Hot Fudge Fraud

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Hot Fudge Fraud Page 5

by Anisa Claire West


  “You don’t sound too confident, Keith!” She accused, gripping the armrests as the plane wobbled through the air.

  In Coach Class, a commotion was breaking out as passengers disobeyed the captain’s directive and scrambled out of their seats. Flight attendants rushed to hustle them back into their seats, but people were too agitated to be appeased.

  “We’ve only been in the air for half an hour! How in God’s name did this happen? Why the hell wasn’t the problem detected before we took off?” An angry man grumbled loudly as a flight attendant tried unsuccessfully to calm him down.

  Melanie’s jaw clenched and she thought how ironic it was that her very first flight would be a disaster. It’s just like I always said. I’m not lucky in anything. Unexpectedly, a vision of her mother’s face appeared in her mind as the plane jerked through the skies. Vividly, she could picture her mother’s cool blue eyes and warm smile. She raised a spontaneous prayer up to her mother, hoping that somehow her spirit would hear.

  Chapter 5

  Passengers were dashing through the aisle, bumping into one another as the tumult intensified. “Why is the plane moving like that? Is the mechanical issue that bad?” Melanie asked anxiously.

  “No. That’s just turbulence. It’s normal in a flight when the winds are strong. The mechanical issue is separate,” Keith explained levelly, although his nerves were frazzled as well.

  “I wish the captain would say something else,” Melanie sighed.

  “I don’t. Let him focus on landing this plane safely,” Keith mumbled. Squeezing her hand so tightly that her bones ached, he said, “This is just a rocky start, Melanie. Don’t worry. We’ll get to Ireland. It won’t be so bad. We’ll take the first flight out of Myrtle Beach to Washington.”

  “I can’t even think about that right now. All I can think about is getting off this horrible plane!” Melanie cried as the plane began a frightening descent.

  The plane lurched sharply as Melanie’s head knocked back against the seat. Melanie focused on the soothing image of her mother’s face, relearning the outline of the young woman’s smile in her memory. Without warning, a flashback of a near-fatal car accident came back to her. All these years she had blocked the terrifying incident from her mind…

  A torrential April rain shower beat down on the windshield. Seven year old Melanie was arranging a booklet of scratch and sniff stickers while riding in the back seat of her parents’ car to pick up Mr. Bradley from his latest construction site.

  “You got any chocolate stickers back there, Melly, love?”

  “Yes, Mama, and they’re super sweet!”

  “I bet you got a whole lot of sweet smelling stickers, but they’re not as sweet as you!” Her mother coddled in her lilting Irish accent.

  Melanie snickered and replied, “Mama, I’ve got so many stickers. Here, smell one.” She reached around to the front seat to place a sticker under her mother’s nose. A moment later, both mother and daughter were screaming in horror.

  Abruptly, Maureen Bradley swerved in the rain to avoid a little boy who had clambered into the street. The child hurried to the curb and escaped unharmed, but Mrs. Bradley’s car hit a tree while Melanie recoiled in the back seat.

  Amazingly, neither had been seriously injured, although her mother complained of back and neck pain after the accident. Melanie’s eyes flooded with shocked tears as the memory crystallized in her mind. That accident was my fault, she realized. That must be why I blocked it all these years.

  In the midst of her reminiscing, Melanie didn’t notice the spilled drinks that stained the carpets of the airplane nor the flight attendant who huddled a few feet away praying. She involuntarily dug her nails into Keith’s hand as the plane’s engine sputtered and a splintering sound crashed through the air. The ominous noises produced a hushed atmosphere throughout the plane as passengers were now paralyzed with fear. Melanie glanced over at Keith who looked shell-shocked. She was certain that he had never experienced a horrific flight like this, no matter how well traveled he was.

  Dozens of questions spun in her mind, but she uttered none of them aloud. Are we going to die? Will I get to finally see my mother again? Before another question could creep into her consciousness, the plane plunged downward and skidded onto the runway with bone rattling force. The landing was so jolting that snack bags flew through the aisles and several passengers moaned that they were nauseated. The passengers elicited a collective scream as the wheels screeched across the runway strip and the engine continued to labor audibly. But they were on solid ground again. That knowledge alone was enough for Melanie at the moment.

