Mel had told her where to find wine glasses, and they were both sipping wine while Subha absently straightened the picture frames on the shelves that Mel’s well-meaning but unartistic father had hung on her walls.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Mel said. “It turns out our insurance covers this procedure, so it isn’t even going to be a big deal, in the long run.”
“It’s a lot of rehab,” Subha said. Subha’s pessimism often balanced usefully against Mel’s relentless optimism—but not today. Today, Mel was obliged to acknowledge that Subha could be a real downer sometimes.
“I’ll be fine,” Mel insisted. “I’m going to start seeing a PT in January. I’ll be able to run again by summer.”
“This doctor told you that?”
“Yes. And his name is Mitch, and he’s actually really nice. Like, to come here and help me out? That’s amazing. I don’t think he just wants to avoid a lawsuit. I think he wants to be friends.”
Subha shrugged. “He seems cocky.”
Mel lied through her teeth, “He does not.”
“Greyson was cocky,” Subha added. “I never liked him.”
Mel raised her eyebrows. She didn’t think Mitch was really like Greyson, though, because of one key difference she had noticed: Mitch had devoted his life to helping people. Greyson’s life had been all about helping himself. That was why he and Mel were so incompatible. When Mel thought of her gift, she knew that Greyson was the one person who was most totally opposed, in every way, to a lifestyle of continual giving. Greyson was a taker. What Mel needed was a giver.
The next day, Mitch came around dinner time. Mel had decided to relocate to the couch; the shorter walk to the kitchen was a trade-off with the longer walk to the bathroom, but overall it was more manageable. She spent the day crocheting more animals—she hoped to give the kids a whole zoo for Christmas—and reading her magazine. She’d given Mitch a key to her front door, so she didn’t need to get up and let him in when he arrived.
“What are you reading?” he said when he came in. He was wearing scrubs again, which was quickly becoming Mel’s favorite look.
She held up the magazine, feeling her face turn a little hot. “It’s an aviation magazine,” she said.
“Did one of the guys leave it here?” he asked, sitting beside her on the couch.
It took Mel a second to realize he must have been referring to her brothers-in-law. That was a pretty sexist question, but Mel was used to it. “No,” she said, “Subha brought it for me. I’m kind of a nerd about this kind of thing, so…”
As she spoke, Mitch was slowly but determinedly pulling the magazine out of her hands. “I love these jets,” he said, pointing to a small jet that was featured in an article inside. “They are so sleek.”
Mel folded her arms. “You’re into planes?”
Mitch smiled self-consciously, apparently just realizing what he had done, and handed the magazine back. “Sorry. Got carried away. My son is into them, so I started reading up on them. He thinks they’re really cool.”
It was always flattering to learn you shared interests with a five-year-old. Mel tucked the magazine away. “How was work?”
“Good, good,” he said. “Felt guilty about not being able to help you out here, but other than that, good.”
Mel didn’t like the sound of that. “Look, you really shouldn’t feel obligated—”
“No, that isn’t what I meant,” he protested. “I just don’t want you to do anything to overexert yourself, and in the short time I’ve known you…”
“What?”
He smiled and shook his head. “It just seems like you might be the kind of girl who doesn’t really pay attention to the rules.”
The wry smile on his face while he said it made Mel think it was meant as a compliment. At least, she decided to take it that way and was flattered.
“Anyway,” he went on, “why don’t I put my suitcase in your guestroom, and then I can heat up some dinner?”
Mel could do nothing but agree. He suggested eating in the dining room, but Mel didn’t like sitting there when the table was mostly empty.
“Want to eat out here?” she’d asked.
Mitch sat back and looked around. The room was long and wide, but because it was usually so cold, Mel had never spent much time here. Large windows faced out to the street, and floor-length, sheer curtains were the only thing blocking the sunlight in the daytime. On the opposite wall from the couch was a fireplace that Mel had never lit, though she had tried once and given up. Now, in late November, it was so dark by dinnertime, and the room so insulated and warm thanks to her dad’s winter-proofing, that nothing was stopping her from spending time there.
