When Melissa arrived at Delia’s the house was full of kids and noise. Delia hugged her and said, “Isn’t it wonderful?”
Melissa did indeed think it was wonderful, but she wasn’t in the mood to celebrate. Selfishly, she just wanted to hide somewhere and have a self-pity party.
There was an old cigar box on the kitchen table; she took it down the hall to her room and sat on the bed with it. Patrick knew she had a weakness for old cigar boxes, just like the one she had kept her treasures in when she was a little girl. Treasures to her back then would have been trash to anyone else, but she didn’t get presents, and on Christmas, she might get one thing if her aunt could find it cheap enough at a rummage sale.
Something rattled in the box, so she opened it. Inside was a tiny metal replica of her blue Mustang, a Matchbox car that Patrick had treasured as a boy. He must have been cleaning out his room at his mother’s house and found it.
Patrick had always wanted a vintage blue Mustang and had been more excited than Melissa about finding one for her and fixing it up. She wasn’t dumb; she knew he had picked that particular car to give to her because that meant he could have it. But she loved him so much, it was natural to want him to have something he dreamed of having.
There was no note.
As she held the little car, noticing the edges where the paint had been worn off by the little boy version of Patrick, tears formed in her eyes and spilled over. She allowed herself to acknowledge the deep longing she felt, the loneliness that was tormenting her. She missed him so much. He knew her so well. How could she go through life without those arms around her, that strong, protective embrace where she felt cared for, where she belonged?
Right now, the fact of Ava didn’t seem to matter as much.
She had known for years that Patrick was in love with Ava. Even after he knew what Ava was capable of; how easily she took advantage of Scott and Maggie’s breakup to snag Scott for herself in order to shore up her reputation; how content she was to keep her relationship with Patrick a secret; and how willing she was to marry someone else just for his money; still, Patrick remained devoted.
Apparently, he could forgive her anything.
He loved Melissa, too, she knew, just in a different compartment in his heart–a smaller one, no doubt, under the stairs with Harry Potter. If she could bring herself to share him with Ava, if she could find a way to accept that flaw in him, to look the other way, could she then be sure to always have him?
Right now, as lonely as she felt, as much as she longed for him, it didn’t seem like that big of a deal. Other women did it. They just didn’t talk about it. If she took him back, she would be right back in the heart of his family where they all loved her and hated Ava.
It felt safe there.
She deserved to be a part of that family. She had earned his devotion. She was good for him, and he fulfilled her needs: to be accepted, cared for, to belong. It had always been Patrick for her; but could she accept him for the flawed man that he was?
She felt a small flame of hope flare up, just thinking about taking him back. Maybe all this hurt and embarrassment could be put aside. Maybe she just needed to expand her belief in what a relationship should be. She just had to overlook this one flaw in an otherwise perfectly good man.
She would marry him. Maybe they’d have a child right away. Ava would never be able to take him away from a family. She would make him a family. She would get him to stay.
Melissa heard Hannah arrive. She didn’t want to talk to anybody about her decision, least of all Hannah or Claire, whom she knew would look at her with pity. Feeling ashamed and foolish, she slipped out the bedroom window and made her way to the little house at the trailer park. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts, which felt fragile and vulnerable. If she was going to talk herself into doing something dangerous, and possibly doomed, she couldn’t afford to have anyone interrupt that process.
At the little house, she was surprised to find the door lock pried open, and even more surprised to find Ava’s daughter, Charlotte, sitting inside.
“Sorry,” she said when Melissa gasped. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go, and I don’t want my mom to know I’m home.”
Melissa’s heart raced, and to her surprise, she felt almost as afraid as she had been when she ran into Ava behind the B&B. It was probably because Charlotte, at nineteen, was the spitting image of her beautiful mother, causing suspicion and fear to prick Melissa like a million tiny needles.
“What are you doing here?” Melissa asked her.
