by LM Spangler
To Live and Love
by
LM Spangler
To Live and Love
Copyright © 2018, LM Spangler
ISBN: 9781949300116
Publisher: Beachwalk Press, Inc.
Electronic Publication: September 2018
Editor: Pamela Tyner
Cover: Fantasia Frog Designs
eBooks are not transferable. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations in articles and reviews.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Back Cover Copy
Can he show her the world like she’s never seen it before?
Melanie “Mel” Caldwell has everything she could want, except for one thing—a life outside her house. An incident that occurred when she was four years old left her an agoraphobic—a prisoner within the sanctuary of her home. Besides her sister, she finds companionship in the form of handsome delivery man Justin Eberley.
The woman of Justin’s dreams won’t even leave her house, but that does little to tamper his feelings toward her. He finds himself wanting to deliver more and more packages to her house and help her break down the walls she’s built around herself. When she invites him over for a home-cooked meal, he jumps at the opportunity to spend more time with her, although he’s fully aware that any relationship between them will come with its own unique set of challenges.
One night will change both of their lives. Will they find love in the first blooms of spring, or will they let their love slip away?
Content Warning: contains some strong language and consummated sex scenes
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank a group of ladies who’ve made my writing journey much more enjoyable—Kathy Ferri, Sharil Miller, Zee Monodee, Lacee Hightower, Dania Voss, Alexa Wayne, and Laura M. Baird.
Thank you to Pamela Tyner and the awesome staff at Beachwalk Press.
You all rock!
Prologue
Mel’s Past
New York City
Fat tears slid down Mel’s cheeks. The four-year-old searched frantically for her family on the bustling sidewalk, but she couldn’t find them.
“Mommy? Daddy? Mindy?” She called their names again and again.
No answer.
People bumped and jostled Mel about, some with enough force to spin her small frame around. Mel shouted again, spinning in a circle, her eyes darting in one direction, then another, but to no avail. Only a few moments ago giddiness and awe made her jump happily from one foot to the other. Now, heart pounding terror thundered in her chest.
Midsummer blanketed the city in its sweltering grip, which made her t-shirt stick to her sweat-slicked back. The heat did nothing to stop the shivers of fear. She had no idea what to do.
Mel crumpled to the ground in the fetal position. Her senses were overloaded by the engulfing sights and sounds. Skyscrapers towered above. The glass-clad buildings reflected the blinding afternoon sun. She lifted a small hand to shield her eyes from the glare. Car horns blared as aggressive drivers packed the busy streets. The sounds mingled with her body-racking sobs. She wheezed and gasped with each passing breath.
Mel’s chest tightened and made deep inhalations increasingly difficult. She had never been so scared in her whole life. Her lungs burned as they tried to obtain much needed oxygen. Light-headedness fogged Mel’s mind, which only added to her strife.
A strangled scream escaped her when a large hand landed on her shoulder.
“Are you lost?” asked a man with a deep voice.
Through tear-blurred eyes, she recognized the man as a police officer. Her mom’s words echoed through her chaotic mind. You can always trust a policeman.
Mel tried to speak, but the only noise that escaped sounded like a hiccup. She nodded vigorously, sending sunny-blonde tresses haphazardly around her face.
“What’s your name, little one?” the officer asked. He knelt down to her level.
Mel rose to her knees. Her voice failed again and only squeaks escaped.
The officer reached inside his breast pocket and withdrew a small notebook and pen. “I know you’re upset, but can you write your name down for me?” He handed her the pad.
Mel took the notepad and sloppily wrote her name. Two large teardrops fell and landed on the paper, blurring her writing.
The policeman grasped the pad. “Your name is Mel Caldwell?”
She nodded.
“I’m Officer Davison. How old are you?”
Mel held up four fingers.
“Okay. What are your mother and father’s names?” He handed her the notepad again.
Mel wrote down their names and showed the officer. Fear still choked her voice in its iron grip.
“So your dad’s name is Jed and your mom’s is Jolene?”
She nodded again.
“Are you from New York?”
Mel shook her head.
“You’re from out of town. I want you to stand right here. I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to call out for your parents. I’m sure they’re worried sick about you.”
The officer stood and began shouting. Mel thought he looked like a giant.
Through the cacophony of noises, Mel heard her name yelled.
She immediately recognized her mother and father’s voices.
“Over here,” Officer Davison yelled.
Heavy footfalls pounded the sidewalk, and then strong arms surrounded Mel as her mom and dad hugged her close, murmuring their apologies for leaving her alone in the big city.
The Caldwells never did get to enjoy their New York City vacation. Mel refused to leave their hotel room. Her family pled, and begged her forgiveness, but their pleas fell on deaf ears.
* * * *
Six months later Mel and her parents sat in their living room in East Wenatchee, Washington with the fourth psychiatrist they’d seen.
Mel stared blankly at the man with a full, thick beard that reminded her of Santa Claus. His round stomach stuck out like the jolly old elf’s.