“Sure,” Mitch said. “Especially if this is where you’re most comfortable.”
“It is,” she confirmed, gesturing to the pillows that were lifting her knee slightly.
“Can I take a look?” Mitch asked.
Mel leaned back and said, “Be my guest.”
Her knee had a bandage that she had changed the night before, and Mitch removed it to see that the incision was healing well. “Let’s leave this off for now,” he said. “I’ll wrap it up again before you go to sleep.”
When Annie’s spinach lasagna had been cooked, Mitch carried dinner plates into the room, then sat on the floor beside the couch to eat. For a few minutes, they ate and the conversation flagged. But Mel knew, when her heart started racing again, that she should ask Mitch once more about his family. It was so annoying to have to pry like this; she was embarrassed even doing it.
“This is one of my favorite meals,” Mel said. “I’m glad my mom left it for me, because we couldn’t have eaten it while the kids were here. They both hate spinach.” Now, sound casual, she told herself. “Does Aiden eat his vegetables?”
Mitch said, “Yeah, he eats really healthy. We all do. Well, did. I don’t know. Now Ashleigh probably gives him fast food and junk all the time. She always said I was too strict about food.”
Mel cocked her head to the side. This was the first thing Mitch had ever said about Ashleigh that wasn’t totally lovey-dovey. The idea of them fighting over what to feed their kid—that was the kind of thing Mel needed to know before she used her gift.
“Kids do like their junk sometimes,” Mel said. “But I can totally see where you’re coming from, too.” Then she paused. “So, since Ashleigh got Aiden at Thanksgiving, I guess you’ll get Christmas, huh?”
Mitch turned to look at her.
“Sorry. I should—I didn’t mean to—”
“That’s okay,” Mitch said. “I’m just surprised, because that was literally what we were talking about in the car on the way here.” He gestured to his cell phone, which was face-up on Mel’s coffee table. “I called Ash to see if she wanted me to take Aiden any time next month, told her about all the time off I’m taking, and she basically said that she didn’t want to be away from him on the holidays. I was like, I don’t want to, either! So.” He took another bite of lasagna and said around a mouthful of greenish noodle, “Who knows.”
Mel was finished eating, and she didn’t like the pall of negativity this conversation was casting over their evening. She said, “I bet she’ll come around. She just needs some time to think it over. She’ll do what’s best for you both, I’m sure of it.”
Mitch stood up and grabbed her plate. “That’s amazing, considering you’ve never met her.”
Mel shrugged. “I mean, I’m not sure sure. But what’s the harm in having a little hope?”
“How about being disappointed after?” he said, smirking a little as he walked toward the kitchen.
“You’d be disappointed either way,” she called back. “All hope does is keep you happy for as long as possible, so if disappointment is inevitable, at least it’s short.” It was one of her life mottos, and she could hear Mitch laughing at her from the kitchen. It wasn’t really a mean laugh, but it felt a little bit condescending.
“That’s a nice outlook, Mel,”
he said.
Mitch went to bed early—he had to be at the hospital before 7—and Mel stayed up in her room watching Christmas movies on television. She had just put on one about an innkeeper who falls in love with a ghost when she heard a knock on her door.
“Too loud?” she said after she’d told Mitch to come in.
“No, it’s fine,” he answered. “I’m just having trouble sleeping. Can’t get my mind to settle down.”
Mel was seated atop her blankets, her injured leg stretched out over a pillow, the good one curled underneath her. She gestured to the other side of the bed. “Want to watch a movie?”
He walked right in and slid onto the bed, and Mel felt like he was sitting closer than was actually necessary. For the millionth time, she remembered that he was lonely, too. That was probably the real reason why he’d offered to stay.
“What’s this?” he asked, settling back against her headboard.
Mel explained the plot of her movie, and Mitch laughed. “That sounds totally cheesy, doesn’t it?” she said. “I love these movies, though. They always have a happy ending.”
The wistful sound in her voice made Mitch turn and look at her, and he stopped laughing. “Yeah,” he said. “That’s nice.”