She stayed in the doorway with the door open, not willing to be alone with Charlotte or without an escape route.
“Close the door,” Charlotte said. “It’s freezing.”
“I don’t think so,” Melissa said. “This is my house, and you broke and entered. That ain’t right. That’s against the law.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes.
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch,” Charlotte said. “I just needed a place to crash until my mom leaves for Europe. After that I can stay at Will’s place; the cleaning lady will let me in.”
“Were you staying in the garage apartment behind the B&B?” Melissa asked her.
“You heard about that, huh?” Charlotte said. “I dropped a bottle right on that fat old man’s bald head, scared him to death. I made them think the place was haunted.”
“Getting those folks to move out won’t put everything back the way you want it,” Melissa said. “Ain’t no way your mom’s leaving Will and moving back in there.”
“We were happy there before Will came,” Charlotte said. “He ruined everything.”
“You’re grown up now,” Melissa said. “It’s time for you to make your own life the way you want it, and let your mother have what she wants.”
“What she wants is Patrick,” Charlotte said, and then smiled slyly at Melissa.
“Then that’s between her and Patrick,” Melissa said.
“Except you want him, too, right?” Charlotte said. “He might feel sorry for you, and he might be fooled by your sweet lil ole honey chile way of talking, but you will never hold a candle to my mother. They have something you will never have.”
“That’s between Patrick and me,” Melissa said. “That ain’t none of your business.”
Charlotte had been sitting with her hands under the small kitchen table, but now she drew them out from underneath to reveal the knife she was holding. She pointed it at Melissa.
“Oh, I think it is,” Charlotte said. “You know I killed that old guy, right? What makes you think I wouldn’t kill you, too?”
Melissa turned quickly to leave and leaped right into Johnny Johnson’s arms.
“Woah, there,” he said. “What’s your hurry?”
Melissa’s heart was thumping. She turned back and pointed at the little house just as Charlotte appeared in the doorway, a backpack slung over her shoulder.
“I’m leaving now,” she said to Melissa. “Thanks, y’all, for the southern hospitality.”
She said this in an exaggerated southern accent, obviously making fun of Melissa.
“You clear on out of here,” Melissa said. “If I ever see you near my home again I’ll take a ball bat to you, I don’t care who you are.”
“Does Patrick know about him?” Charlotte asked, pointing at Johnny.
“I think you better leave,” Johnny said, “before we call the law.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes and flipped them her middle finger before turning and walking away. Ava’s old van was parked behind Spurlock’s Feed and Seed, and they watched Charlotte get into it and drive away.
“What was that about?” Johnny asked.
“Come in,” Melissa said. “I’ll tell you all about it.”
Johnny examined the door where it had been pried it open and pronounced it fixable. While he repaired it, Melissa used her cell phone to order pizza and soft drinks to be delivered. She then searched the premises for anything Charlotte might have left be
hind. Finally, they sat down across from each other at the small table.
“Who was that little monster?” he asked her.
“It’s such a long story,” she said.
“I’ve got nothing better to do,” he said. “I came all the way to town to check on you, to see how you’re getting along. You are now obligated to entertain me, and that’s what will entertain me best.”
Melissa told him her whole story, how she kidnapped Tommy, how she came to Rose Hill, and how she had fallen in love with Patrick the first time she laid eyes on him. Meanwhile, the food arrived, and she kept talking, occasionally interrupted by a thoughtful question from Johnny. When she told him about discovering Patrick was cheating on her with Ava, her eyes welled up with tears.
“I don’t know why I’m telling you all this,” she said. “You must think you done got trapped by a crazy lady.”
“To me, the only thing crazy is how Patrick could prefer anyone over you,” Johnny said. “I think you’re better off without the guy.”
“I know everyone thinks that,” she said. “I can’t help how I feel, though.”
“Ah, feelings,” Johnny said. “I am familiar with those. They can get you in all sorts of trouble.”
“Why do people cheat?” she asked him.
