Memories Under the Mistletoe

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Memories Under the Mistletoe Page 6

by Dawn McClure


  Her mom’s answering smile spoke more than Mel wanted to hear. She’d known her mother would take the fact that John offered her a jacket the wrong way. “Mom, it’s not a big deal.”

  “The hell it isn’t,” Cindy said, having followed along on the other end of the line.

  “We’ll see,” was her mother’s more toned-down version.

  Still, both were saying the same thing, but they were the ones romanticizing the past now. She glanced back at the hardware store across the street before she followed her mother back into the café. The streetlights were on, and they cast a yellowish glow to the buildings.

  Seeing John had stirred up memories, but nothing else. And wasn’t that exactly what Cindy said it would do? John wasn’t the teenager that made her feel butterflies anymore. He was simply a man who’d offered her a jacket because hers was on a flight to Baltimore. That was all.

  “I’ll call you later,” she promised Cindy, but before she ended their call she teased, “Oh, just FYI. He’s not fat in the least, he’s built like the country boy he is, there’s no bald spot but he does have a beard, has no children as far as I know, and I’m pretty sure he’s single.” She ended the call with a smile as she pushed into the teal door of the café.

  As she grabbed her purse off the counter she caught a glimpse of herself in one of the large, ornate mirrors hanging on the wall.

  Good Lord Almighty, she looked a sight. Large camo jacket, hair wind-whipped, face red. She almost looked like she had when she’d stepped off the plane in California. One look at her and you knew she was from the country.

  But she wasn’t that girl anymore. And John, no matter how considerate and chivalrous, wasn’t the boy she’d once loved.

  Chapter 4

  John headed into his two-story fixer-upper through the back door, hungry and tired after taking care of his livestock, and feeling about as old as he ever had. Seeing Mel had been like coming home after a long, tedious journey and receiving the warmth of a familiar embrace. The brief contact with Mel had left him tugging at memories he’d long since let go of.

  He stopped just inside the kitchen and rubbed his eyes. What was wrong with him? Now that the unexpected meet and greet was over, his mind was trying to romanticize what had happened.

  Truth was, seeing Mel had been awkward as hell from start to finish.

  He stopped rubbing his temples and glanced around his bare kitchen and the brand-new marble countertops he’d installed, dark and glossy in the dim light, and wished he’d see Ben come barreling down the staircase like he used to do when he’d come home from work. Ben’s jet-black hair a wild mess, and usually in his pajamas already, Ben would launch himself at John and proceed to tell him all about his day. As John stood there staring in the direction of the stairs, he could practically feel the impact of Ben’s greeting.

  Jessica hadn’t been much of a cook, but she’d been a damn sight better at throwing something together than he was. He could almost smell the aromas of her passable country cooking now. Maybe some fried chicken with a potato salad. Sure, sometimes the potatoes hadn’t always been cooked through, but it sure beat coming home to nothing. Or a simmering roast in the crockpot with carrots, onions and potatoes served with a thick, homemade gravy. She’d been pretty good at crockpot meals.

  Instead he was met with silence and the chill of a house that sat empty all day.

  Damn he missed that eight-year-old energetic, fearless kid more than he’d ever thought possible.

  He shoved those painful thoughts aside and reflected on the prodigal daughter. But unlike the prodigal son, Mel wasn’t staying. She was only visiting.

  Yeah, seeing Mel had felt like coming home, but certainly not to this lonely house. Seeing her felt more like the feeling he got when walking through his parents’ door on Christmas Eve. The acidic, distinct smell of pine from the tree and the fresh garland his mom liked to hang on the staircase handrailing. The thick, delicious aroma of a turkey with all the fixins’. That warm welcome that drew you in and made you want to stay a while with a hot cup of coffee in your hand. Seeing Mel was like that. Always had been.

  “You’re an idiot,” he said, his voice echoing inside his empty house, the vision of that holiday scene fading away as he dropped his wallet and keys on the kitchen island. Peanut butter and jelly. That’d be easy to make. Easy to clean up. He glanced at the clock on the microwave. Nearing midnight.