  She and Keith looked up in unison and exchanged a fierce hug. His eyes were hazy with teardrops as she let her own tears flow liberally. Pandemonium broke out a moment later as people ripped open the overhead compartments and yanked out their luggage. Bodies slammed into each other in the cramped aisle as people fought to get out first. Pleas for calm and organization from the captain went unheeded as the mayhem grew.

  Holding Melanie’s hand securely, Keith collected their carry-ons and pushed past a sea of disoriented people to get off the plane. Flight attendants issued instructions about catching a connection to Washington, but no one listened. The only lucid thought in everyone’s mind was getting the hell off the malfunctioning plane. The businessman in Keith wanted to ask about comp vouchers and other amends for the disastrous flight, but he remained mum and filed out of the plane with Melanie.

  Myrtle Beach Airport was as small as its counterpart in Charleston, and the pair easily navigated their way to a gate bound for Washington, DC. “It says the flight is leaving in 40 minutes. That will be cutting it close for our connection to Dublin, but we’ll try. Come on Melanie, let’s go.”

  Melanie stalled at the gate, terrified by the idea of boarding another plane. “Maybe we could stay in Myrtle Beach overnight? I mean, I just can’t bear the thought of being in the air again. I’m feeling sick, Keith,” she said pleadingly.

  He looked at her sympathetically. “I feel awful. That flight was supposed to be fun and exciting, not some death defying stunt!” He shook his head angrily, unsure if he should direct his temper towards the airline or towards himself for inviting her on this ill-fated trip.

  “Don’t feel bad! I’ll be okay in the morning. I just need to get a good night’s rest and then I’ll be ready to get on another plane…I think,” she said uncertainly.

  “Alright. I’ll book us into a hotel and see if we can get the first flight to Washington in the morning.” Keith strolled over to the check-in counter and made arrangements for the flight and accommodations.

  “So we’re all set?” Melanie asked a few minutes later, emerging from the ladies room where she had splashed her face with cold water.

  “Yes. The hotel is just a block from this airport. We’ll take a shuttle there. And then tomorrow morning, our flight leaves for Washington at 8 am.”

  “Oh my. Is it possible to have jet lag before we’ve even changed time zones?” Melanie asked half seriously. “Because I don’t know if I’ll be able to wake up in time for our flight. I’m pooped.”

  “I’ll make sure you wake up, sleepyhead,” Keith said warmly, leading the way towards the shuttle.

  At the hotel, the front desk clerk produced key cards to two adjacent rooms. Melanie didn’t know if she should feel flattered or insulted by the fact that Keith had booked them separate rooms. She hoped the sleeping arrangements would be cozier once they got to Ireland.

  Tonight, I need sleep. It’s good that he’ll be in another room. How would I be able to sleep with him so close to me? But at least then he could hold me in his arms. Would Keith do that? Just hold me…

  *****

  Melanie awoke to a firm rapping at her hotel room door. Groggily, she emerged from a too-brief sleep and glanced at the digital clock. It was already 6 am. She still needed to shower and dress before they could shuttle over to the airport for their flight.

  “Melanie? Are yo
u awake?” Keith queried, knocking more loudly.

  “Yes, I just woke up. Give me about 20 minutes and I’ll meet you in the hallway,” she replied, dashing into the bathroom and turning on the shower head to full blast.

  The steamy water melted away the tension from her aching muscles and invigorated her for the odyssey ahead. I’m still in South Carolina, she thought grimly. I don’t have a good feeling about this trip. Ignoring her premonitions, she squeezed into a pair of boot cut jeans and slithered into a fresh sweater. Dabbing a bit of strawberry wine lipstick on her mouth, she grabbed her carry-on and rolled into the hallway.

  Keith was waiting patiently with two cups of coffee in his hands. “Thought you might need a little caffeine burst this morning,” he said, offering her a cup. “I didn’t know how you take your coffee, so I got you a whole bunch of creamers and sugars.”

  “Thank you, Keith. I take my coffee light and sweet. Probably too sweet,” she joked, pouring two packets of sugar into the cup.

  “They’ll serve a small breakfast on the flight,” he assured as her stomach grumbled.

