“Thanks.” She’d put in some effort this morning, not that she was going to admit to that. “Is it okay if I just wait for him?”
“You know what, I was supposed to take my coffee break, anyway,” Renata said. “Do you want to chat for a few minutes?”
Melanie smiled. “That would be nice. How are the kids? You’ve got three, right?”
“They’re doing a day camp thing just outside of town,” Renata said. “They’re the camp’s problems right now.”
Melanie chuckled. “I’ve got my stepdaughter with me now. She’s seventeen.”
“Oh?” Renata’s eyebrows went up. “Come on—let’s head outside. There’s a bench I like, and you can see when your friend is done with his father.”
Melanie followed Renata outside into the fresh air, her gaze instinctively moving toward Logan where he was pushing his father slowly down the sidewalk. Logan bent closer, presumably to hear something his father said, then he stopped, angled the chair toward some trees and pushed the wheels into the grass.
Once at the bench, Melanie sat down next to the shorter woman and shot her a smile.
“This is a nice spot,” she agreed.
“So how is it going with your stepdaughter?” Renata asked. “I guess she didn’t side with her dad in the divorce if she’s here.”
“I thought she had,” Melanie admitted. “But she showed up on my doorstep, and—” She glanced over at Renata. Renata was a nurse, and she’d have a better idea of what Tilly needed right now. “Can I ask you something...professionally? As a nurse?”
“Of course,” Renata replied. “What’s going on?”
“It stays confidential, right?”
“Absolutely.”
“She’s pregnant. And she’s got nausea and vomiting, and I’ve never been pregnant. I have no advice. She won’t see a doctor yet, and—”
“Saltines,” Renata said.
“What?”
“Saltines. The crackers. They work. They absorb the extra stomach acid and it helps keep the nausea at bay.”
“Oh...” Melanie nodded. “Thank you.”
“She’ll need prenatal vitamins and a doctor’s checkup, too,” Renata added.
“Right. I’m going to pick those up for her today, and as for the doctor’s appointment, that might have to wait until she gets back to Denver.”
“You’re in over your head, huh?” Renata asked.
“Feels that way,” Melanie admitted. “She’s resented me for a few years now for not being her real mom.”
Renata was silent for a moment. “I was going to save this until our next Second Chance dinner, but Ivan wants to come back home.”
Melanie stared at her. “Didn’t he want to move the mistress into your house?”
“Yeah, and she broke up with him a few months back. I guess having him all to herself wasn’t the fun she thought it would be.” Renata sighed and leaned back, crossing her arms as she looked out over the lush lawn.
“Are you considering it?” Melanie asked.
“I’d be crazy to.” Her voice was low.
“But are you?” Melanie pressed.
Renata turned toward her with tears in her eyes. “The kids want their dad to come home. And they’re furious with me right now, because I’m the mean one standing between them and a united family. And Ivan—he’s using that. He’s buying them gifts, telling them he still loves me—”
“Can you trust him again?” Melanie asked helplessly.
“Never.” Renata shook her head. “Of course, I can’t. He had a mistress that he hid very successfully with a thousand little lies, and then when I found out, he refused to give her up. I’m supposed to trust that man again? He lies better than a politician!”
“Do the kids know what happened—what their father did?” Melanie asked.
“I tried to hide the details. We both did. But I’m sure they figured out some of it. Especially the older one. What about you—did the stepkids know what caused your divorce?”
“I told them,” she said. “But the youngest was sixteen, and the older two were already in college, so...”
“But he’s still their father, right?” Renata said. “And they’ll idolize him no matter what he does.”
“That’s the truth... So, what will you do?” Melanie asked.
“I don’t know.” Renata reached out and patted Melanie’s arm. “But just know that even when you’re the biological mother, kids can still choose their dad’s side.”
“Oh, Renata...” Melanie breathed. “I’m sorry.”
“Enough about me,” Renata said, forcing a smile. “What’s happening with him?”
Melanie looked over to where Logan stood next to the wheelchair, both men staring out toward the lake, not even looking at each other. Logan was tall, strong, his weight shifted to one foot. He’d always been a good-looking guy...
“Logan?” she asked.
“Logan,” Renata chuckled. “Didn’t we see him at dinner the other night?”
“Yeah, and he helped me boost my car,” she said. As if that was all that happened. He’d woken her up, reminded her that she was still beautiful and her life wasn’t quite over yet. But he’d also tipped all of her expectations. She thought she knew what she was doing back here in Mountain Springs, and he was such a welcome distraction from the hard work of starting over...