They watched for a few minutes in silence, and Mel wondered what was going through his head. He kept glancing toward her, and finally, at a commercial, he said, “This is such a cool house. It’s got character, you know? Not like my place.”
“What’s your place like?”
He shrugged. “Big. New. Kind of bland. It’s on the west side of town.”
That wasn’t close to Mel, who lived on the east side of downtown. Houses in her price range—or, at the time, hers and Greyson’s—were more likely to be found over here. She had a feeling Mitch wasn’t trying to insult her for having less money than him, but it sort of sounded that way, anyway.
“I bet it’s pretty nice,” Mel said, trying to keep her tone neutral.
“I don’t live there now,” Mitch said. “Ash wanted to stay there with Aiden, and I couldn’t really say no. Now I live in an apartment near the hospital, so it’s easier when I’m on call. It’s a cool place. Just kind of empty.”
Mel frowned up at him sympathetically. “Mine, too,” she said. He raised his eyebrows, questioning. “I bought this house for me and my boyfriend…I mean, ex-boyfriend, now. Greyson. We got it six years ago, right after college, when we both had pretty good jobs. I thought we would get married and then have a whole slew of kids to fill up the house.” She chuckled, gesturing toward the empty rooms.
“What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”
She pressed her lips together, giving the usual answer that she was so good at now, it no longer hurt to say. “It turns out we wanted different things. He moved away with his band.”
Mitch, who had grabbed a bottle of water from Mel’s stock pile and had been taking a swig, began to choke. Coughing, he said, “I’m sorry, his what?”
Mel smirked. “His band. He plays in a rock band. Or, he did. I’m not sure what he’s doing now.”
Mitch’s eyes were slightly red as he continued to clear his throat. He said, disbelievingly, “Seriously? What is this, junior high? I mean, he is he kidding me?”
Mel laughed, too. Everybody who knew her knew about Greyson, how things had changed, how everything had gone belly-up. Nobody had really seen it in quite this light before, and now that she heard it that way, it struck her as kind of funny, too. “I don’t know,” she said. “It wasn’t even his day job. He literally couldn’t afford to live on it here, so he thought maybe he’d have better luck in Texas.”
Mitch kept laughing, holding his side with one hand and swiping at his eyes with the other. “I’m sorry,” he squeaked. “I don’t mean to be a jerk. Just—seriously. His band. That caught me off guard.” Mitch’s laughter—and choking—finally petered out, and Mel watched him curiously. He sat back again. “Mel. That’s pathetic. A gorgeous girl like you? Definitely, definitely can do better than him.”
Mel sat up straighter, suddenly struck with the same impulse she’d had at the doctor’s office to make her figure look as attractive as possible. Then she stopped herself, realizing that Mitch had called her gorgeous while she was wearing an old, crooked pair of glasses, a messy bun of hair atop her head, with a t-shirt and baggy running shorts on. If this guy found her anything better than invisible when she looked like this, then maybe she didn’t need to work to impress him. Maybe, she thought, he was just easy to impress.
“Well, I appreciate it,” Mel said, turning her attention back to her movie, which had come back from a commercial break.
Mitch, following her lead, settled back against the headboard, arm pressed next to hers. Mel had to stop herself from smiling. It had been a long, long time since anybody had shared her bed—even just to sit up and talk. This was totally bizarre, and it could never last…but still, it was nice. It was really, really nice.
Chapter 4
The next day was the 1st of December, Mitch’s last day of work for the month. He’d gone back to his room before the movie had ended, after Mel reminded him of his early day and pointed out that, with a succession of increasingly lengthy yawns, he definitely seemed sleepy.
He was noisy enough in the morning to wake her, and she hobbled out of her bedroom to find him on his knees next to the bathtub, swearing.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He looked up guiltily. “I think I broke your shower.”
“Really?” Mel gripped the counter and came closer. Mitch was wearing only a towel around his waist; his clothes were piled on the toilet lid, and he had apparently been working at this for some time. Mel leaned forward, trying to stop herself from staring in the wrong direction as she peeked around him. “How is it broken?”