  “Great,” she whispered self-consciously as he smiled.

  “You’re adorable, Melanie. I just had to say that.” He leaned over and gave her an impulsive kiss on the lips. As fleeting as the contact was, it stirred up memories of their electrifying first kiss outside Hot Fudge Fancy. Keith felt the explosive chemistry too as an intense look poured from his liquid blue eyes.

  As they wheeled their luggage down the corridor, Keith’s phone beeped. “Who the hell is texting me this early in the morning?” He mumbled, reaching into his pocket for the phone. Apparently recognizing the caller, he grimaced and shoved the phone back in his pocket.

  Melanie remained appropriately silent and didn’t question Keith about the dismissed message…even though she was flaming with curiosity inside. His demeanor shifted from buoyant to flat as they boarded the shuttle. Trying to ignore his abrupt change in mood, Melanie nursed her cup of coffee and mentally prepared herself to board another plane.

  Sensing her apprehension, Keith said, “I know you’re scared after what happened yesterday. But the flight from Myrtle Beach to Washington, DC is so fast, you’ll miss it if you blink.”

  “I hope so,” she said, unconvinced.

  Fortunately, Keith was right, and the flight was uneventful. Melanie raised the window slat as the plane landed smoothly on the airstrip. The city looked much more imposing than Charleston, and Melanie felt a wave of exhilaration filter through her.

  “Charleston really isn’t a city, is it?” She quipped as Keith chuckled.

  “Not compared to Washington, DC. Charleston is just a big town next to a city like DC,” he agreed as they strode off the plane. “Well, at least we won’t be laid over too long. Our flight to Dublin departs in less than an hour,” Keith said, pointing to their next gate.

  “Good. And I think I’m over my fear of flying. At least for now,” she said, trying not to dwell on being suspended in mid air over the treacherous Atlantic Ocean. She liked her ocean views on dry land, not in the clouds.

  Like clockwork, they slipped into their First Class seats and relaxed with a champagne brunch served by an Irish-accented crew. Melanie listened to the accents around her with awe. She hadn’t heard anyone speak with an Irish brogue since her mother died.

  “I love your accent,” Melanie said sweetly to a redheaded stewardess with enormous green eyes.

  “Thank you, love,” the stewardess replied, offering her a hot hand towel.

  As they finished their brunch, Melanie sighed contentedly, curling up against Keith who welcomed the closeness. Resting his head on hers, he closed his eyes and drifted into a light sleep as the plane cruised above the sea.

  Hours later, their eyes fluttered open as the captain announced that the plane would be landing momentarily in Dublin. Melanie shivered with anticipation, peering out the window at the misty rain that dotted the glass. “We’re here,” she whispered, turning from the window to grace Keith with a kiss.

  “Yes, we are,” he said with a wide grin. “And just keep kissing me like that. Pretend I’m the Blarney Stone. Every time you kiss me, you’ll have the luck of the Irish,” he joked.

  Melanie flinched at the word ‘luck’ and corrected him gravely. “That’s not what the legend says. The legend says that you’ll receive the gift of gab if you kiss the Blarney Stone.”

  “Either way, just keep kissing me,” he urged in a low voice as she couldn’t resist a smile.

  Keith switched his cell phone back on as the plane came to a halt. Immediately, it beeped with new messages. He stared at the screen angrily before turning the power off again.

  “Is someone bothering you?” Melanie asked, unable to resist her curiosity any longer.

  “No one who matters,” Keith said blankly. “Now let’s get off this plane. I can’t wait till you see the hotel I picked out for us.”

  Chapter 6

  Keith’s eyes twinkled as he pressed the Penthouse button on the elevator. “I meant it when I said you’re a first class lady.”

  Speechless, Melanie held her breath as the elevator climbed to the top floor. Her heart somersaulted into her gut as the lift made its definitive stop at the penthouse floor. Keith slid an arm around her waist and guided her to their suite. Whistling under his breath, he unlocked the door to the suite with a sweeping “tah-dah.”

  Slowly, Melanie walked into the cluster of rooms, taking inventory of the cathedral high ceilings and gold plated chandeliers. The penthouse suite boasted a master bedroom with a massive round bed swaddled in curtains and a smaller but equally opulent guest bedroom.