“So?” Renata shot her a curious look. “Anything happening there? I mean, you’re at his father’s nursing home, dressed rather nicely—”
“He’s an old friend,” Melanie replied. “An old boyfriend, but still. We were young enough that it was a lifetime ago. I’m not even sure it counts anymore.”
“And the dress?” Renata raised an eyebrow.
“I’m reminding myself that I’m still a woman and I can still look good,” she replied.
“So there’s no spark, then?” Renata asked with a small teasing smile. “It’s too bad, because he’s cute.”
Melanie smiled at that. “A spark... What is that, anyway? Do I think he’s cute? Of course. Do we flirt a bit? Why shouldn’t we? We’re both single. But his wife died a couple of years ago, and I’m still reeling from my divorce. I’m not ready to trust a man again—not after Adam. And I’m not willing to toss everything aside for a man again, either. I’ve done that once and lived to regret it.”
“Bad timing,” Renata said.
“Bad timing,” she agreed.
“Love—the real kind—is so rare, isn’t it?” Renata asked softly. “It’s fragile and beautiful, and when you’re young, you think you’ll stumble across it over and over again, like butterflies in a field. But you don’t. Something changes inside of you, and you can’t see the butterflies anymore. Or they don’t come to you...”
“How old are you?” Melanie asked.
“Thirty-six.”
“Not exactly over the hill, Renata,” Melanie pointed out.
“I’m a mother now, with three kids, an ex-husband and a mortgage. When it comes to the dating scene, I might as well be eighty.”
“Well, you look great for your age, then,” Melanie chuckled. “So we don’t have our youth anymore. That’s short-lived, anyway. You’ve got something better—maturity, depth, beauty.”
“I also have a hearty dose of cynicism,” she said with a short laugh.
“Girl, that’s just survival at this point,” Melanie quipped. “You’ve got a lot to offer to someone worthy of it.”
“I keep trying to remind myself.”
“Was it the real thing with Ivan? I know you married him, but you know what I mean. Did you marry the guy who made you feel butterflies?”
“I know you’ll laugh at me for saying that, but once upon a time when we were young and he only had eyes for me, it was real then. I wouldn’t have married him if it weren’t. And I still c
an’t explain what went wrong...”
“Do you want him back? In some deep part of your heart?”
Renata shook her head slowly. “I want to stop missing him. That’s what I want.”
To stop the pain, the regret, the constant questioning of why one woman couldn’t be enough... “Yeah, I get that,” Melanie said softly.
“You’re lucky you’ve got a nice distraction over there,” Renata said, nodding in Logan’s direction, then she glanced down at her watch. “My break is over.”
“Thanks for the chat,” Melanie said. “I’ll see you tomorrow night for dinner, right?”
“Yes, tomorrow. I’ll be there with bells on,” Renata said with low laugh. “I’ll be in better spirits by then, I promise.”
And Melanie could see why these dinners were so important. No matter how mature or confident a woman was on her good days, she’d always have the bad days where she felt like a failure, like she had nothing left to offer. So maybe this dinner circle wasn’t such a bad idea, after all. Friends who truly understood what divorce was like and wouldn’t judge weren’t so common.
* * *
LOGAN CROSSED HIS arms and looked down at his father. Harry was sitting rigidly. His veined hand trembled as he held Logan’s phone in front of him, his watery gaze locked on the screen.
“He doesn’t look like our side, does he? He must take after Caroline,” Harry said.
Our side. That was the first time that Harry had actually included Logan in the familial language.
“Actually, a lot of people say he looks like me,” Logan replied.
“Maybe he takes after your mother, then,” Harry said, and handed the phone back. “You never looked much like me, either.”
Logan put his phone back into his pocket, and he felt that old anger and protectiveness well up inside of him.
“What does it matter who he looks like?” Logan demanded. “He’s my son. He’s your grandson.”
“It’s what people look at,” Harry replied.
“Is that why you hated having me around? What people would say?” Logan asked.
Harry shook his head. “That was a long time ago. And I didn’t hate having you around.”
“It sure seemed that way.”
“I had a family, Logan,” Harry said. “You know what that’s like now.”
“I was your family, too, Dad.” Logan felt his throat tighten.
“Of course, of course,” Harry said, heaving a sigh. “You know what I mean.”
Except he didn’t. And at this point, Logan didn’t even want to ask.
“Dot and your mother had their differences,” Harry went on after a moment of silence. “Elise liked to make her feel dowdy. She could be very cruel.”
“Mom wasn’t mean,” Logan said.
“Your mother should have respected my marriage.” Harry lifted his gaze, and there was a self-righteous glimmer in his eyes.
“She did,” Logan replied. “She didn’t want you back. She just wanted me to have a father.”
