Brunch at Bittersweet Café

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Brunch at Bittersweet Café Page 25

by Carla Laureano


  It was almost the same procedure as takeoff, just in reverse. They taxied back to the hangar, where he shut down the engine and started his final checklist. Justin tossed her his car keys so she could move the SUV out while he pushed the plane back in.

  “Back to your house now?” he asked when he’d gone through his whole postflight routine.

  “Probably a good idea. Thanks again, Justin. I had fun.”

  “So did I.” He smiled at her as he moved to open the passenger door. As soon as he shut the door behind her, her phone beeped. A missed message. The call must have come in when they were still too high for a cell signal.

  Melody punched the button to dial voice mail and held her phone to her ear.

  Rachel’s voice poured through the line, tense and frazzled. “Melody, where are you? I’m in the middle of a class and the contractor just called to tell me you never showed up! Are you okay? What happened? You were supposed to be there to let him in at nine! Call me.”

  The blood drained from Melody’s face, and she swayed along with the sudden, dull thrum of her pulse. Justin stared at her. “Melody? Is everything okay?”

  She hung up and pressed her hand to her forehead. “I’m in so much trouble. I was supposed to be at the bakery first thing this morning to let in the contractor.”

  Justin winced. “Is Rachel furious?”

  “When she finds out I wasn’t hit by a car, yeah, she’s going to be mad.” Melody let her head fall back against her seat. How had she let that slip her mind?

  Because she’d been completely focused on Justin, that’s how. When she was with him, everything else took a backseat.

  “Mel, I’m really sorry. I had no idea. It’s my fault.”

  She shook her head. “No, it’s not. It was my responsibility, and I completely forgot. I would have rescheduled or had Rachel make other arrangements.”

  “She’ll understand, though, won’t she? It’s not like you planned to be stuck overnight in the mountains.”

  “Maybe.” But Rachel never forgot things like this, not when it had to do with work. Only Melody would blow off the important first step in their renovation because she was out with a guy.

  Justin reached over and squeezed her hand, but he didn’t try to reassure her. When they pulled up in front of her apartment building, she said, “You can just drop me off here. I’m going straight to my car. Rachel should be home by now. I have to go see if I can grovel my way out of this.”

  “Call me later and tell me how it turned out.” He leaned across the console and kissed her gently. When he lifted his head, he was looking at her with an expression that made her want to sigh with happiness, even through her dread. He meant it. He wanted to hear the outcome of a disagreement with a friend because it mattered to her. Was it any wonder that she was falling for him?

  “Wish me luck.”

  “Good luck.”

  She threw him a smile and climbed out of the car, slinging her bag over her shoulder, then half-jogged to her Jeep parked a few spots in front of his. As she levered herself up into the driver’s seat of the vehicle, Melody couldn’t shake the feeling that her coach had just turned back into a pumpkin.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  MELODY MADE THE DRIVE to Rachel’s house in frustratingly slow stop-and-go traffic, praying that this wasn’t a waste of time. For all she knew, Rachel wasn’t even there, and Melody would have to sit on the front porch and wait.

  But when she climbed the steps of the Victorian house and rapped on the front door, the blurry figure of her friend appeared behind the stained-glass panel almost immediately.

  Rachel swung the door open, her eyes wide. “Melody! There you are! I was getting so worried. First you didn’t show up at the restaurant and then you didn’t return my call? What happened?”

  Melody rushed inside and shut the door behind her. “I am so sorry, Rachel. I swear to you, I didn’t mean to flake out. Justin flew me to the mountains for the day yesterday, but the winds came up—”

  Rachel’s expression shifted. “You were with Justin? I thought you two had called it quits.”

  “We did, but we sorted it out. He wanted to take me someplace special, but we were supposed to be back last night. And then it got too windy to take off, so we had to stay the night and come back this morning.”

  “Then why didn’t you just call me? I could have had Ana go over and open it . . . or I could have had someone cover my class. Or something.”