Her mother and father were chatting with Doctor Tripp. Mel may not have understood their fancy talk, but she knew by their glances that they were talking about her. She fidgeted on the couch, unable to keep still.
“Mel, would you please stop moving?” her mom asked.
“Sorry.” She sat on her hands and tried to sit still.
“I’m afraid your daughter is suffering from agoraphobia,” Doctor Tripp told Mel’s parents.
Agora-what? Mel’s mind tried to figure out what the big word meant, but it simply didn’t make sense. She couldn’t help but giggle at the sound of the humorous word. “That sounds funny.”
Doctor Tripp looked at her with pity-filled eyes. “It may sound funny, but it’s no laughing matter, young lady.”
Mel shrank back on the couch. She wasn’t so comfortable now. He gave her the you-did-something-wrong look.
“Are you sure, Doctor?” her mom asked with a hitch in her voice. She had cried when the last three physicians visited.
“Unfortunately, yes,” he replied.
“So how do we treat it?” her dad asked.
“Depends on who you ask. Some psychiatrists take the approach of subjecting the patient to whatever it is they fear. For example, if Mel is afraid of crowds, then you take her into a crowded mall. Other doctors recommend keeping the child indoors, away from what they fear,” Doctor Tripp answered.
“What’s your approach?” her father asked.
“I would recommend giving her anti-anxiety medication and then attempt
ing to take her to a shopping mall full of people. See how she reacts. If the pills work, then she should handle the situation with little fuss.”
“I hear a but coming,” her mother stated.
“She could react just the opposite, which would mean a major meltdown in a public place. There’s no way to know until you try.”
Her father snorted. “We’ve tried taking her out of the house. Mel was so scared she literally grabbed onto the doorjamb and wouldn’t let go. We can’t allow her to feel that fear every time we try to leave our home.”
Mel glanced from her parents to the doctor and back to her parents. They all looked so serious. She couldn’t comprehend why they were acting that way.
“In that case, I would recommend keeping her inside. I know children who have been homeschooled and did quite well academically. Mel has an older sister who will, for the time being, be enough to make her feel accepted and offer friendship. I’m not going to lie and say this will be easy. It won’t be, but it is survivable,” Doctor Tripp stated before he rose from the easy chair across from the couch. “I’ll leave you to talk about your daughter’s diagnosis. If you choose to medicate her, call my office and I’ll write a prescription for chewable tablets. They will make Mel drowsy, so she’ll probably need a nap every day until her body gets used to it.”
“Thank you,” her father said as he offered his hand, which the doctor shook.
“You’re welcome. Let me know what you decide.”
“Will do. I’ll show you out,” her mom responded.
When they left, Mel’s dad looked down at her and shook his head. “What are we going to do with you, pipsqueak?”
She stared up at her father, unable to understand why he would ask a question like that. As far as she knew she hadn’t done anything wrong, except the last few times they tried to take her out of the house when she yelled and screamed at the top of her lungs and fought like a wildcat. Other than that, Mel had been a perfect angel.
“What did I do?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Nothing you tried to do, sweetheart. Why don’t you go upstairs and play with your dolls?”
“Okay, Daddy.” Mel bounded toward the stairs, but she stopped at the bottom because her mom had walked back into the living room. Not wanting to be spotted, Mel quickly ran up the stairs but waited a moment at the top. Her mother had started to cry again.
“That’s four doctors who diagnosed the same problem. How could we have done this to her, Jed?” her mother asked, and then sobbed.
Mel shrugged off her mom’s reaction because she didn’t understand. She felt perfectly fine. Why would her mom be crying?
Little did she know that this had only been the beginning of her medically-induced prison sentence.
* * * *
Justin’s Past
Five Years Ago
“So who’s our last drop off, Sam?” Justin Eberley asked.
“What’s the address?”
“Um… 1512 Honey Wood Lane,” he replied after a quick glance at the hand-held navigation system.
“Ah. That’s Melanie Caldwell’s place. She’s as nice as they come.”
Justin glanced at the kindly, old man who he’d be taking over for at the end of the week. Lines deeply etched the weathered face, and his head was capped by thinning, silver hair. He easily had to be seventy if not older. Sam Doniger worked hard and deserved retirement.
“Is she single?” Justin asked.
Sam made a tsking sound. “You’ve asked that about every female we’ve made a delivery to, but yes, she is single. She’s a stunning woman, but one you’ll want to steer clear of.”
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
“She’s not well.”
“What do you mean? Does she have cancer or something?”
“No. Agoraphobia.”
“Agora-what? Can you say that in plain English?”
Sam laughed. “She fears leaving her home. Mel hasn’t been out of the house in many, many years. You’ll be delivering a lot of packages to her as I believe she shops exclusively online.”
“Really? I can’t imagine never leaving my house. How does one survive a life like that?” Justin removed his hat and rubbed a hand over his buzz cut hair. “It shouldn’t be humanly possible.”
“Trust me, it is. She’s a remarkable woman though considering. Mel is lively and quick to laugh or smile. You wouldn’t think she was afflicted with such a serious problem. Just don’t ask Mel to leave her front porch, because it’ll never happen.”
