by Dawn McClure
After Terrance took off, John stared at the computer for another five minutes, and once again, he couldn’t concentrate. He bet Sophie wasn’t waiting for any receipts, but the damned do-gooder, Boy Scout part of him kept rearing its ugly head.
With a growl and a curse he snatched the receipts off the desk and yanked his jacket off the rack at the front of the store. Better to just get this errand done and over with.
_______
Mel was never going to stop shivering. The cold had seeped into the very marrow of her bones. Reason number one on why she no longer lived in South Dakota: it was damn cold. Obnoxiously cold. And she’d complained about it for the past half hour to her mom, who didn’t seem affected by the chilling temperature at all.
“Honey, it’s only in the twenties. It’s not that cold.” Her mom handed her a hot cup of coffee. The ceramic mug was wide-mouthed and eggshell in color. Every mug in the cafe was some shade of brown, beige or white. “Hopefully they find that other suitcase of yours, but until then I have a coat you can borrow. It’s a little light, but it’ll work.”
One suitcase lay in the trunk of Mel’s rented car. The other—unfortunately the one that contained the jacket she so desperately needed—was currently on a plane to Baltimore. At least that was what the airline had texted her a few moments before. “It’s on its way to Baltimore, but they said they’ll have it on the next flight back and then they’ll have it delivered to your house. Should be here by tomorrow evening at the latest.”
She’d tried to get all of her wardrobe to fit into one carry-on, but her knee-high boots and ankle boots had needed a suitcase all their own.
“That was fast.” Her mother leaned over the counter and took Mel’s hands in her own. “I’m so glad you’re home for Christmas. I made your favorite crockpot potato soup. It’ll be ready when we get home. And I have a few wreath projects I can’t wait to do with you.” A customer walked in from the cold and headed to the counter to order. “I’ll be right back, honey,” her mom said, giving her hands a squeeze before she released them.
Mel was reluctant to let go of her mom. Her mother hadn’t aged at all. The only difference Mel could see about her was her hair. It was shorter, resting just on top of her shoulders, and her mom had grown out her nineteen-eighties bangs finally, and swiped them to the right side of her face. She looked good. Beautiful. Guilt from not visiting threatened to snatch away the joy of the moment.
Mel glanced around the newly remodeled Espresso Café. Wreaths her mother made by hand hung on the wall, and she’d attached small, white price tags to each one with string. They were used as decorations for the café, but also available for purchase. “You have it decorated beautifully in here. No doubt you’ll win the Pine Grove Christmas Spirit plaque this year.” Christmas Eve on Main Street in Pine Grove was like another Halloween to all the kids in town.
Starting around four in the afternoon, all the businesses on Main opened for about two hours. A local fireman dressed as Santa Clause came down Main Street in a large fire truck, the sirens and lights blaring and blinking, and the kids absolutely loved it. They were allowed to climb onto the firetruck, which was also decorated with a few wreaths, and sit on his lap. Parents were allowed to take pictures while their children were busy telling Santa what they wanted for Christmas. The businesses along Main Street handed out candy, hot cocoa and roasted chestnuts to members of the community. The participating businesses were judged on which was decorated the best and given a plaque.
To participate, all the owner of the business had to do was hang a sprig of mistletoe in front of their door, to alert the city council members that they were competing.
Mel’s gaze was drawn to the front door, and to the mistletoe that hung just on the outside of it, where her mom had hung the sprig for the competition, but she quickly looked away. She couldn’t really see it anyway.
The town put on a good show every year, and Mel was more than thankful everything looked perfect in the café, because instead of that proposal to end her blog series about coming home, she’d had to convince Cindy that Christmas Eve in Pine Grove was magical. Mel had to come up with something great on Christmas Day as well, but she could worry about that later.
Hopefully that storm the couple next to her on the plane had been talking about missed Pine Grove. Sounded like it could get nasty.
