Bulky wooden rocking chairs sat on either side of the oak, stained-glass front door. In the spring she lined the brick steps leading up to it with terra cotta pots, brimming with marigolds and geraniums. In the summer when evening came, she would rock contentedly for hours listening to the sounds of the crickets chirp, and the squeals of delight from neighborhood children, playing one game or another. She would lift her face to catch the sultry summer breeze that caressed her face. A queen in her castle, Brady would whisper in her ear, after he scooped her up in strong arms, darkened from hours of hard work in the unforgiving sun, sending shivers of desire up her spine.
She put the brakes on that memory, and stuck with her earlier thoughts of what a jerk he was!
Disappointment settled back in the pit of her belly, right where it belonged. She had grown used to it, she mused, and decided it could stay.
Melina climbed the steps woodenly; her muscles ached from tension, and fatigue.
* * * *
Celia's coat hanging on the brass rack signaled she had let herself in. Celia was the best friend a girl could have; she was the confidante, pal and partner in gossip mongering who had kept Melina steady on the uphill rise this past year. When the bottom had dropped out, Celia'd gotten the broom and dustpan out and swept up, all while she cooked a meal Emeril would be green with envy over.
“Hey friend,” Celia called warmly from the kitchen. The inviting aroma of coffee and some scrumptious morsel Celia had whipped up beckoned her. Wiping her hands on an apron, she enveloped Melina in a hug scented with cinnamon. Her eyes sought Melina's with concern, as she grabbed her hand and pulled her toward a chair.
Melina gratefully sank into it, and let the tension seep out of her on a long-winded sigh.
Celia gathered the makings for coffee, and a warm plate of cinnamon rolls, and set them down in front of Melina, sitting opposite her friend.
“Eat!” she commanded, with a grin. “You've lost too much weight, and quite frankly I don't like the competition.” Melina smirked at that. Celia didn't have competition, she was in a class all her own. Tall and alluring with a rock-hard body most women would die for, the men lined up in droves. As if that wasn't enough, her gloriously curly red hair completed the package.
“Competition from me?” Melina feigned ignorance. “I'm feeling pretty sure none of the men interested in you are interested in some dumpy ad exec. I do not fall into the sexy, mysterious category,” she joked.
Celia waved a dismissive hand. “So how did it go with the tuna people? What's Alvin done today to persuade you to go out with him?” Melina filled her in on all of the gory details.
“There's more,” Celia guessed. Along with her other many talents, she possessed the radar of NASA.
“Brady showed up, at my office” Melina said.
Celia whistled sharply. “Aw, hell honey, are you okay?”
Stubbornly, Melina fought the urge to wail. She wrapped her hands around her coffee mug for warmth. “I'm fine” she said stiffly.
“No, that face doesn't say fine. What happened?” She pressed Melina for the scoop. Melina sighed rubbing the heel of her hand over tired eyes. “He seems to feel that after all this time we should sit down and talk. I'll be screwed and tattooed if he thinks for one damn second he's getting this house. And you can bet you're pretty assshe won't be moving in anytime soon!” Melina slapped her cup down with a determined thunk.
This, Celia thought, had gone on far too long. Melina's despondent response to this life-altering mess troubled her with each day that slipped by. She would not acknowledge that her life had changed drastically, nor would she deal with all that that encompassed—namely, Brady.
Melina had been a funny, vibrant, feisty woman, with a better-than-average life, but she had been hurt, and while she wouldn't let it go, she also wouldn't acknowledge the cause of the hurt. Melina just ignored Brady and the troubled waters their marriage floated in. She wouldn't agree to see him, but she hadn't filed for divorce either. She needed to explode, rant, rave, kick, scream, anything but continue in this God-forsaken limbo. To see all the fight in her friend gone was a big fat pin in Celia's bubble. She was of the opinion that what Melina needed was a good stirring up.
She seized the opportunity to play devil's advocate.
“Maybe he just wants to make things right, Melina. He knows he's behaved badly. I think you've lost sight of the fact that Brady wasn't a horrible person, he just made a horrible mistake.” Celia put her hands up in defense, before Melina could curl up in that protective shell she'd battened down her hatches with, and cut her off at the pass. Keeping her big yap shut had never been high on Celia's list of priorities.