“I don’t know,” he said, twisting the faucet again with a grunt, “but it won’t—come—on!”
Mel shook her head. “Water’s coming out.”
“Down here,” he said, gesturing to the large faucet. “But it won’t come out of the shower head.”
Mel fought against smiling. “Let me try.” She leaned forward and pulled the lip under the faucet down to switch from tub to shower mode. Instantly, their faces and arms were sprinkled with warm water from the shower head.
“Whoa! So that’s how it works!” Mitch sat back on his heels, a look of amazement on his face. Mel tried not to laugh. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Don’t I feel stupid?” But they were just words; Mel could tell he wasn’t embarrassed. He seemed like he’d be awfully tough to embarrass. Maybe it was his confidence that made him so attractive.
Mel shook her head. “It’s okay. Not everybody knows how to work these. I think one year, one of my brothers-in-law almost did break it trying to turn it on.” That wasn’t actually true. In fact, it was a total lie, and nothing of the sort had happened. When Brent or Adam needed help, they just asked, like most adults would. But Mel didn’t want Mitch to feel bad, so she told the first fib she could think of.
It did the trick. Mitch smiled and said, “Right? They’re not intuitive!”
Mel nodded in agreement, then patted the counter once before turning to hobble back out again. “Well, I guess you’re all set, then, so I’ll get out of your way.”
“Wait!” Mitch said. “Do you need any help?”
Mel looked back over her shoulder at him and smiled. “Oh, no. I’m just heading back to bed.”
“Okay,” he called back. “Sorry.”
“No worries!” Mel headed toward her room, but she stopped at the door. She was tired, but she didn’t feel like she could fall back to sleep. He’d made her excited, like a kid on Christmas morning. Was it her gift again? Was she supposed to go back in and talk to him?
The idea of going back in, where Mitch was almost certainly undressing or already undressed, gave her another, even more potent thrill. Ah. That’s where the excitement came from. It had been so long since a man s
he was attracted to had come into her life that she had almost forgotten what it felt like.
Mel truly wasn’t so much of an invalid that she couldn’t get from room to room, no matter what Mitch said or thought. Sure, he was a doctor, but Mel felt confident enough in her own body. She used the wall to hop to the kitchen and start a pot of coffee. She had gotten a mug and filled it up, and was contemplating the fastest way to get it with her to the couch—because she really was tired from all that hopping—when Mitch came in the room.
“Whoa there, Tiger,” he said, smiling and taking the mug out of her hand. “There really is no keeping you down, is there? You have got to at least pretend that you’re trying to rest your knee, especially when your doctor is around.”
“I am trying to rest,” she said. “I’m trying to get to the couch so I can lie down.”
Mitch said, “Why don’t you go to your room? That way you’re close to the bathroom.”
“I’ll be far from the kitchen.”
Mitch shook his head. “I’ll bring you anything you need. In fact, I’ll bring your coffee now.”
Mel shot him a sparkling smile, and he returned it with surprise in his eyes. “Is coffee all it takes to win your heart?” he said.
Him mentioning her heart reminded Mel of his deepest wish, and suddenly she felt embarrassed for even having this flirty repartee with him. Who did he think he was, making her feel like this, even while he had a family he wanted to win back? He couldn’t have it both ways; it wasn’t fair to Mel, or to Ashleigh and their son. It wasn’t fair to anybody.
Mel said, “I’m easy enough to please. Listen, you don’t have to do anything extra for me. I’ll be just fine on the couch.”
Mitch hurried around her, depositing the coffee in her bedroom before jogging back up the hallway to where Mel still hopped along the living room wall. “Here,” he said, and with one fluid motion, he swung her into his arms.
Mel gasped, and she couldn’t think of anything to say. Being carried as though you’re light as a feather isn’t something most people get to experience very regularly, and it was happening repeatedly since Mitch had come into her life.
Christmas Melody: a romance for the holidays Page 5