If You Believe

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If You Believe Page 4

by Mya O'Malley


  “What. Is. It?” Melody enunciated each word.

  “Melody, you have to get on with your life. Do you really think that he would have wanted to see you end up like this, afraid to live?”

  The words were harsh, and Melody was quite sure that her friend had wanted them to come across that way. “What is it with everyone lately? First Oliver, now you!” Melody pulled her wrist away with force and practically ran into the back room.

  Good, she’s busy with customers, Melody assured herself after hearing Cassie chatting up someone at the cash register. Why didn’t they just leave her alone? It wasn’t as if she was sitting there complaining how miserable she was. She was fine, she was. Well, she wouldn’t say that she was happy; content was more like it.

  “Honey. I’m sorry.” Cassie peeked her head around the corner carefully. “I didn’t mean…”

  “Don’t worry about it. Please, just don’t bring it up again.” Melody went through the motions of shuffling papers around her desk, avoiding eye contact.

  “All right if I leave? It’s just past nine.”

  “Yes, please lock the door on your way out.”

  “Don’t be mad?”

  “I’m not mad. See you at home later.”

  The bell sounded a few seconds after Cassie walked back into the store and Melody heard muffled talking. Curiosity caused her to walk out to see who was there. It was Cassie and Oliver, huddled in discussion. The only thing that Melody could make out of the conversation was hearing Cassie state that Melody was in a bad mood. Hmm.

  Standing there with her arms crossed, Melody waited until Cassie left to approach Oliver. “I thought that the two of you didn’t get along.” Melody muttered.

  “I think we’re coming to a bit of an understanding.” Oliver grinned.

  “Great.” Melody sighed.

  “You still mad at me?” Oliver asked cautiously.

  “I’m fine. Like I told Cassie, just don’t talk about that dating stuff anymore.”

  “If you say so. How about we go get some dinner?”

  Melody was pretty sure that she was finished being annoyed with her friend for now, so she nodded and went for her coat and bag. She was hungry and tired; she could use a good dinner out. “Promise?”

  “Scout’s honor.” Her heart broke just a little as she remembered how that was one of Jack’s favorite sayings.

  Chapter Six

  They hadn’t gotten two feet out the door when the man approached them. Oliver could see who it was before Melody recognized him and cursed silently to himself. It was Pete, the man from the bar the evening before. It wasn’t great timing given the fact that Melody had only just forgiven him. Gritting his teeth, Oliver waited for the inevitable confrontation.

  “Melody?” Pete began.

  Melody spun to face Oliver who decided that he would play dumb for now. He was already mentally calculating how he would talk himself out of this situation.

  “It’s me, Pete, from last night.” The man appeared hopeful and Oliver knew that in mere seconds, he would be crushed.

  “What…what are you doing here?” Melody stammered, looking back and forth from Oliver to Pete.

  “Oliver told me that you worked here, I realized you’re closed now, but if you could just…” Pete stated.

  Oliver cringed inside and braced himself for what was to come.

  “Oliver what?” She glanced at Oliver before turning to Pete. “Well, I’m sorry that Oliver told you to come by, but I’m not in the habit of giving strangers my personal information and for that matter, I’m not interested in dating anyone, so if you would please just go.”

  Oliver had never known Melody to be rude before, but figuring all that she had been through, he supposed she was entitled.

  Pete stood, rooted to the spot he was standing in, his mouth hanging open, eyes focused on Oliver. Oliver merely shrugged as if to say, tough break, man, sorry.

  “I…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” Pete apologized openly.

  “You know what? It’s okay, it’s not your fault. I blame this one on Oliver, here. He is the one who messed up, not you. I’m sorry that you came out here and wasted your time.” Glaring at Oliver, Melody crossed her arms in front of her chest.

  Pete glanced back and forth between the two and shook his head. “I don’t know what’s going on with the two of you, but if you ask me, it’s bizarre.” With that, Pete shuffled off, in a hurry to get far away from Melody’s Book Café. Oliver silently counted to three and was surprised that it even took that long before she scowled at him and walked down the street toward her car.