Justin shook his head sadly, completely unable to fathom how anyone could live like that. Sure, he hung around his apartment a lot, but he also went out for drinks with his buddies whenever the opportunity arose, went to work every day, and lived his life. He couldn’t imagine what this woman did as living.
“Buck up, Eberley. She’s a good woman. You’ll like her,” Sam said.
“Sure I will.” Justin didn’t bother to hide the sarcasm in his voice. How could he like a woman who was too afraid of the outside world to even leave her house? In his opinion, that was the cowardly way to do things.
Sam’s deep laughter boomed around the delivery truck. “You’d be surprised. That’s all I’m going to say.”
“Ooookaaay,” Justin replied skeptically. Seeing is believing.
Five minutes later Justin believed it. Before him, standing at her front door, was a stunningly beautiful woman. Though short in stature, she had the most seductive curves. And that was just the body. Mel’s face was that of an angel. Smooth, creamy skin beckoned to be stroked by a loving fingertip. Full lips bid to be kissed. Beguiling green eyes lured him into their liquid depths. She was the complete package.
“Hi, Sam,” Mel said in a voice so seductive it rivaled that of a siren who lured sailors to an untimely end. “Is this your replacement?”
Mel smiled and Justin’s knees weakened. It took a Herculean effort for them to support his weight.
“Yes, it is. Mel, this is Justin Eberley,” Sam said.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She offered her hand.
Justin took the much smaller hand in his. “The pleasure’s all mine, ma’am.”
“Please, call me Mel. Would you care to step in for a drink?”
“Don’t have time. Need to get the truck back to the distribution center so I can show the rookie how we close out the day,” Sam said as he handed Mel her package.
She accepted the parcel and laid it on the floor. “Thanks, Sam. I’m going to miss you, you old coot.”
Sam opened his arms. Mel stepped into the embrace, and Justin suddenly wished he were in Sam’s position. He wondered how she would feel in his arms. The woman elicited such a primal response in him.
Sam released her. “I’m going to miss you too. The newbie will take good care of you and your deliveries.”
“I’m sure he will. You guys drive safe.”
“Have a good day, Mel. It was a pleasure to meet you, and I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again,” Justin stated with a friendly tip of his hat.
He and Sam ambled to the truck. When inside, Justin unleashed a whistle. “She is gorgeous.”
Sam’s laughter once again echoed in the small confines of the truck. “Told you.”
“I’m glad that one’s single.”
“If you pursue her, then you have to tread carefully. She’s damaged. Remember, Mel won’t leave the house.”
I bet I can get her to come out of her shell.
Chapter 1
The Present
East Wenatchee, WA
Heavy raindrops plopped on the sill. When she least expected it, Mel found herself back in the past. To the fateful day, twenty-six years ago, that life as she knew it ceased to exist.
She still suffered from agoraphobia.
The thought of wide-open places or a crowded mall sent her spiraling into an anxiety attack. Breaths would come at a heightened pace, which usually made her light-headed and dizzy. Each beat of the hea
rt would become more erratic. A feeling like an elephant sitting on her chest would crush her in its imaginary fists. Only medication eased the symptoms.
Mel hadn’t left home in twenty-six years, except when her parents had ripped her from the house, kicking and screaming, as a child. All those years ago they tried to cure Mel’s ills with a bevy of psychiatrists and psychologists with no success.
Now she lived alone, never leaving her sanctuary.
She worked from home, proofreading court documents prior to their submission by various attorneys. Those attorneys appeared to be so much smarter than they actually were thanks to her.
Mel glanced below the window to the table and the picture of her family. She picked up the photo and reverently traced the frame with her fingertip. Those were happier times. The people in the picture smiled broadly while holding gifts from a Christmas past. Her parents had since passed away in an auto accident, which still sliced at her heart, the feeling raw and harsh. On a brighter note, her sister had met the man of her dreams, moved across the river, and married.
The thought of the man of her dreams made Mel wonder if she’d receive the package today. Rain lashed the window. Mel placed her hands on the pane, ignoring the smudges that would mar the window’s clearness, and allowed the feeling of coolness to seep into her skin. A downpour of this magnitude was a rare commodity, but today’s showers were an onslaught. How she hoped Justin would be able to deliver the package before her doctor’s appointment. Truth be told, she wasn’t even sure what was to be delivered, only that Justin would drop it off.
Mel leaned close to the window, exhaled a warm breath, and watched the pane fog over. She fought the childish urge to draw a heart and put her and Justin’s initials inside the shape. Instead, she thought of how he would get soaked in the deluge.
A small pang of guilt flooded Mel. Warmth and comfort surrounded her. But didn’t it always? She wouldn’t even step foot on the front porch unless absolutely necessary, which was hardly ever. Sure, she’d open the door for deliveries, her sister Melinda, or Mindy as she liked to be called, and her psychiatrist, Dr. Sergei Stamko. Other than a few select visitors, she kept herself locked away.