Liam had decided to stick with his family this Christmas, so no Christmas proposal for her. Not that she hadn’t invited him, he just hadn’t accepted, and she was okay with that. His absence this Christmas would give her time to think about what she wanted from their relationship.
Her mom waited patiently from behind the register while the customer considered the numerous options that were written in colorful chalk on the giant black chalkboard on the wall. Fifty-two-years-old with the body of a twenty-something, her mother remained single. Mel had never understood that.
“That’s the plan,” her mom answered her while the customer thought through his order. “We remodeled, replaced and renovated until our hands and legs cramped. I’ve never won the plaque.” Her mother looked at her dubiously. “Even Harrison’s Hardware has won before.”
The customer chuckled, because Harrison’s Hardware smelled like oil and three men ran the place. Mel felt heat spread across her cheeks.
In this respect, her mother reminded her very much of Liam. They were both extremely competitive and hated to lose. Right after the customer stated his order and her mother began making his drink, Mel stood and pushed in her stool. “It’s so very rustic in here,” she mused. The decorations fit the visual Cindy was going for on the blog.
Mel quietly made her way to the large window at the front of the café, admiring the decorations as she passed. A real Douglass Fir stood proudly to the side of the window, burlap and plaid ribbon wrapped and tied within its branches. No colorful bulbs, only white LED lights that had more of a bluish tint to them than the old soft yellow bulbs. Simple and country.
A few wooden planks with rustic lettering and quotes were scattered around the café. They all had price tags attached with white string, just like the wreaths. Her mother had made all of them. A few wood boards spelled out Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow, and others simply said Merry Christmas. Several fake presents littered the floor under the tree, wrapped in brown sugar paper with brown twine wrapped around and tied at the top.
All so simple and yet so chic. Her brothers and her mother had outdone themselves. Mel wished she’d been there to help. She took her camera out and snapped a few shots. Her mother had made a business within a business, selling these signs and trinkets. When Mel’s dad had run out on her mom and the four kids, her mom had worked three jobs to keep Mel and her three brothers fed. Her mom was used to hard work. Mel had no doubt that she probably couldn’t sit still once she got home from work, and these crafts had kept her busy. Again, Mel wondered why her mother didn’t have a significant other, but it wasn’t her business and she wasn’t one to pry. She just hoped her mom wasn’t as jaded as Cindy, who absolutely refused to go on a simple date.
There were candles set on top of the mantle above a new electric fireplace. More burlap and some white lights strung in-between them. They cast a soft light that made you want to sink into the oversized, plaid chairs that were set up in front of the fireplace.
Yes, the decorations in the café were going to make a great first article for the blog. Melanie Edwards: Home for the Holidays. The atmosphere in the café was five star in a town that didn’t mind, and only hosted, two-star venues. The café was the perfect stretch between small town and big city, and it would appeal to people from both. “It really is beautiful here,” she whispered, getting caught up in memories she’d made in the Espresso Café when she was a kid.
Of course, back then, it hadn’t been so faux rustic and contemporary. For years the floor had only a cheap linoleum covering, and only recently had her mother peeled the linoleum back to lay laminate flooring that resembled real wood. Her
mom had sent her several pictures through text earlier in the year, but the expensive, laminate floor looked even better in person.
Mel took a few pictures of the presents, capturing both the rustic look of the floor and the beautiful, rich forest-green of the Douglas Fir. She took several shots of the candles on her cell, going for that soft glow of light that would look fantastic on Instagram. She used the hashtag nofilter, and stood in the middle of the café while admiring the pictures she’d taken. She tagged several of the pictures Home for the Holidays, and uploaded them to BDI’s Instagram. This is where I grew up, she added, hearing the door chime behind her, announcing a new customer.
She glanced out of the large picture window, through the lettering and Christmas decorations, to Harrison’s Hardware across the street. Well, the café was one of the places she’d grown up, but not the only place. The lights were still on in the hardware store, and she wondered if…no. He probably wasn’t there. It was nearly nine at night, and most of Main Street would be shutting down, including the café. Only the bar and a few restaurants would remain open.