  Melody grimaced. She didn’t even have a good excuse. “I’m so sorry. I completely forgot. I know that’s a horrible reason, but it’s the truth. Were you able to reschedule for later this week?”

  “No, I couldn’t.” Rachel made her way to the couch, where she curled her legs up beneath her. “The soonest he can get out is next Thursday. You have no idea how much I had to beg to get him here today in the first place. This is going to set us back at least two weeks.”

  Melody sank into a chair adjacent to the sofa. “I’m sorry, Rachel. I never meant to let you down.”

  Rachel fixed her with a hard stare. “Melody, this isn’t a game. We’ve got a lot riding on this, and every week we delay costs us more money. I need to know you’re committed and you’re not going to just throw me over for some guy.”

  Guilt flooded her. Rachel was right. She had dropped the ball. But it wasn’t Justin’s fault, and it wasn’t like she’d intentionally bailed to go on a date with a random man. “Rach, he’s not just some guy. I think I’m falling for him.”

  “And you decided this after how long? A couple of days? A week?”

  Heat rushed to Melody’s face. Put like that, it sounded insane. Her feelings at the beginning of a relationship were always intense, but this was different. For the first time in longer than she could remember, she could be herself. She wasn’t stressing over whether she was being interesting enough or pretty enough to keep his attention—he seemed fascinated with her all the same. That had to mean something, didn’t it?

  “I know it sounds crazy, Rachel, but he’s amazing. He makes me happy. When I’m with him—”

  “You forget everything but him. Just like Micah. You thought he was the one, too, and you practically threw away your career over him.”

  “Justin is not Micah.”

  Rachel sent her a pointed look. “Are you sleeping with him?”

  Guilt transformed into anger in the face of Rachel’s interrogation. “That’s none of your business.”

  “It is my business because I’m your friend. Had you not gotten in so deep with Micah, you would have seen him for what he was. I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

  Melody jumped to her feet. “No, you just don’t want my life to mess up your perfect plans. Rachel, I supported you when you met Alex. For heaven’s sake, we practically coached you through the first two months with him. Why can’t you be happy for me?”

  Rachel rose and reached for Melody’s shoulder. “Because I know you, Melody. Every time you have to make a commitment to something true and real in your life, something that would actually move you forward, you sabotage it with some guy. And now that we finally have the chance to have our own place, you’re screwing it up. You’re flying off to the mountains with someone you barely know when you should be focusing on opening the restaurant.”

  Melody sucked in a deep breath, feeling her vision go blurry around the edges. Whether from fury or from welling tears, she couldn’t tell. She shrugged Rachel’s hand off her shoulder. “This isn’t about you.”

  “Yes, it is about me.” Rachel looked hard into her face. “I’ve been waiting for this chance, Melody. Do you think the concept is what I would have chosen for myself? No, it isn’t, but you’re my best friend. I wanted to do this with you. I wanted to work alongside you every day, make something really special that we can be proud of.”

  “And I want to do the same thing!”

  “Do you? Really? I need to know for sure. Because if you back out on me and this fails, I’m done.
I’ve put every dime I have into this. I don’t get a third chance.” Rachel looked away, but not fast enough to hide the tears that slid down her face. She swiped at them angrily. “You know what? You should go. I need time to think. You can let yourself out.” She strode into her bedroom and shut the door firmly behind her.

  Melody remained in the middle of the living room, her chest tight, a knot twisting up her middle. She’d made Rachel cry. Rachel never cried.

  She wanted to go and apologize again, beg Rachel to forgive her, but there was nothing she could say to change what she’d done. It wasn’t that missing an appointment was unforgivable. It was that by trying to explain away her mistake, Melody had said Rachel’s dreams were unimportant, that she was unimportant. She was choosing not seven years of friendship but a few weeks of acquaintance with a guy who, for all she knew, would be gone just as quickly.