  “I guess I’m eating dinner alone tonight?” Oliver called, even though he knew he would get no response. The sound of the ignition starting in Melody’s car was answer enough. He headed back to his hotel and figured he’d dial room service and then call it a night.

  * * * *

  That night she dreamed of Jack. It wasn’t often she dreamed of him, but when she did, she cherished every moment. This dream was a bit different though. It started with Jack touching her cheek, kissing her forehead, telling her that he wanted her to be happy. In her dream, it was as if he were still alive; they were laughing, kissing, and then he was gone. She remembered reaching out for him, but then nothing. The strange thing was that when she woke, she could have sworn that she smelled his aftershave lingering in her bedroom. Sitting up straight, she sprang from her bed and called out, only to realize that it was ridiculous, of course. The one thing that did stick with her was Jack, telling her to be happy. Never one for believing in ghosts or such nonsense, she tried not to put too much into what the dream meant. Try as she might, though, this dream was different. This dream almost made her wonder. Almost.

  * * * *

  Thanksgiving was coming up in a few days and Melody was torn about what to do with the Oliver situation. She hadn’t spoken with him since the incident, which was about a week ago. She realized that she missed seeing him every day, the way he would just walk into the shop each night at closing. She missed it all. He had become just what she had needed: a good friend, a sounding board, a companion. The funny thing was that each night since he had been gone, she had dreamed of Jack. The dream changed a bit each time, but two things remained constant: Jack telling her to be happy, to move on, and the lingering scent of his aftershave as she woke each morning. Melody was stupefied by Jack’s smell after each dream, and she had gone so far as to research the phenomenon. Yes, that’s what it was, a phenomenon for which there was no reasonable explanation except, of course, a trick of the mind. She had wanted so desperately to see him, smell him, that her mind was conjuring him up through the senses.

  Deciding that she would seek Oliver out today at his hotel, she dressed quickly and started up the coffee pot. Hearing a knock upon her door, she realized that Cassie wasn’t awake yet. It was probably Trent, looking for her. Smoothing her hair back, Melody headed for the door. Spying out the glass section of the door, she saw that it was Oliver. Oliver with a bouquet of flowers. Pulling the door open, she stood, waiting for him to speak.

  “Hi, beautiful.” Oliver offered up the gorgeous flowers in colors of pink, violet and yellow. They smelled fresh and innocent.

  “Hi.” Melody mumbled, peering at him through her hair. Brushing the hair off her face, Melody gestured for Oliver to come in.

  Without speaking, Oliver followed Melody to the kitchen, where she busied herself putting the flowers in a vase with water. Oliver cleared his throat just as Cassie strolled into the room, in her pajamas and yawning. Spotting Oliver, she actually smiled.

  “Well, what do we have here?” She leaned in for a quick kiss on the cheek. Melody noted again how her two friends seemed to be hitting it off. It wasn’t like Cassie to let anyone off the hook so quickly, but then again, there was something different about Oliver. Also, the fact that Oliver wasn’t trying to date Melody probably helped.

  Oliver sat there smiling as he and Cassie made small talk. Remaining si
lent, Melody sipped at her coffee and popped two slices of bread into the toaster oven. “Anybody want some toast?” She mumbled, more out of politeness than anything.

  “Sure. I’ll have some.” Oliver quipped.

  It figured. That man was like a bottomless pit. It reminded her instantly that Oliver and Jack were so alike, but yet so different. Going through the motions of fixing the toast and placing butter and jelly on the table, Oliver asked if he could have some coffee.

  “How do you take it?” Melody asked, stirring sweetener into her second cup of coffee.

  “Black with three sugars,” Oliver blurted out.

  “But that’s how…” Melody began, shaking her head.