  Ben would have been asleep anyway.

  Other than when Mel dropped off that jacket he’d loaned her, he’d probably not see her again during her visit to Pine Grove. Maybe a glimpse on Saturday, when he helped move her mom’s cattle. Tim, George and Brian would probably be there ready to roll, but he doubted she’d help. In fact, he’d bet his small ranch that she wasn’t going to brave the cold temperatures to round up a few head of cattle. Which was good. He wasn’t sure he wanted to deal with her and the feelings her presence dredged up.

  He just couldn’t seem to get Mel out of his thoughts. When she’d stood in front of him, cold and shivering there on the sidewalk, his instinct had been to warm her. But now that he’d had time to think about it, lending her that jacket had not only kept her warm, but she was now honor-bound to bring it back.

  No doubt he was thinking so much about her because it hurt less to think about an old wound than to keep throwing salve on the new one created by Ben’s absence. Yeah. That’s why he was thinking about her so much. She was a distraction.

  He took his cell out of his jacket pocket and slipped out of his worn coat, then draped it over a chair. He checked his cell before setting it on the table. He’d almost talked himself into calling Jessica back. What if something had happened to Ben? What if he’d been hurt? But he quickly shot that worry down. She’d have texted him if that were the case. Actually, she probably wouldn’t have texted him unless she needed something from him. If her situation was really bad, she would have texted. She was likely testing out the waters because being with her former boyfriend wasn’t all sunshine and roses like she’d thought it was going to be.

  No, he wasn’t going to call her. He was going to leave that family alone. He prayed Ben’s biological father had extracted his head out of his ass and would do right by his family now. His screw-up had led to John being a dad for a little over a year, and eventually to the heartbreak of letting go of a kid he’d come to love. A child he wanted to protect from the harsh realities of the world.

  But he wasn’t Ben’s biological dad, and he had no say in his welfare. He had to let this go or drive himself crazy.

  He slapped some peanut butter and jelly on a few slices of wheat bread, grabbed a pop out of the fridge, and headed into the living room to kick back and watch some news. No doubt he’d fall asleep in that old Lazy-Boy that sat in front of the television. He fell asleep that way more often than not. Only tonight he’d no doubt be thinking of Mel even after he shut his eyes.

  How could you miss someone you’d only talked to for five minutes after a seven-year absence?

  “Because you’re an idiot,” he mumbled again and grabbed the remote.

  _______

  Liam slipped his credit card back into his wallet, grabbed his glass of scotch, and padded down the hallway toward the master bath of his condo. He needed to soak his aching muscles. He’d shown four different houses to a purchaser today who seemed to have no intention of making a decision, nor pay out the prices for the homes Liam had shown. So often people wanted the moon but could only afford a paper mâché rendition of it when it came to their future home.

  Well, he hated to be the voice of common sense to people who had none, but houses cost money, and if you didn’t want to pay up you could head on over to the realtor on Nicholson Street who sold houses in the neighborhoods Liam refused to go. Why would anyone want to chince on the house they were going to live in? It literally made no sense to him.

  Some things in life you didn’t low-ball. Houses were one of them. Marriage another. At least he’d bought the p
lane ticket to go see Melanie on Christmas morning, and he could rest on that issue now that it was resolved. He hated when things didn’t go as planned, which was why he’d bought a round-trip ticket to South Dakota. He’d had plans on proposing to Melanie on Christmas morning and that’s exactly what he intended to do. In front of his family or hers, it didn’t much matter. The end result was the same. He wasn’t about to chince on the woman who would soon become the mother of his children.

  He flipped the light on in the bathroom and stretched his arms above his head on the way to the bathtub. He needed a massage. Someone to rub the knots out of his upper back.