“Just hear me out, Melina. Brady was a good husband for nearly seven years and he was a pretty good friend to me. Are you trying to tell me that you chose a deadbeat seven years ago? Those parts of the person Brady was, don't they still exist somewhere?
“Okay, so maybe he lost his way, and I do mean in a big way, and took a path that knocked you for a loop. You know how I feel about it, but don't lie to yourself about the kind of man he is. He loves and misses you. Did he hurt you by what he did? You bet he did, you can take that to the bank. But isn't he doing the right thingnow ? If you make a mistake, no matter how big, better late than never to atone, right? Aw honey, he caused unbearable pain, and heartache. I was there remember? Your pain was so real I felt it. But in your heart of hearts youknow he wasn't himself, and I know he still loves you, even if you don't.
“I'm not asking you to go against your values on the subject, only you can make that call. But I am asking you to consider that Brady was, at one time, a loving husband who respected you and provided for you, not to mention made your toes curl when he walked into a room. So, for all the bad he's done, the good just might outweigh it. Can't you just consider the possibility that he has some real remorse?” Celia watched Melina's mouth tighten into a thin angry line.
“Look, you won't talk to me about it, and you certainly aren't talking to him. You've bottled all of this up for too long, and one way or another this denial is going to rear its ugly head. You can't pretend this didn't happen to your marriage, Melina. If you can't forgive Brady, then don't, but don't let it sour you for the rest of your life!”
Celia stopped her tirade short; her heart skipped a beat. She had overstepped her bounds, tread on that imaginary line Melina had meticulously drawn in the sand. The one that said, “Let sleeping dogs lie, this is too much for me to face right now.”
Celia reached out and grasped Melina's hand in her own and squeezed it, trying to soften her straightforward approach.
“I only say this because you're my friend and life is going to keep moving, with or without you. And now I sound like Dr. Phil.” Celia smothered a giggle. “But I can't stand to see you do the stiff upper lip thing anymore. You haven't moved from the same spot you were in a year ago, and you haven't acknowledged your pain. So my friend, I ask you this: what are you going to do? Hold a grudge forever, or let this go, deal with it, and then move on?”
The blank look on Melina's face spoke volumes. She wasn't going to let down her defenses, and that, my friend, was that. Celia hadn't rallied for Brady much. She didn't want to alienate Melina, and she didn't necessarily disagree with Melina's choices, but from an outsider's perspective, she knew down to her very soul that Brady loved Melina more than anything. He'd just fucked it all up, and she wanted to slap him in the head for it. Better yet, she wanted Melina to slap him, or confront him—orsomething, anything. She hadn't walked a mile in Melina's shoes, but one way or the other Melina had to forgive and forget, or forgive and move on.
“If getting on with my life isn't what I've been doing, then I don't know what the hell this is called. I get up every morning, I shower, I go to work and I come home. I don't wallow in self pity for Pete's sake.”
“Then why haven't you filed for divorce?” Celia countered. Well there it was in all its glory, the “D” word.
“B
ecause the less I push, the less I have to deal with Brady. I just can't right now Celia, I don't have the energy, and I don't need him coming around staking his claim. You know what he's like. If I start waving divorce papers around, he'll get territorial, starting with the house. This is my house, and I won't let him have it!”
“So what then? You'll just be married forever to a no-good bastard?” Celia shoved just a little harder. She watched Melina's face flush with anger. “Its not like you have children to consider, and I'm pretty sure he won't fight for custody of Otis and Redding.” Celia snickered.C'mon honey, fight back. Gimme a sign here.
“Nope, you're right C. I don't know what's been keeping me from filing, but first thing tomorrow I'm calling an attorney.” Melina gave Celia a smug smile of satisfaction.
Celia frowned.Shit.
* * * *
Pricilla had her doubts, but there had to be a way, and if there was one, she would find it. Brady hated her guts. Likewise she thought, but if the Head Honcho said this was his destiny, then who was she to tellHim it wasn't? Pricilla didn't like it, not one iota; Brady had hurt her baby, what could be the hidden meaning for that?
