Command: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World)

by Amélie S. Duncan

  Maybe because here, I was safe from memories.

  I couldn’t live in this home if she filled it with her beauty and spirit and left me.

  The bell chimed again and I yelled, “I’m coming.”

  Wrapping a towel around my waist, I padded out of my bedroom down to the front door. Standing on my porch with an overnight duffle on her hip, clothed in what I liked to see on a woman—a tight strapless minidress with no bra and platform heels—was a woman with the wrong color hair and eyes.

  Melody.

  I barely had time to hide my disappointment before she launched herself at me. “I see one of us is halfway there,” she said, her eyes filling with lust. “Help me out of my clothes.”

  It was our standing arrangement: if she came to town, we fucked, ate a meal, and she was gone in the morning. She wrapped her arms around me and tugged off my towel.

  I had to admit, having arms around me felt good, but I wasn’t up for the usual.

  “How about we hang?” I said and moved her back and picked up my towel.

  “Are you in a relationship?” she asked. Like me, she didn’t like wishy-washy nonsense.

  I cinched the towel back in place and closed the front door behind her. “I’m not sure.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “You turned me down, of course you are.”

  Melody had an ego, which I found attractive in a woman, so I let her have it.

  “Yep. I guess I’m taken.”

  I didn’t have Shana, but still, I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right for Melody to have sex with me while I wanted Shana in her place. Fuck, that was bullshit. Shana made me weak.

  “Okay, well . . .” She folded her arms. “What now? I didn’t rent a room for the night.”

  “You can stay over. I have plenty of food in the containers in the fridge.”

  She sighed loudly. “All right.”

  I understood how annoying it could be when you expected good sex, and you weren’t getting it, but I wouldn’t change my mind. “Sorry.”

  I left the room to change. When I came back, I sat down with Melody on the couch and noticed a pie on the coffee table that hadn’t been there.

  Melody came from the direction of the kitchen with two beers in her hand and handed me one.

  “Where did this pie come from?” I asked.

  “Maeve dropped it by. I think that was Maeve.”

  I frowned. Maybe it was Shana? I blew out my breath. Did it matter if she saw Melody here?

  Shana wasn’t really mine anymore.

  I sat on the couch next to Melody. “So, what now?”

  “You want to get to know each other and talk about our lives?” she teased.

  I sighed and smiled. “What else can we do?”

  “I have an answer, but we’re friends too,” she said. “Let me change, and we’ll talk about the woman you look sad about.”

  “Do I look sad?”

  “Miserable. I’m a good listener. And hungry. Can we eat grilled steaks?” she asked.

  “I’m already ahead of you.” I walked to the porch, looked toward Maeve’s house, and sighed, returning to the kitchen. Melody offered her ear, and I needed to talk. Why not?

  Shana

  I swayed my hips to Lizzo’s Good As Hell as I stirred Maeve’s pasta sauce—a new-to-Maeve music addition to her culinary top ten. I was riding a natural high that I hadn’t had in a long time. My girls had won.

  My girls? I laughed at myself. I sounded like Nathan. I hadn’t known how I’d handle my time at the group home. There were a lot of restrictions, and at times the kids made mistakes. But the staff was always ready to forgive.

  The girls became the joy of my week. Sure, their bickering and fights annoyed the hell out of me. They were no different than I was when I was a teen. After the staff shared parts of their histories in the social system, I couldn’t believe how they kept going. They laughed, joked, and played, and were so committed to baseball and their friendship as a team. I could relate because baseball had been there for me, just like Jackson and Nathan.

  I enjoyed the days Nathan came by for practice—even on his days off. Today, all the work paid off. We won and behaved silly together. I’d take our silly any day. I’d take anything as long as Nathan was there.

  I hadn’t known how much I missed him until he was suddenly back in my orbit. Now? I hated the days I didn’t see him. Already. Hooked much?

  Maeve returned from dropping off the extra pie she made for Nathan. “When’s he coming over?”

  “He’s busy and needs to get up early tomorrow. So, it’s a ladies’ night. Cathy’s coming over too, so we’ll have fun.”