“Because they lack character,” Johnny said. “Honor, loyalty, true faith, and allegiance; those are huge responsibilities that are not easy to uphold. Weak people can’t be bothered to try.”
“I know I’ll never be able to trust him,” she said. “I just can’t imagine my life without him in it.”
“So, you’ve made your decision, then.”
“I think I have to give it one more try,” she said. “Then I’ll at least know I did my best.”
“I think I know how this will end,” he said. “But who knows? Maybe you are the one woman who can change a man. I can see why a person would want to change for you. Here I am in town for the second time in a week.”
“I’m sorry,” Melissa said.
“Don’t be,” Johnny said. “I admire your devotion. I just hope he’s worthy of it.”
“Tell me about you,” Melissa said. “How come you gotta live so far out in the woods?”
“Whilst serving my country I had what you might call a series of eventful experiences,” he said. “When I came back, I determined that what was best for me, and probably for all those around me, as well, was for me to attempt to have a series of uneventful experiences. See this?”
He held up his hands and Melissa could see the tremor.
“That came back with me,” he said. “When life gets too stressful, I can’t cope. I fall apart. I find my little house in the big woods soothing; I feel safe there.”
“But here you are.”
“Here I am.”
Johnny told Melissa about some of the things that had happened while he was in Afghanistan: battles he fought, friends he lost, and the unrelenting terror he felt every day and night, with little relief.
“Ultimately it turned me into a weapon with no safety on the trigger,” he said. “I don’t want to hurt anyone else, not for any reason.”
It was cozy and warm in the little house because Johnny had lit the stove. Johnny smelled like wood smoke and something else, something she couldn’t pinpoint but that was very pleasing to Melissa’s nose. While they were talking, he had shifted his long legs, and now one rested against Melissa’s. His big hands lay on the table in front of him when he wasn’t gesturing or scratching his beard. His smile was so warm, so sweet.
As he talked, she felt herself allowing the growing attraction to bloom. She looked at Johnny’s mouth and imagined kissing it, his rough beard again her soft skin, those powerful hands on her body, those lips on her …
“I’ve got to go,” she said.
She unintentionally knocked his leg sideways as she stood up. All of a sudden it felt so hot in the small space. She either needed to tear all her clothes off or flee into the cold night.
“Do you?” he asked.
The look in his eyes told her he was also painfully aware of the magnetic force field between them.
“I do,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
He stood up, and he seemed to fill the whole house.
“Don’t be sorry,” he said. “It’s a difficult thing you’re aiming to do, and I admire you for trying. I hope you will keep in touch, and let me know how it goes.”
He held out his hand to her, and she knew before she touched it what would happen, but the snap of electricity still made her jump. He smiled at her, from a mischievous quirk of the lips to a sparkle in his light lake-colored eyes.
“I’ve lost count,” he said.
Johnny left and Melissa, energized by her decision, compelled by the overwhelming need to see Patrick, to reunite with him, to not waste one more minute, locked up the little house and hurried up Peony Street to Rose Hill Avenue, to the entrance to the Rose and Thorn.
Outside, she could hear the traditional fiddle music and light from the interior shown out onto the sidewalk. She took a deep breath, opened the door, and entered the bar. There were six regulars at the bar, and half the booths and tables were full of tourists and college kids. Hannah was delivering a pitcher to a table. Sam waved to her from behind the bar.
Where was Patrick?
“Hey, chickie mama,” Hannah said when Melissa reached her. “What’re you doin’ here?”
“Where’s Patrick?” Melissa asked, ignoring the locals who were now vying for her attention.
Hannah gave Melissa a look that was equal parts embarrassment, pity, and compassion.
“Where is he, Hannah?” Melissa asked again.
“I don’t know,” Hannah said and ceased eye contact. “He had to go out for a little bit. Said he’d be back by ten.”
Melissa looked at the clock over the bar; it was ten-thirty.