It seemed that time had stood still in Pine Grove while she’d been making a life in Southern California, because the old Harrison Hardware sign, made from plexiglass from the sixties, sure hadn’t changed a bit. The same small hole in the plexiglass from when John had thrown her a softball was still there. She smiled. She doubted the boy she’d known was the same today.
She looked away from the hardware store and straightened her back. She’d called Liam when she’d landed at the airport, to let him know she’d arrived safe. He’d been in a meeting with potential buyers, so he hadn’t answered, only texted that he’d received her call and would call her in a bit. That had been over two hours ago.
She started to head back to the counter and her cup of coffee, feeling as though she’d been wrapped in the comforting scent of coffee beans and pine. She couldn’t quite recall the last time she’d felt so at home. So at peace.
That all shattered the second her gaze hit on the newest customer. He didn’t need to be facing her for her to recognize him. He was as familiar to her as any of her family members. Her mother’s high-pitched, completely unnecessary greeting meshed with the exact second of Mel’s own recognition.
“John, hi! Did you know? Mel’s home for Christmas!”
Chapter 3
The plan had been simple. Get in and get out of the quiet café without a big deal being made. But life was rarely simple, and it sure as hell never went according to plan.
It had been a while since John had last wanted to drop-kick his brother into next year, because truth be told, John didn’t want to see Mel. Not even a little.
Far from what his brother had been thinking, John would rather avoid her altogether. There was enough bitterness remaining from their past to make him want a speedy exit. But of course, like he’d originally feared, his inner Boy Scout had started kicking up dust. His moral obligation to deliver receipts that likely didn’t need to be delivered had overshadowed his common sense.
After Sophie’s excited, teeth-grinding announcement, he merely turned to Mel and gave her a stiff nod in greeting. Sophie must have missed the awkwardness that had blanketed the café, because she beamed at him when he turned back to her. He wished he could be just as oblivious. No such luck there. He’d have to be dead not to notice that Mel was absolutely breathtaking. Her chestnut hair was long and loose, curling down her shoulders and beyond, the ends more blonde than brown. Dark, ripped jeans and a tight red sweater…he clamped his jaw together and shoved the vision of her to the back of his mind.
Sophie continued to beam at him. “Are you and Mike still heading over on Saturday morning to help us move cattle? We need to get them closer to the barn before this storm hits. Sounds like the storm is getting worse as the days go by.”
Having just seen Mel again for the first time in years, John was reminded just how much she resembled her mother. Sophie was likely the mirror image of what Mel would look like in twenty or so years. Dark, thick hair, bright hazel eyes, full lips and a warm smile, she turned heads for sure. Men half Sophie’s age tried asking her on dates, and they had about the same luck as their older counterparts, which happened to be none. He never could figure why Sophie wouldn’t date.
It wasn’t his business though. “Yes ma’am.” He handed her the receipts his brother had given him minutes before. Mike was going to pay for being a pushy little prick. “Speaking of, Mike said he’d get these to you today, so here you are.” My job is done. I can leave now. By the way, your daughter broke my heart.
With Jessica’s departure, and the black hole Ben’s absence had left in his day-to-day life, John just wasn’t up to this unexpected meet and greet with Mel. All it did was remind him of how he’d felt when Mel had left Pine Grove, and that, on the heels of losing Ben, made him feel exponentially worse than he already did.
“Oh.” There was a pause as she frowned down at the receipts as though she were trying to figure out what they were for. “Great.”
Her reaction triggered a frown of his own, since that was the second John realized his brother really had been full of shit. John could tell by the look on Sophie’s face that she’d not been expecting these receipts, nor had she asked for them. Sophie and Mel were probably thinking that he’d made up some bullshit excuse to come over here to see her.
Well hell.