This was not going to be easy. Oh, she wished Verbena were here to help. But mission rule number fifteen clearly states there is to be no contact with your Mentor Angel until your mission is complete. Verbenanever broke the rules.
Pricilla drifted skyward, and lingered above the big maple tree in Melina's front yard, giving her the best view into the bay window in the kitchen. Her heart pounded wildly at the sight of her daughter. It had been too many years since she'd seen her, not just because Pricilla was dead, but because she hadn't had much time for anything but herself and her boyfriend de jour when she was alive. My heavens, she was beautiful just like her mamma. Her heart swelled with pride, Pricilla paused at that thought.
Jeez, talk about schmaltzy, but she couldn't seem to help the rush of emotion.
If only she could go back ... Pricilla felt the vague stirrings of remorse begin to creep in. Maybe if she had done it right, before she was so rudely yanked from her earthly form, Melina wouldn't be suffering now. Pricilla longed to comfort her daughter, to soothe the worried frown from her face, and take away the burden her slim shoulders now carried.
Funny thing was, Pricilla had never experienced these feelings before now. She'd lived for the moment with no thought as to what the consequences might be. The manner of her death hadn't exactly gone unnoticed by her. She had lived recklessly, and died the same way.
Daggone that Earl for driving like a bat out of hell! Pricilla never even saw the other car coming. It was true what they said, she never felt a thing. Earl on the other hand, had felt it, lived to tell the tale, and never had another drop to drink. He was married now, with a nice wife and new baby.
Pricilla was just dead. Ah well, life gives you lemons, you make lemonade.
She hadn't been a bad mother exactly, just less available than most. Okay, hardly ever around, if she were being brutally honest. Cookies and milk weren't her thing, nor was anything else that resembled motherhood. Melina was everything Pricilla wasn't and more, independent, and smart.And lost in so much misery I don't think she can bear it.
She was grateful for that neighbor of hers, Celia. She was good to Melina, and she was a good advantage on Pricilla's playing field, ‘cause she seemed to like Brady. Pricilla had met Celia once or twice, on her visits with Melina, but they'd become less frequent in her last years on earth, and the regret she felt now was palpable.
Helplessly, she'd watched from above, while Melina's life crumbled. But maybe if she played this right, the person she really helped in the end would be Melina. She owed her that much, and she wasn't going to fail her now. She had in life but she just couldn't in death! Oh, hell—I meant heck, she reassured the powers that be--there has to be something I can do! Where there was a will, there was a way.
The wind picked up then, in huge arctic gusts. Tree limbs shook loose and fell violently to the ground, scattering beneath her perch. Pricilla scanned the horizon; dark, angry clouds began to form in the distance. “Oh all right, Verbena, I hear ya,” Pricilla grumbled to the heavens above. And with that, a plan was hatched.
Chapter 4
Enough! I'm researched out.Melina leaned back, massaged the back of her knotted neck and pushed her chair away from the laptop to face the window overlooking the backyard. Redding climbed off of the windowsill and curled up in her lap. She absently stroked his back. Otis snored loudly by her feet. Darkness had fallen, and the blackness that cloaked the night mirrored her mood. Evenings were always the worst. She had too much time to spend with her thoughts, and memories.
Weary green eyes caught her distorted reflection in the window. Ugh! She stuck her tongue out at herself. She looked like something the cat dragged in; tangled curls fell around her gaunt face. Faint purple shadows rimmed her eyes; and the slant of her cheekbones grew more hollow by the day.
Her eyes slid closed as she gave some thought to what Celia had said earlier. Life would go on with or without her, so what was she going to do about that?
She had married Brady shortly after college, and together they had begun his construction business. Brady brought stability and consistency to her life, something she had sorely lacked with her mother. She'd dreamed of the family they would have, maybe a little boy just like Brady. Somehow that just hadn't happened, her fertility doctor told her it was due to stress. Melina knew she was guilty of isolating herself; not being able to fulfill her dream of a family was like a knife in her heart, and even more impossible was her ability to share her inadequacy over it.