Melissa went behind the counter and wrapped an apron around her waist.
“What are you doing?” Hannah asked.
“I’m helping you out,” Melissa said. “Shame on him for leaving you two with this many people.”
“I’ll go,” Sam said and left as quickly as possible.
“This crowd?” Hannah said. “This is nothing. I’m a professional expectations adjustor. They want drinks? They have to wait till I bring ’em. That’s not a problem, that’s a teachable moment.”
Melissa busied herself taking orders and delivering drinks while Hannah bartended. It had been over six years since she had waited tables but it felt like yesterday. If she and Patrick got back together, she would have to be here, by his side, working together, living together. There would be no opportunities for indiscretions if she were always nearby to keep an eye on him.
So what if Ava had bought the building next door? Melissa had never been keen on running a restaurant, and now she’d never have to. She could work with Sean all day and work in here with Patrick all evening. It would mean long hours and sore feet, but if she was determined to make this work that would be a sacrifice she was willing to make.
What about the little house Johnny had built for her? She could sell it; they would buy his folks’ house, fix it up, and live there. She could still purchase the mobile home park and sell little houses; she would just not live there.
She thought about Johnny; that had been an intense attraction, a whirlwind of feelings for someone she didn’t even know very well. She told herself it was nothing compared to what she felt for Patrick. It had been some sort of a test, maybe. And he lived way out in the woods, anyway. Melissa could not see herself living in such isolation; she’d go crazy. No, Johnny was definitely out.
As Melissa sorted out in her head what her life would be like with Patrick back in it, trying to reconcile what she wanted with what he wanted, she felt good; she felt like she had a direction in which she was excited to be going.
By 11:00 pm all the tables, booths and stools were filled, the noise was deafening, and Patrick had not returned.
“Where did he say he was going?” she asked Hannah.
“He didn’t,” Hannah said.
“Is Ava back?” Melissa asked.
Hannah shrugged.
“I really don’t know,” she said.
Melissa focused on serving the customers and tried not to worry.
At 1:30 am Hannah called time and kicked everyone out. She turned off the music, and the silence seemed to ring in the air.
“Call him,” Melissa said.
“I’ve texted him every fifteen minutes since ten p.m.,” Hannah said. “He’s not responding.”
Melissa took out her phone and called him. Surely if he saw her number, he would answer. It went to voicemail, and she ended the call rather than leave a message.
“Tell me the truth, Hannah,” Melissa said. “Did he leave with some bimbo?”
Hannah sighed and put up her hands in surrender.
“He was flirting with a blonde when I got here, but you know him, he flirts with any double x chromosome with a pulse,” Hannah said. “She left before he did. I don’t know that one thing had to do with the other.”
“Did he seem upset or worried?”
“No, not at all,” Hannah said.
Melissa filled the mop bucket and added the oil soap. As she mopped, she thought about where Patrick might be.
If Ava was back, he might have gone to meet her. If he was with some random pickup, he could be anywhere. Either possibility was reasonable. Patrick was a flirty, sexually-tuned-in man. If he thought it was over with Melissa, he would turn to someone else – not for love – but for sex.
Melissa was irritated but not defeated. Once he knew he could come back to her, all that would stop. She would just have to make herself more available. After working all day and all evening she would probably be tired, but she would just have to make an effort. She didn’t know how she could do all that and still have the energy to clean or grocery shop or spend time with friends and family, but if she wanted Patrick back, that was what she would do.
Work all day, work all evening, keep an eye on him as much as possible, and satisfy him in bed even if she didn’t feel like it. A worn out, sexually satisfied man was a faithful man, right? She’d also have to keep tabs on him while she was working at Sean’s during the day; maybe she could take him lunch every day and make surprise afternoon visits when she had time. She could put a GPS on his truck and track him with her phone like Will tracked Ava.
Pumpkin Ridge (Rose Hill Mystery Series Book 10) Page 23