  Turning the stainless-steel knob to start the hot water, he suppressed a yawn. He’d even planned the date of their wedding. June sixth, with a honeymoon in Italy, France and Germany. She’d mentioned she’d always wanted to go to Hawaii for her honeymoon, but he wasn’t even going to entertain that idea. They could always have the beach, living in SoCal as they did. He wanted something a little more for his future wife than the cheap thrill of Hawaii, which was nothing but a tourist trap. She’d never been out of the country, only South Dakota and California. He’d introduce her to some much-needed culture. She’d love it. A gondola ride in Venice, gelato in Naples, staying at a villa in Germany.

  He smiled to himself and poured some Epsom salt into his bath. Melanie was as small town as they came, and he was quite certain that was why he fell in love with her. She wasn’t jaded, like most of the women he knew. Still wide-eyed and innocent, even after a few years in the big city, made her stand out. Sweet, even-tempered—for a woman. Sure, she threw her fits, but that was to be expected. He was used to it, having been raised with two sisters along with two brothers.

  But Melanie was different. She’d caught his eye, and unlike most women, had held it for more than a month. The next logical step in their relationship was engagement. He knew exactly why she was always dragging her feet when it came to the advancement of their relationship. It was because her deadbeat dad had bailed on his family. She didn’t trust men. And because of all those man-haters she worked with at that chick magazine, she didn’t trust the sanctity of marriage.

  He couldn’t relate to having come from a broken home, because he’d been raised in a loving home. His parents were Christian, and they believed in a strong family unit, and at the base of any family was a strong marriage. They had pounded that philosophy into his head from an early age. His father expected him to get married, preferably before he hit thirty, to an educated, affluent woman, and since pleasing his father boosted your name to the top of the company, that’s what Liam planned on doing. Hell, he’d been planning out his life since middle school. He knew the rungs on the ladder and which step he should be on at any given age, and Melanie was that next step.

  He turned the water off and slipped into his bath. Taking a sip of scotch, he allowed himself to relax before another busy day tomorrow.

  Everything was in place. All she had to do was say yes.

  Chapter 5

  There was no returning the coat now. It was absolutely ruined.

  “To the left, to the left!” Mel’s brother Tim shouted, veins popping out in his neck.

  His look of intensity forced Mel to pick up her speed and veer right to avoid Brian’s tackle. Why did her brothers take stupid games to the next level? As though the outcome of the game was life or death? This wasn’t the Superbowl for crying out loud.

  Never failed. Any time she had the football and was running toward the goal, she ran as fast as her legs would carry her, because she knew it was coming: the tackle to end all tackles. One of her brothers was going to absolutely cream her, and they weren’t so little anymore. Scared the shit out of her really.

  George was blocking Tim, which left her completely open and vulnerable to Brian, who could run a hell of a lot faster than she could. And he wouldn’t take it easy on her. They never did.

  She didn’t make it to the end zone, which consisted of two five-gallon buckets spread out about six feet apart, but then she’d known she wasn’t going to make it.

  Brian tackled her so hard from behind her teeth rattled in her head when their bodies hit the ground simultaneously. Dirt, snow and God only knew what else embedded into her borrowed jacket as she and Brian skidded to a halt on their sides. She was going to need to visit her chiropractor for an alignment.

  “And she’s down!” he roared in her ear, earning him a good elbow to his ribs. “Ow!” he cried.

  “Jesus H., Brian! I’m not an NFL linebacker,” Mel grouched, dropping the ball and staggering to her feet. She checked to make sure nothing was broken by running her hands over her limbs. He’d wrapped his arms around her torso in a vice-grip to bring her crashing to the ground, and he hadn’t exactly been going easy on her. Her brothers never had when they’d grown up together, and they sure as hell weren’t going to start now.

  Moving her arms and flexing her fingers, she deduced that her Neanderthal of a brother hadn’t broken any of her bones, but damn, the jacket she’d borrowed at John’s insistence had taken a beating. She was going to have to pay for it now, even though she had no intention of wearing the monstrosity once her own jacket arrived.

  “Brush it off, Freckles. You’re fine.” He gave her a playful shove and she ended up stumbling over her feet and nearly falling.