  “No way,” I said, removing the spoon from the sauce. Nathan never turned down Maeve’s dinner. He didn’t eat more than a slice at Salvatore’s. It was unlike him to not come over for at least a few minutes to gloat about the win with me. “I’ll go over and get him.”

  “And bail on your duty? No chance, Callahan.”

  She handed me back the wooden spoon I’d put down and added oregano to the sauce.

  I groaned and stamped my feet. “My arm is tired. Don’t you have a mixer that can do this better?”

  “Why, when you have a perfectly good arm, slugger?” She returned to preparing her homemade pasta on the island.

  My phone chimed from my purse in the living room. “Be right back.” I turned down the sauce and went to pick it up. “Mom?” I answered, surprised.

  “Hello,” she said. “I thought I should call and see how you’re doing.”

  My brows rose. After a month? “I’m fine.” I mouthed my mom to Maeve, who’d come in from the kitchen.

  “You didn’t need to leave home. I told your dad it was because I considered using your bedroom for an office. He didn’t want to give up the library. I didn’t throw anything away—”

  “I’m fine.” Whatever. It wasn’t as if I had a place in their house. It wasn’t a home. Certainly not my home.

  “Maeve lives closer to work and the NA meetings downtown.” I rolled my eyes at my lame excuse.

  “If that’s what you need right now. I also called because I was wondering if you’re free for lunch tomorrow.”

  My mouth dropped open. She’s inviting me out? “I am free. Where?”

  “Bertha’s Café. Noon?” she suggested.

  “I’ll only have forty-five minutes,” I warned. Mr. Matheson had been bitchy since I kept turning down his offers for lunch and dinner.

  “That’ll be fine,” she said. We both went quiet on the line.

  “See you tomorrow,” I said, then hung up.

  I cursed myself and the tension in my head as I tried to fight the stupid light flutter of hope that rose in my chest. It blossomed just because Mom wanted to see me. That hope transformed me into the little girl I’d been, wishing she’d like me too. We never spent time together. Whenever we did, I always seemed to do or say the wrong thing. Jackson, on the other hand, always made her laugh at herself. They’d been good buddies. Then again, he was everyone’s buddy.

  “Are you okay?” Maeve came over and hugged my shoulder.

  I flinched. I wasn’t used to being comforted or having someone see how my relationship, or lack thereof, with Mom upset me. “Yeah. Nothing new.”

  “You’re getting this hug, so you might as well take it,” Maeve half-joked. I leaned in to her, and she held on until I relaxed. “She called, Shana. That’s a start.”

  “You sound like Nathan,” I murmured under my breath.

  Glancing at the door he usually came through, I realized I really wanted to see him. What if I just went over? No. I wanted him to invite me. I wanted him to want me with him. I went to my purse to return my phone and found the envelope I’d left for the rent. Returning to the kitchen, I slapped the money down on the counter.

  “Take the money, Maeve. I’m not a charity case.”

  “I never said you were.” She put her hands on her hips. “You pay how I want you to pay, and what I need y
ou to do is stir the sauce. If it burns, you’ll make it over again.”

  I rolled my eyes, and she gave me her classic resting bitch face.

  “Party already started?” Chatty Cathy Clementine came through the back door bearing two bottles of wine. She talked a mile a minute.

  “If you call three lonely chicks a party,” I said, stirring the sauce.

  “Speak for yourself. I’m on my third date,” Cathy said. And from what I could see, she wasn’t the lonely thirty-eight-year-old spinster but had upgraded her style big time. Gone were the long shapeless dresses that hid her curves. Cathy rocked a brightly colored floral mini dress with bare legs and high-heeled lime clogs. Her auburn hair, usually so long we’d all wondered how long it would get, was cut into a bouncy bob that framed her round face. She looked fabulous.

  “I stand corrected, and wow, you look hot,” I told her.

  “Thank you. I did check your style app. It came in handy, and I see you were expanding your selection. A shame it’s gone. Sorry about the jail stint, but it looks like you’ve bounced back. Ecstasy is one helluva drug, but no one believes you were Breaking Bad.” She opened a bottle and collected glasses from the cabinet while Maeve put her pasta on. She finally decided the sauce was stirred enough.