  Looking at it from Rachel’s perspective, Melody couldn’t blame her. Especially when the relationship really did have an expiration date.

  She let herself out the front door, twisting the lock on the handle behind her before she stepped outside. For a moment, she considered going to Justin’s place, but that wasn’t the answer either. Any decisions made with his arms around her would not necessarily be the correct ones.

  Instead, she drove back to her apartment, climbed the dingy stairs, and let herself into her soothing cocoon. If ever there was a time she needed Grandma Bev, it was now. When she’d broken up with Micah, it wasn’t her friends she’d run to but her grandmother, spilling out the sordid details without editing. How he’d found her weakness, her need for love and connection, and exploited it. How she’d been so infatuated she hadn’t realized he was just using her for sex. How she felt so stupid and ashamed and more than a little shattered when she learned it was all a lie . . . that he was committing to someone else.

  She remembered Rachel’s half-pitying, half-judgmental questions about Justin and felt another flush of anger. At least Bev had never used her past mistakes against her. She’d said there was no use wasting her life on regrets; Melody had learned an important lesson, and all there was left to do was repent and move on. Her grandmother had never brought up the topic again.

  Melody wandered into her kitchen and flipped through her collection of old recipe cards, looking for an activity to settle the sick feeling in her middle. She finally selected a card in Bev’s neat handwriting: honey whole wheat bread. She mixed the ingredients by hand, turned the dough out on a floured cutting board, and poured all her frustration into kneading it. What would her grandmother say about Justin? She’d no doubt understand why Melody was so taken with him. Both Bev’s husbands had been handsome charmers. For that matter, so was Melody’s father. Seemed that particular weakness ran in the family.

  Bev would say that any man who required her to give up the people and things she loved wasn’t the one for her. That when push came to shove, anyone who truly loved her would make the sacrifice without being asked.

  She would say that Justin wasn’t the man for her if she had to give up the bakery.

  Melody swiped the back of her hand across her cheeks before her tears could drip into the dough. Making Bev’s recipe, she could almost imagine her grandmother was here, giving her tough-love advice in that no-nonsense way of hers. She was always urging Melody to be independent, make her own decisions instead of letting them be made for her. She’d probably tell her to break things off with Justin.

  And yet Bev had been enough of a romantic to try again, even after her first marriage had failed. “You can’t decide that just because one man was no good, the next one will be too,” she’d said once. “I guess I just decided to have a little faith.”

  And that must have been where Melody had gotten her unflappable, irrational hope. That was why she wasn’t going to call Justin right now and end their relationship. Even if she couldn’t see how things would work out, she wasn’t ready to give up the possibility that they might.

  The dough had become soft and elastic while absorbing her frustrations and worries, so she shaped it into a ball and dropped it into an oiled bowl to rise. Then she picked up her phone and texted Justin.

  Rachel is really mad. And she has every right to be.

  A moment later, the reply. I’m sorry. Everything okay between you two?

  It will be. I just need to make it up to her somehow.

  You will. You want to come over?

  Yes; yes, she did, but that was why she couldn’t. Thanks, but I have bread dough rising. Besides, I really have to call Rachel and work things out.

  You’ve got this. Call me later.

  She smiled, buoyed by his confidence. Then she took a deep breath and dialed Rachel’s number. Her friend picked up on the third ring, but Melody rushed to beat her to the greeting.

  “Rach, it’s me. Don’t hang up, please. I have some things I need to say.”

  A long pause. “I’m listening.”

  Melody gathered her thoughts. “You were right. No matter the reason, I had a responsibility and I failed. I’ve only been thinking of myself. I haven’t considered what you’re giving up to work with me, what it would do to you if I pulled out. I hope you can forgive me.”

  She fell silent, waiting for a response, but it didn’t come. “Rachel?”