  Freckles. She hadn’t heard that nickname in years. She always put enough concealer on her face to blot them out completely. She doubted Liam had ever seen them. She punched Brian in the arm as hard as she could, but her brother didn’t even cringe. Brush it off. How many times had she heard that growing up? Too many to count—and she had the scars to prove it. Those words were usually a prelude to, Please don’t tell mom. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Stop crying, you’re fine. It’s just a little blood.

  Still, she hadn’t felt this invigorated before eight in the morning in years. The sun had risen only a half an hour ago, but she’d already had a hearty breakfast of bacon, sausage, eggs and toast with her family. They’d headed outside to feed cattle shortly after they’d had their hot cups of coffee, and soon found themselves playing this impromptu game of football. It didn’t take much to make them all act like they were ten again. George had seen the football lying by the front doors of the barn, and that’s when the shenanigans had started. First a few tosses back and forth in the barn—of course it bounced off her head once from George’s throw—and then Brian and Tim had challenged her and George to a quick game. Suffice to say, she and George just lost.

  She’d missed this place. It had taken coming home to remember what it was like to have family around. And the land? Gorgeous. Acres of fields and dirt roads covered in a thin blanket of snow. A mood-setting sheet of fog that enveloped her mother’s land had rolled in this morning. The atmosphere made Mel want to cuddle up with a blanket and enjoy the quiet peacefulness of a cold South Dakota morning.

  Instead she was getting pummeled in a football game.

  She’d missed her brothers, too, when they weren’t smashing her into the ground.

  Tim, the oldest of their clan at thirty years old, had settled down with a wife and two kids before he’d hit his mid-twenties. He seemed happy, and he hadn’t changed much at all. Where some men his age started to show a little wear in their hairline, he still had a full head of hair. He had his own farming land a little farther north, but he always helped mom whenever she needed it. In fact, he’d drop whatever he was doing on his own land and come running.

  George was twenty-eight, only two years older than her. She hated to admit it to herself, because it seemed somehow unfair, but she was closest to him. Probably because he’d been her older brother in high school and he’d taken it upon himself to make damn sure she stayed out of trouble. Popping up at house parties, pulling up in his truck at bonfires she’d been invited to. He’d been a pain in her ass, but looking back now, she couldn’t help but appreciate his big brother effort. He’d almost stepped into the father role in the house when Tim
had left.

  He was also a hardcore runner, and he looked like it. Tall and thin, he had the same body he’d had as a teenager. Being a cop probably helped.

  She wished she had the same body she’d had in high school, but she wasn’t about to take up jogging. Yoga would have to suffice.

  And then there was Brian, the runt of the family. He was much shorter than his two older brothers, and it was obvious he tried to make up for it in personality. Loud and obnoxious, he’d gotten into trouble more than any of them. He’d toned down now that he was out of college, but he’d obviously taken to going back to the gym again. He may be shorter than the others, but he was thick with muscle. And he was the go-getter of the family. Only twenty-four and he’d already started his own business in Sioux Falls. A coffee shop much like their mother’s Espresso Café.

  “So,” Tim said, nudging her in the back. “Mom told me you ran into John Harrison yesterday. Did the teenage girl inside get all flustered?”

  George barked out a laugh before she could respond to Tim. “Man, I remember those days. John this and John that.” He’d raised his voice in what she figured was an extremely bad version of how she’d once sounded. “That boy could do no wrong in Mel’s eyes.”

  “Yeah,” Brian said, wiping some snow off his jacket. “Whatever happened to you two? Just grew apart?”

  She shrugged, not wanting to get into it. But she knew her brothers better than anyone, and they would rib her if she didn’t answer. They’d probably start joking that John found someone in college who really did it for him, or something like that, and that’d hit too close to home for her. “Yeah, we grew apart when he went to college.” Wanting the attention off her and John, she glanced at Brian. “What about you and Macy? You two have been dating for a couple of months. Is she a keeper?”

  She’d only meant to turn the conversation away from her, so everyone would gang up on Brian, but her brother got a faraway look on his face she’d never seen before. Then a slow smile spread over his features. “I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

 

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