  “The master bedroom is all yours,” Keith offered as Melanie nodded, unsure how to respond. The ostentatious surroundings had temporarily kidnapped her brain, and she wandered around the suite in awe.

  “Well if those first class flights were surreal…” she murmured, resisting the compulsion to pinch her fleshy upper arm.

  “I’m glad you like it,” Keith said, shrugging out of his jacket. “There are also two bathrooms in here. And of course, I’ll defer to you. I’ll take the smaller bathroom.”

  “Keith, this is too much,” Melanie exclaimed, snapping back to reality. “This isn’t a second date. It’s a second honeymoon! I can’t let you pay for all this…”

  “Already have. On the credit card. Just enjoy it. That’s all I want from you,” he whispered, taking her hand and leading her to the terrace that offered a stunning view of Dublin.

  “Wow,” she breathed. In the rain and haze, the city appeared mystical. I wouldn’t be surprised to see a leprechaun trotting down the street. Or a rainbow with a pot of gold at the end of it. “This is extraordinary. There are simply no words.”

  Keith tenderly kissed the top of her head and announced with a smirk, “I’m going to take a shower in my peasant’s bathroom. If you’d like to freshen up in your queen’s bathroom, by all means, go ahead.”

  Giggling, she responded, “You don’t need to use the peasant’s bathroom! We can take turns with the royal one!”

  Instead of answering, he simply smiled and disappeared into the tiny bathroom inside the guest bedroom. In a daze, Melanie glided into the “queen’s bathroom” and grimaced as soon as she looked in the mirror. Her lips were parched and caked with lipstick. Some lip color had even migrated onto her teeth, she realized in humiliation. Her hair was a rumpled disaster, and she certainly smelled like she had been in transit for 24 hours.

  Turning on the shower jets, she peeled off her sweaty clothes and ran a comb through her knotted hair. A moment later, she luxuriated under dual massaging shower heads, basking in the sensation of hot water spilling over her skin. She scrubbed all the grime of the intercontinental voyage off her body and kneaded an extra squirt of shampoo into her tresses.

  Afterwards, she sank into an oversize hotel bathrobe and made her way over to the freshly made bed. Grabbing for her cell phone, she placed a call to her father
to let him know she arrived safely. From the guest bedroom, she detected the beeping of Keith’s text notifications. A moment later, he cursed and threw something against the wall. Trying not to become alarmed, Melanie spoke into the phone as her father picked up.

  “Um, hi Dad, I just wanted to let you know I’m here in Ireland,” she said, hoping the long distance would mask the fact that her voice was trembling.

  “Oh, I’m so relieved! Safe and sound! And don’t you worry, Sunny is doing just fine. We’re at Hot Fudge Fancy right now. Holdin’ down the fort,” Mr. Bradley said brightly.

  “That’s great, Dad. How’s everything going at the shop?” She inquired as Keith’s phone beeped again in the other room.

  “Pretty good. Steady stream of customers today. Boy is it a hot one! 93 degrees! Your ice pops have been selling really well today. And I sold a bunch of frozen smoothies too,” Mr. Bradley revealed as he chomped down on a chocolate chip ice cream sandwich.

  “Are you eating the inventory over there, Dad?” Melanie asked innocently.

  Sheepishly, her father replied, “Guilty as charged. These ice cream sandwiches are heavenly.”

  “It’s okay. I do it all the time. My usual lunch is a cinnamon apple sundae!” Melanie confessed.

  Mr. Bradley laughed and said, “Well, I don’t want to keep you on the phone. Thanks for letting me know you’re safe. Have a good vacation, honey.”

  “Thanks Dad. I’ll talk to you soon,” Melanie replied, glad that she hadn’t revealed the unsettling details of their botched flight out of North Charleston. No need to worry her father when he was thousands of miles away.

  Keith emerged from the guest room wearing a bathrobe to match hers. “Love your bathrobe,” he quipped.

  “Yes, don’t I have great style?” She joked. Inwardly, she debated whether or not to press Keith about the bothersome messages that seemed to be persisting. As he made his way over to her with an intense regard on his face, she decided against it.

 

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