  A sniffle. “I’m sorry I reacted the way I did. I shouldn’t have thrown Micah in your face. I know how much he hurt you. But I’m still concerned about how fast this is going with Justin, especially if you felt the need to hide him from me. I know you want me to love him, but I love you more. I don’t want you to get hurt again.”

  It was as close to a full apology as she was going to get, and Melody couldn’t fault Rachel for her caution. Their relationship was more like sisterhood than friendship, and Rachel wasn’t going to back down on what she thought was in Melody’s best interests.

  Which was exactly why she had to tell her the whole truth. “Rach, there’s something else you should know. . . .”

  She poured out the whole situation: the looming departure, the reason Justin had turned cold on her. Her own decision to continue seeing him.

  When she was done, Rachel let out a long exhale. “Oh, Mel. What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” she said simply. “I think he could be the one. No matter how crazy that sounds. Were it any other time, I’d just go with him. But I’m absolutely sure I want to do this bakery. How can I possibly make this choice?”

  The silence stretched on the other end of the line. “Is it wrong that I really want you to choose the bakery?”

  Melody laughed and blinked away the start of tears. “It’s not wrong. Selfish, maybe . . .”

  Rachel snorted. “Shut up.” Her tone sobered. “If you’re serious about this guy, I guess you should bring him to supper club so Ana and I can check him out. Make sure he meets our high standards for you.”

  “It’s good you said that, since I already invited him.”

  “Well then, that’s settled. Just don’t expect us to go easy on him.”

  “I would never expect you to.” Melody’s voice softened. “This whole thing is just so bittersweet. Had you not lost Paisley, had my grandmother not died, we wouldn’t even get to do this. And now, add in Justin . . . I just don’t know how to feel.”

  “I know.” Rachel fell silent for a long moment. Then she said suddenly, “That’s what we should call it.”

  “Call what?”

  “The café. We should call it Bittersweet.”

  “Bittersweet.” Melody tried the word out on her tongue, imagined it displayed across their awning, stamped onto pastry boxes. Her favorite kind of chocolate, just a touch too sharp to be completely sweet. Just like life. Just like the genesis of the business. “It’s perfect.”

  “So where does this leave us? Are you still in? Tell me now, Melody. I promise, whatever you decide, I’m behind you.”

  Melody’s heart squeezed in her chest. As much as it might be pointing her to Jus
tin, she was equally sure she was supposed to do this bakery with Rachel, even if she had no idea how she was going to make this work.

  “I’m in, Rach. No matter what.” She just hoped the name didn’t become too much of a self-fulfilling prophecy.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  IF MELODY HAD HER WAY, she’d be spending every minute Justin was in Denver with him. But since she’d renewed her commitment to Rachel, she was determined to prove she was dedicated to their newly named Bittersweet Café. Somehow Rachel had sweet-talked the contractor into coming back to take measurements so they could get the architectural drawings going, and Melody had spent every moment since then working on the design for the interior, ordering supplies and appliances, and basically proving her commitment to the venture.

  Justin seemed to understand, even if the schedule meant only quick suppers and some hastily stolen kisses. Neither of them said aloud what they were thinking—that time was growing short. As much as Melody wanted to save up moments with him for later, the more a part of each other’s daily life they became, the harder it would be when he left. The fact they even continued on, Melody could only attribute to her faith. If this relationship was meant to be, they’d be provided with a solution. She held on to that belief like a lifeline.

  And then he was away on an eight-day tour, removing the temptation of shirking her duties to be with him. Instead, they fell into the habit of talking late every night when he got settled in his hotel, even if half the time Melody was barely coherent. She was still relying on a combination of warm milk, melatonin, and sleeping pills to reset her body clock, which was stubbornly hanging on to its old schedule.

  The Thursday before Justin was scheduled to return, Melody was desperately trying to stay awake for his call, but three more chapters into Madding Crowd and her blinks were getting longer and longer. Disappointment crept in when she realized he wasn’t going to call. It happened sometimes; he’d get in late and decide not to wake her up.

 

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