She filled her days with work at the agency—and Brady filled his by building houses meant for families. Brady repeatedly reassured her that it didn't matter, that he had her and that was enough. Melina heard the words, she just didn't believe them. As it turned out, they had all been lies anyway.
She had loved Brady like no other, and he had taken that love, ripped it up and torn it to shreds. Now it was all lost to her, to both of them. There were days when she missed him so desperately that her gut ached from it. The emptiness he had left behind haunted her in the dark of night.
Melina stretched out on the bed that had once been a place of refuge, and which now held little appeal. Itwas time to move on. First thing tomorrow she would hire an attorney and they would sort out the mess that had become their marriage. She would let go, just like that.
If she could just forget, if the images in her head would only let her be, she could go right on backstroking in the river of denial. Tears burned at the back of her eyelids and she furiously wiped them away. Acute waves of loneliness swept over her. She had never made a decision as monumental as this in her life. She was alone, without anyone to help her but herself.
Melina wrapped her arms around a pillow, and sent a fleeting prayer to the heavens for guidance.
* * * *
Brady was wrenched from sleep by his squawking alarm clock. He had spent a fitful night, drifting in and out of a dreamless slumber. “Oh, Cowboy!” A throaty whisper with a Texas twang filled his ear. He swat at it, in an effort to stave off the unavoidable. “Rise and shine, blue eyes. I have some VIP info that you need to hear.”
Lord, he hated this woman!Read that thought, you old bag, and stuff it you know where.
“Good news, Cheeseball, the feeling's mutual. Now come on, we have to hurry. Don't ya want to know what your wife is up to today?” she said enticingly.
Brady sat bolt upright; he always wanted to know what Melina was up to—the trouble was, she didn't want him to know. Melina had effectively cut him out of her life a year ago, as though he had never been there to begin with. She never called him, she never asked for help of any kind, and she never cashed the checks he wrote unless it had to do with repairs for the house. And so he drowned himself in booze.
She hadn't spoken directly to him about anything, even about the trouble she was having with the plumbing or the reno
vations she planned. In fact, he almost never came within spitting distance of Melina. Until yesterday. His intention had been to try and talk this mess out rationally. He was ashamed to admit he hadn't been around much these past months. But seeing her, being near her, had made him want her more than ever. There wasn't a single thing about her he didn't miss. Brady had wanted to haul her into his arms, pull her close and bury his face in her neck, inhale the sweet sent of her whiskey colored curls, tell her how sorry he was....
Pricilla's constant prattle interrupted his train of thought.
“Hey, Hero, I have an idea. It just sorta came to me. You have to worm your way back into Melina's life, and this morning the perfect opportunity has come knockin’ on your door. Your charm and good looks are going to pave the way for you, Hot Shot. Just try to contain the Neanderthal act, okay?” She really was a creative genius, or was that master manipulator? The confused look on his face made her clap her hands together briskly.
“Shake a leg, get a shower, and for gravy's sake, shave! The Don Johnson look is so eighties. Hurry!” She shooed him out of bed. “I'll make coffee,” she promised.
Whew! What she wouldn't do for a java infusion right about now! But there was rule number twenty: no partaking of earthly pleasures. Verbena must be splittin’ a gut by now! Pricilla hadn't always been filing her nails in those Angel apprentice classes!
For reasons unknown to him, Brady did exactly what he was told, feeling a sense of urgency nipping at his ass. The reluctance he had felt yesterday to believe in Pricilla's existence had given way to a baser need. Melina, he needed Melina, and his life back. He'd always known that, but it had been easier to chase that need away with booze and self pity. He was ashamed of himself, and not very good at admitting it. Now the intensity of his need had caught him off guard. The realization that he was going to lose everything if he didn't turn this careening car around had been an eye-opener. A small twinge of hope fizzled in the pit of his belly, as he lathered up under the sharp spray of the shower. He didn't know what he was in for with Pricilla at the wheel, but he figured it couldn't be much worse than it already was.
Sex With Your Ex Page 3