  “Thanks, Cathy,” I deadpanned.

  “No problem. And I love your hair, looks messy chic. But you’re beautiful. You could style it in a curly clown wig, and men would still run after you.” Cathy winked and handed me a glass of what turned out to be fake wine. Even though my drug tests were voluntary, I chose to abstain from all types of drugs to demonstrate “intent to change,” or whatever NA called it. It seemed Cathy had done her homework on me. And from her, that didn’t feel like she’d judged me, but had simply accepted facts she knew, and decided to walk alongside me. I’d missed people like her in my life.

  “Has Mr. Matheson taken you out yet?” she asked. Okay, maybe she didn’t know about that.

  I grimaced at the thought. “Nope.”

  “Then you’re on his bad side. I sympathize. He had his last temp crying in the bathroom. Now, enough of work. Did Maeve tell you about her guy who keeps showing up at the hospital to see her?”

  My mouth dropped open. “No, what guy?”

  Maeve frowned. “He’s an EMT, delivering people to the hospital, not popping in for me, but don’t let me keep you from your good story, Cathy. I rarely see what’s-his-name.”

  “You know very well what his name is. Chad Tisdale,” she said in a sing-song voice and leaned against the island. “He’s cute and lives in one of those nice, new townhomes by the lake. He loves her desserts. No ring, but has a profile on Tinder, so you better get him quick.”

  I was impressed she’d gotten all that out in one breath.

  “Tinder, huh?” Maeve scrunched her face. “He wants sex first.”

  “Who doesn’t?” I asked, calling Maeve back from whatever old world she lived in. “If you can’t connect during sex, what’s the point?”

  “There are many other points,” Maeve said. “If sex is all you have, you have nothing.”

  “But good sex, and honestly, Maeve, you need to get back out there. How long has it been?” Cathy asked.

  Maeve opened her mouth and closed it. That long.

  “I’ll take the good sex,” I said, clinking glasses with Cathy.

  “If you’re considering sex and rekindling with Nathan, you may be too late,” Cathy said. “If I’m not mistaken, the pretty flight attendant is parked in his driveway.”

  I peered at Maeve, who looked like she wanted to disappear. The confirmation caused pain to pierce my chest. “Is that true?”

  She finally looked at me.

  “Melody’s there, but they’re hanging out. They’re friends. I didn’t tell you because it wasn’t that big a deal.”

  “You mentioned her when I moved in,” I pointed out.

  We both looked over at Cathy, who looked thoroughly amused.

  I lifted my chin. “Nathan can go out with whomever he wants. I plan to do the same.”

  “Do you have a Tinder profile?” Cathy asked.

  “Does Nathan?” I asked her instead of Maeve.

  “He does.” Cathy took out her phone to show me.

  Shit. Nathan looked fucking great.

  “He didn’t want one,” Maeve said. “I made it for him and one for Dad too.”

  “And Jackie is working out well,” Cathy offered.

  “Thanks for the update,” Maeve said, smirking at her.

  “I have one already,” I admitted.

  Maeve’s eyes widened, and Cathy looked like she was getting a good scoop.

  “I had it in LA,” I added.

  “Let me see,” Maeve said, and I brought up my profile.

  Cathy and Maeve both frowned at the photo. “You look . . . mean.”

  “Did anyone swipe right?” Cathy asked. Her tone suggested she wouldn’t have.

  “Yeah,” I said. Not many. “I wanted to show I wasn’t up for being fucked around.”

  Okay. I guess the photo I put up gave mugshot vibes with the shit lighting. My serious look kind of looked like a scowl. But in my defense, I thought I’d attract men that won’t bother playing stupid games with me.

  “It reads baggage,” Maeve said. Cathy nodded in agreement.

  I laughed, and she took a photo. “There. That’s better. Now I’ll change your locale to Sunnyville.”

  She tapped the changes into the screen like a pro. “And to move you along with Nathan, since we all know you’re going back there, let’s swipe right on him.”

  I grabbed the phone. “What the hell, Cathy?”

  Maeve and Cathy laughed.

  I frowned at my phone. “Can I un-swipe?”

  “You can, but then Nathan will still know you swiped,” Cathy said.