  Oliver didn’t even glance at Melody. He spread his butter and a ton of jelly on his toast, continuing his small talk with Cassie. Melody stared, spellbound, watching the way that Oliver fixed his toast, tons of jelly and then stacking the two slices of bread together as if making a sandwich. Melody watched as he greedily munched into the toast sandwich.

  “Excuse me.” Melody sprinted down the hallway, toward her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Slowly she allowed herself to drop to the ground, her back against the door. Holding her head in her hands, she sighed deeply. Why were there so many reminders of Jack on a daily basis? The sound of a knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

  “Go away!” Melody exclaimed.

  “No can do. Open the door, Melody,” Oliver yelled.

  Rising to open the door, Melody faced Oliver. It seemed as if he was going to wrap her in a hug, but then dropped his arms and stepped back. Melody could have really used a hug right now. It was too bad.

  “I guess I’ve been a big brat.” Melody sighed.

  “A little, but that’s okay, I forgive you.” He smiled sheepishly.

  “Don’t push it,” Melody grumbled.

  “Okay, okay. Where are you off to today?” It seemed that Oliver wanted to change the subject.

  “Well, actually I was on my way over to see you at the hotel before work,” she admitted.

  “And what did you want to say to me?” He winked at her.

  “I was going to see if you were still free for Thanksgiving,” she mumbled, looking down.

  Oliver leaned closer, putting his hand to his ear for emphasis. “What was that? I can’t hear you.”

  “I said…I was wondering if you’re still free for Thanksgiving,” she nearly shouted, breaking into laughter. It was good to laugh again, Melody admitted to herself.

  “Ah, that’s what I thought you said. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Leaning toward him, Melody squelched the feeling of disappointment when he once again leaned away from her.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Oliver ventured softly.

  “I don’t know, Oliver. It’s weird. It’s like since I’ve met you, I’ve been bombarded, my senses have been bombarded with thoughts of Jack.” She proceeded to tell Oliver about her dreams, his message to her, the smell of aftershave afterwards. She told him how he somehow reminded her of Jack all the time.

  “Do you suppose that it’s because you’re ready to face things now? Perhaps it’s the calm before the storm.” He spoke sweetly to her, gazing at her with his intense stare.

  “Why can’t I hold you?” She blurted the words out before she realized what she was going to say.

  “What do you mean?” He moved away from her on the edge of the bed.

  “That’s just it, look at you. It makes me feel bad that you’re my friend and I can’t hold you, touch you.” Melody peered at him with all kinds of questions in her gaze.

  Looking clearly uncomfortable, Oliver cleared his throat.

  “Are you afraid of me or are you just one of those people who doesn’t like to be touched?”

  “I…Melody, I don’t want to ruin this. I don’t have those feelings for you,” Oliver stated.

  “That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it. I’ve seen you touch Cassie, you didn’t retreat when she kissed you hello before,” Melody cried out. “Oh my, maybe you do feel something for me. I’m sorry if I led you on.” Melody could only guess that was the reason he was afraid to touch her.

  “No, that’s not it, Melody. Please, be my friend, I’ll be yours, let it go.” Something in the way Oliver looked at her made her realize that he had his own reasons, and to let it drop.

  “Fine, it’s just weird, that’s all.” Melody stood to walk toward the kitchen before Oliver called her back.

  “I care about you more than you realize, Melody.” She saw something in his eyes. Was it sadness?

  “I know, Oliver, me too.”

  Chapter Seven

  Coming to Melody in her dreams was another attempt to make her see the light, to knock some sense into her. He hadn’t meant to hurt her any further, but it seemed that he had succeeded in doing just that. He watched her sleeping the past few nights, aching to reach out and hold her, the very thing that she had accused him of not doing. This was getting to him, having her so close, yet so far. Time was ticking as Thanksgiving had come and gone. It had been a great evening and it was wonderful seeing Melody’s family again. Nobody seemed to notice that he had once sat there, not so long ago, as part of the family. Melody had even seemed happy, laughing at his banter with her father.