“I guess one of the boys bought something for the farm last week.” Sophie set the receipts down with a shrug, dismissing them altogether. “Say, let me get you a cup of coffee and you and Mel can catch up while I close down the café.”
“Actually I have to run.” I have cattle to feed. Chores to get done. A brother to kill.
“Oh, come on now. You two haven’t seen each other in years!” She grabbed a to-go cup off the shelf behind her. “I’m sure the two of you want to catch up over a nice, hot cup of coffee.”
No, that wasn’t something he wanted to do, but he wasn’t about to give a voice to that thought. Instead of pushing his way out the door, he accepted the coffee she handed him, gave Sophie his debit card even though she waved it off several times—a game she always lost—and turned to face the woman he wished he could ignore.
Mel smiled without showing teeth. He could almost imagine her with braces on, since she’d had them removed only weeks before she’d left for California.
Her hair was a little longer than she’d had it in high school, and there were several strands that were almost blonde. Highlights, he guessed. He’d never seen that light of a color in her hair before. His mother did the same to her brown hair. John didn’t see the point of it, but he just figured that’s what women did. Complicate things that didn’t need complicated.
Mel’s eyebrows were more sculpted, and her face was thinner, accentuating her high cheekbones. That spattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks that he’d come to love when they were younger were gone. He truly couldn’t understand why that observation struck him straight in the middle of his chest. Perhaps it was the physical proof that so much time had passed between two people who’d once been close as thieves.
“Sorry,” Mel said, giving him an apologetic smile. “She’s being a little pushy. You can leave, it’s no big deal.”
Mel couldn’t look him in the eyes for long. She found the Christmas decorations behind him much more interesting. He figured he’d end both of their torture by not staying for small talk.
“I really do have to get going,” he said by way of excusing himself.
Mel looked as relieved as he felt.
Thankfully Sophie had put his coffee in a to-go cup so he could make a quick exit. Maybe she’d felt the awkwardness more than she’d let on, and her way of giving him an out if he truly wanted one was through the to-go cup. Then again, Mel could have given her mother a dirty look when he’d had his back turned, or slashed her finger across her neck in warning. “I have some chores on the ranch I need to tend to before I can call it a day
.”
She nodded. “I understand. It was nice seeing you.”
He said nothing after the polite lie fell from her lips, and pushing down every question that came to mind as he stood in front of her, he turned to leave. Why did you stop taking my calls? Why haven’t you been home to visit more? Do you miss me at all?
He shot every last question down like cheap Tequila—fast and hard, with a heavy dose of determination—along with the pathetic lump in his throat. When he opened the door and left the café, he was sure he even made a face as though he’d sucked on a lemon. That relationship was dead and gone. Buried for years. Still, he knew damn good and well that if he hadn’t left the café he’d start falling again, because that’s how strong the pull was to Mel. He doubted he’d ever known someone as fun, mischievous and beautiful as Melanie Edwards.
He likely never would, and he’d come to terms with that over the years.
He looked down Main Street, which was mostly vacant. The vertical parking spots were empty, save for a lone car here and there that belonged to a shop owner who was still shuffling around their store and cleaning up. Down the road a bit farther there were four trucks parked in front of Pine Grove’s bar. Craig Jameson, a recently divorced farmer, was just getting out of his truck to head into the bar, probably to grab a beer and drown his sorrows. Craig waved at him. He waved back.
Guess it could be worse.
John crossed the street, his boots a dull, steady thud against the cold, cracked pavement. Once in the alleyway the somewhat new, non-packed snow crunched under his boots as he started down the narrow space between the hardware store and the bank. He always parked in the back of the store, and instead of going through the store and out the back, he just cut through the alley even though the snow was a little deep and came up about mid-calf. His jeans would be a little stiff, but he didn’t mind.
Damn, Mel had looked good. Gone was the innocent freckle-faced girl with braces. In her place was a sophisticated, independent woman who still had a bit of a shy streak.