  “Why do you want to un-swipe? My brother is top-notch,” Maeve said like she hadn’t told me to stay away from him if I wasn’t staying in town.

  “Nathan’s not into me. If that woman is over, he’s not interested.”

  I swiped a few profiles in front of them spitefully. Maeve scolded while Cathy gave me a you get yours, girl look. We filled our plates, refilled our drinks, and Maeve went to get dessert.

  Cathy came closer to me and gentled her tone. “How is your mom doing?”

  “I wouldn’t really know.” But what a strange thing to ask. Mom was Mom. Tidy. Organized. Beautiful.

  Maeve came back with ice cream. “Dessert time.”

  “Now you’ve spilled our business to us, Cathy, tell us about everyone else in town,” I said, taking my bowl. While we ate, Maeve and I brought up everyone we could think of, and Cathy had something to share. Her nosiness reminded me of why I’d left. Too many people knew too much about your personal life in Sunnyville. But I admitted, I enjoyed all the juicy gossip, and Cathy had a way of sharing more of the good than the bad. For instance, every third Saturday, the firefighters had an ongoing bet where the loser did an early morning jog naked down Main Street. Now I knew who had a Prince Albert piercing.

  After a few more drinks and a full belly, we were singing at the top of our lungs, 4 Non-Blondes’, What’s Going On. I laughed and sang along. But my mind wondered what the hell was going on with Nathan down the road with the other woman.

  We weren’t together, but we were in each other’s orbit. The thought of him kissing and touching someone else hurt like hell. She had a standing invite to his home, which meant she had her shit together. She sure didn’t do community service, random drug tests, and NA to gain positive points for her drug possession hearing.

  More than likely, he’d considered me another project to fix. I’d fooled myself into thinking Nathan wanted me. It didn’t matter. Once I was in the clear, I would leave Sunnyville. This time for good, I told myself. And at least I knew that Nathan had . . . well, he had Melody. He was happy and wouldn’t expect or hope to hear from me again.

  He’d be done.

 
After a sleepless night, I rose early for my run. Or more so to see if Melody had stayed over. A Honda Civic I knew didn’t belong to Nathan was there. I ran faster and harder until I stopped at the park and wiped my stinging eyes.

  He’d kissed me. Called me beautiful. Seemed proud of how I’d worked with the girls. Yes, he’s entitled to his booty calls. But for a moment there, I’d thought he’d wanted something with me.

  But I was so, so wrong.

  Fuck Nathan.

  I gulped down the water and threw my water bottle in frustration.

  “Ouch!”

  I turned to find where the ouch came from and saw a man jogging up to me. I’d seen him in passing before on the park trail that joins the boardwalk and runs along the oceanfront. “Did I hit you?”

  “No, you didn’t,” he said sheepishly and pushed back his sandy-blond hair and grinned.

  I glared at him. Then why the hell did you yell ouch? “Good to know.” Now go away.

  He didn’t move on, and I wasn’t surprised. He was the good-looking type who knew it and used it—ripped upper body showed off in a tight muscle T-shirt. He believed he could get me.

  “You’re doing double time today?” he asked.

  I eyed him again. “No, and I don’t have time to talk if I want to get my miles in.”

  “Can I jog with you? I’m Sam Rich. I’m new in town.”

  “I’m Shana, and I’m not new,” I said, shaking his outstretched hand.

  “Shana . . . Shana Callahan?” His brows rose, and a smile pulled at his mouth.

  I lowered my brows. “You’ve heard of me?”

  “I don’t go by what I hear, I go by what I experience,” he said, grinning.

  Easy there, Sam. You’re not “experiencing” me.

  “What I meant was I don’t give a damn about gossip. I prefer to get to know a person for myself,” he said. “So, can we run together?”

  “No” was on the tip of my tongue, but why shouldn’t I? If the guy wanted to run with me, so be it. And if he wanted sex and I felt like that too, again, why not? I was single. And Nathan had been clear that we weren’t going there, as Cathy had so eloquently put last night. What the hell? A girl had needs.

  “Okay, you can jog with me, but I don’t slow down for anyone,” I said in a curt tone.