie took her dish into the kitchen—another squash casserole—and found a spot for it on the table.
“She’s cute,” Angela said as she bumped her arm. “I mean…cute.”
Melanie nodded. “Yes, she is.”
“Is she single?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.”
“Oh, lucky you,” Angela teased. “I wish it had been my turn to host next. We all knew Rachel wouldn’t be able to keep her. I heard she ran the very next morning.” She leaned closer. “Stella said she was in really bad shape, but she looks good to me. Really good.”
“A month…yeah, she’s improved tenfold.” She heard laughter from the living room and went back out, finding Erin crammed on the sofa with four ladies. The look on Erin’s face was a cross between amused and frightened. Erin looked up, finding her watching. Their eyes met and they exchanged a smile—a secret, almost intimate smile. Then Stella walked through their line of sight, breaking the contact.
“Oh, Mel, I must say, the change in Erin is remarkable. Not only the hair—which looks lovely on her—but her whole self,” Stella said, waving her arms dramatically. “You’ve worked wonders on her. She’s like a completely different person.”
“I’m not sure it’s anything I’ve done,” she protested. “She’s eating healthy, she’s getting outside in the sunshine and doing a little exercise. She’s eliminated the stress in her life. She caught up on sleep.” She shrugged. “I had little to do with it.”
“Well, her sister called me again. Two evenings ago, I think it was. I hadn’t seen Erin so I didn’t know what to report, other than—as far as I knew—she hadn’t run away. Dianne tells me that you took her into Silver City for some shopping.”
“Yes, I did. A week or so ago.”
Stella leaned closer. “Did she try something?”
Melanie raised her eyebrows. “Try something? Like sneak off to buy a bus ticket out of town?”
“It’s just that her sister…well, she seems shocked that Erin is still here. In fact, when I spoke with her, she asked me if I was sure she hadn’t left. I very nearly drove out to your place right then and there to check on her.”
“You know I would let you know if anything happened. She’s fine. I would go so far as to say that I think she’s enjoying herself. It is sort of like a vacation for her. Now…after another month of this, she may get bored and be ready to leave, but I think she’ll last the full three months.”
“Maybe you should suggest that she call her sister then. She can use my phone, of course. Maybe that would put her sister’s mind at ease.”
“Okay. I’ll do that.”
Later, however, when she suggested that to Erin, she shook her head.
“I don’t think so, Mel.”
“She’s apparently worried about you.”
“She’s probably feeling guilty that she and my father forced me into this, that’s all.” Erin pointed at the table. “Look at all these dishes. Everything looks great.” She leaned closer. “Which one did Rachel bring?”
Melanie pointed to a pot with a lid on it. “There. Beans.”
“Stay clear,” Erin warned with exaggerated wide eyes. “Lots of squash too. I think I’ll just stick with ours.”
Melanie smiled at her use of “ours” and indeed, Erin had helped prepare the casserole. “Are you sure you don’t want to call?” she persisted.
Erin turned to her. “I feel good. I feel…sort of detached from that life. If I talk to her, I’m going to ask about my projects, then I’ll start worrying about my projects.” She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “I needed this break, obviously. I don’t want to think about my real life anytime soon.” Then she winked at her. “I’m having fun hanging out with you, sneaking off to go fishing and naked swimming. Cleaning up goat shit,” she added with a laugh.
Melanie smiled at her. “Okay, then. I’ll tell Stella. Is there a message you want to pass on should your sister call again?”
“Yeah. Tell her to stop worrying and I’ll see her in September.”
Whatever apprehension Erin may have felt when they’d gotten to the party had apparently disappeared. She wasn’t shy about loading her plate and she chatted with the ladies around her. Stella’s table was used as a buffet and everyone took their food into the living room, finding any available spot to sit. When Valerie would have pulled Erin down beside her, Erin declined.
“Gonna sit with Mel,” she said, moving over to the loveseat with Melanie. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Of course not.” Then she leaned closer. “Although they’ll start to gossip about us.”
Erin nodded. “I know. I was already asked if I was still sleeping in the spare room or not.”
Melanie’s eyes widened. “Oh my God! Who asked that?”
Erin’s gaze moved across the room. “There. In the yellow dress.”
Melanie sighed. “Rebecca. She always questions me, wondering why I’d move out here alone, at my age. The week before you got here, I was at her place, cutting some limbs in her garden, and she said I was too young to live my life alone.” She smiled, remembering the conversation. “She said I’d turn into a bitter old woman if I didn’t find some love soon.” She laughed quietly. “She suggested a mail-order bride.”
Erin laughed. “Guess she’s not familiar with online dating.”
Melanie took a bite of their casserole, pleased with how it turned out. She turned to Erin. “I…I’d actually thought about it.” She smiled. “Online dating. Not the mail-order bride.”
“Why haven’t you?”
She looked around, seeing a few eyes on them. “We can talk later,” she whispered. “How’s the food?”
“I like this meatloaf stuff.”
“I think that’s Angela’s. It’s made with lentils and oats. She’s a good cook. She gave me the lentil meatball recipe.”
“I took some of the other squash, but I like ours best. And these potatoes are sinful,” Erin added as she scooped up a cheesy forkful. “Maybe we should try making these too.”
“We’re trying to cut back on cheese, remember? And if you keep eating like this, we’ll be shopping for new clothes again.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“I’m stuffed.”
“I guess so. You had two pieces of pie and chocolate cake.”
Erin sat down in the rocker, her hands resting on her full belly. “That chocolate cake was really good. I wanted to steal
a piece to bring home.”
“That was Stella’s. She loves to bake.”
“I noticed you didn’t eat any.”
“I’m not big on dessert. Not that kind anyway. When the strawberries are in, I like a pie or cobbler. And we’ll have peaches very soon. I have a recipe for peach ice cream, if you’re interested.”
“Homemade ice cream? Count me in.” She turned to look at her. “So tell me.”
“Tell you what? The recipe?”
Erin smiled. “No. Online dating.”
Mel waved her question away. “Oh, that. Just something I considered a few years ago.” She took a deep breath, then blew it out. “I get lonely sometimes, as I’ve said. And so I thought, maybe I should give it a try.” She waved her hand again. “But no. We’re so remote out here, who would come?” She smiled. “I’m talking normal people. I’m sure someone would come, but I’d at least want them to be sane.”
“So you didn’t try?”
“No. Besides, I’m not sure I could…Well, since Adam, I haven’t been able…Well—”
“You haven’t been with anyone since your affair—when you were twenty-six?”
Melanie nodded. “I mean, I tried…Only I couldn’t actually ever go through with it. My therapist encouraged me to keep trying but…it became humiliating, really.”
“Mel! You’ve been alone all this time? When I hugged you the other night…?”
“Yes. The last time someone hugged me—I guess it was Adam or Courtney. When I was twenty-five, about to turn twenty-six.”
Erin turned in the rocker, facing her. “My God, Mel. You’re—?”
“Thirty-seven.” Melanie stood up quickly. “I’m used to it, Erin. It’s nothing to be concerned about.” She walked off the steps. “I’m going to make sure the chickens are locked up.”
It was an excuse, of course. They’d put the chickens and goats up when they’d come home, right at dusk.
“I get lonely sometimes.”
The thought of Melanie being lonely—so lonely that she’d considered inviting a complete stranger out here to her bed—was heartrending. She’d done the same thing, though, hadn’t she? After Sarah left, after she’d gotten over the shock of it all—six or eight months—hadn’t she fallen into bed with near strangers? Some hung around long enough to lose the stranger tag—like Jessica. Six or eight months—the loneliness had eaten at her. She couldn’t imagine going ten or eleven years without someone.