  Time to step up his game; the streets, the stores, all around him shouted that Christmas was coming. No more trying to talk sense into Melody. He had to grab the bull by the horns, so to speak, and make this happen on his own.

  He had decided that tonight he would narrow his focus on the local mall. The mall held lots of promise with its bookstores, ice rink and restaurants. Strolling through the stores, he found that most of the men were with women. Men didn’t like to shop much, so where would they go? He headed to a large chain bookstore. Upon entering, he noted that Melody’s Book Café held so much more charm than this large store. Hoping that she would be able to compete with such a large corporation in times of financial difficulty, he continued to notice that small touches were missing all over the store. He made a mental note to share his feelings with Melody; he was sure that she would appreciate it.

  Finding a handsome man perusing the magazine rack, he slowly approached. The man had short blond hair and appeared to be around thirty. Asking the man to excuse him as Oliver reached for a magazine, the man moved to the side without taking his eyes off of his hot rod car magazine.

  Knowing very little about cars, Oliver wondered what he would say to the man. Just when he was about to speak, he noticed that the man was wearing a wedding ring on his left ring finger.

  “Figures,” Oliver muttered to himself as the man glanced up and then moved further away.

  The ice rink was the next stop. He made his way across the mall and up to the fourth floor. He wasn’t sure what he would find here, but was pleasantly surprised when he saw a men’s hockey league was playing on the ice. Plenty of guys here, but how should he approach them? It was difficult enough for a man to gather enough courage to speak to a woman, but as a man trying to find a date for a woman? This was proving to be almost impossible. He wasn’t ready to give up yet. He took a seat on the cold, hard bleachers and waited for the game to end. He actually enjoyed watching the last half hour of the game and found himself rooting for the team dressed in gold.

  Man after man slowly but surely came out of the locker room and headed for the exit to the mall. Watching carefully, he decided upon a dark haired man who was average looking and had a friendly face.

  “Excuse me!” Oliver hustled to catch up the man. The man pivoted his head and stared at Oliver.

  “Yes? Can I help you?”

  “I was hoping that you could point me in the direction of a good place to have a beer. You see, I was supposed to meet a woman, but she stood me up and well, I could use a drink.” Oliver figured that might earn him some male camaraderie.

  “Women.” The man exhaled, shaking his head.

  “Yeah, tell me about it, they�
��re nothing but trouble.” Oliver joined in.

  “The team’s heading over to the steak place at the mall. We usually hang out at the bar, order some food, if you’re interested in joining us,” the man offered.

  “Oh, sure. That would be great. I’m new to the area and I’m just trying to meet a nice girl, you know.”

  “There’s no such thing.” The man snorted. “Name’s Gary, by the way.” Gary stuck out his hand and Oliver pumped it up and down while introducing himself. Oliver figured he’d hold the conversation for later, so the men walked in silence until they reached the restaurant on the top floor. Some of the other hockey players were already seated at the bar, ordering their food and drinks.

  “What’ll it be, Oliver?” Gary offered.

  “I’ll take a beer and some wings.”

  “Sounds good to me. Hey, Gloria, give me two beers and two orders of wings, make mine hot and spicy.” Gary winked at the bartender who appeared disgusted with him for some reason.

  “I’ll take mine hot and spicy, too, Gloria.” Oliver called to her.

  “What’s her problem?” Oliver asked after their beers were delivered with a slam on the bar.

  “Who, Gloria? Ah, she’s just bitter. We went out a few times and I never called her again.”

  “Why not?” Oliver questioned.

  “Why not what?” Gary rested his gaze on Oliver.

  “Why didn’t you ever call her back?”

  “Are you kidding, man? Look at her, you really think I want to get serious with her?”

  “I don’t see why not, I mean, what was the problem?” Oliver was curious now.

  “Dude, are you from this world? I’m not looking for a girlfriend or anything, just out to have a good time.” Gary leered at a brunette across the bar who seemed to enjoy the attention.

  “But, did she want to get serious? I mean from the look of her, she’s not happy with you.” Oliver stated.

 

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