“She might not have wanted me back, but she wanted me to take notice of her,” Harry said. “And that hurt Dot deeply. My family with Dot was a choice.”
“And I wasn’t,” Logan said quietly.
“Well, neither was Graham,” Harry chuckled.
Logan bit back a retort and he sucked in a breath, looking for some self-control. “Graham was a surprise, yes, but he’s also the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“And your wife?” Harry asked primly. “Is she in the top five best things, at least?”
“Dad, shut up!” Logan said. “My wife is dead, and I loved her deeply!”
“You did the right thing by her,” his father replied. “I’m not trying to be a jerk here. It isn’t worth staying together for the children. You need to go find the woman who’s right for you, not try and make something permanent that was never meant to be more than a fling.”
“I didn’t do that!” Logan snapped. “You never even knew my wife! How would you know?”
“I’m talking about myself and your mother,” Harry said. “But if the shoe fits...”
Harry still knew how to push his buttons, and he rubbed his hands over his face.
“What’s this, anyway?” Harry asked, tapping the box.
“My mother left it for you in the will,” Logan said, and he pulled the envelope from his pocket. “This is the key.”
“Hmm.” Harry couldn’t accept the envelope with his bad hand, and Logan tucked it into his father’s front shirt pocket.
“I could help you open it,” Logan suggested. “I’ve been curious about what she left you.”
“No.”
Logan cleared his throat. “Why?”
“It’s private,” Harry said simply.
Even this—even this memento from Logan’s own mother—was something that Harry would hold away from him?
“I don’t know why I came,” Logan said quietly.
“Because I’m your father,” Harry replied. “Even if you don’t like it.”
And to prove that he was a better man than his wife had thought. But right now he was filled with cruel words that could effectively crush his old father, words he was biting back.
“For what it’s worth,” Harry went on, his voice trembling slightly. “I think you’ve become a good man, over all. You’re a lot like me, actually.”
“How so?” Logan snapped.
“That.” His father waggled a finger at him. “That growl in your voice. That’s from me.”
“And you think I’m a good guy?” Logan wasn’t ready to let that pass quite yet.
“Yeah.” Harry nodded slowly. “Yeah. I do. You’ve worked hard. You married the mother of your child. You built something for yourself. By a lot of people’s standards, that would be success.”
“And by your standards?” Logan asked.
“I’m the one who messed up with your mother,” Harry said quietly. “It wasn’t your fault.”
And that was as close to approval as Logan had ever gotten from his father. It was also as close to an apology as he’d ever gotten, either.
Their conversation turned toward Junior and his siblings, and Logan didn’t attempt to bring it back around to himself again. This was what rejection felt like—a stubborn insistence that he was overreacting. And at seventy-five, his father wasn’t about to change his ways. But when he talked about Junior, Harry’s whole face lit up with love.
Later, when Logan and Melanie were back in the truck, Melanie asked tentatively, “How was it?”
“I’m not sure, actually,” Logan admitted. “We did some general updating of each other. I gave him a brief history of my life since Graham’s birth, and he told me what my siblings have been doing.”
“Oh... That sounds formal,” she said.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “I wasn’t sure how I’d feel telling him about Mom’s death, but you know, Mom is beyond his reach now. His reaction, or lack thereof, can’t hurt her.”
“He didn’t react?” she asked.
“He said he was sorry to hear it,” he replied. “And then he talked about Dot dying. I guess it makes sense. Obviously, his wife’s passing was a pretty big loss. He did tell me something interesting, though. Dot felt really badly for how she’d ostracized me. She said so when she was in the hospital.”
“Wow...” He heard the tremble in her voice, and Logan glanced over to find her dark gaze locked on him. “That’s something.”
“I guess so. People get honest when they’re facing death.”
“Did he say why he hadn’t done anything to stop it?” she asked. “I mean, he was the one who let her push you out. You were his son.”
Except Dot hadn’t been all bad. She’d been fighting her own battles against his mom—and now that he’d been married, he could r
ecognize that insecurity. And marriages could be complicated, so he wasn’t angry with Dot, either. It was just unfortunate that the adults in his life hadn’t been able to sort out their own issues sufficiently to be nurturing to him when he needed it most.
But that was a long time ago. Maybe now what he needed was some respect, or some explanation.
“No, but he did say he thought I’d become a good man,” Logan replied. “He’s never said that before—he’s never said he was proud of me. I should be thankful for that.”
“What was in the box?” she asked.
“Don’t know. Mom left a key in a sealed envelope, and Harry wouldn’t open either the box or the envelope in front of me.”
Melanie sighed. “Maybe he was afraid of what he’d find.”
“I’m curious, though,” he admitted. “I have no idea what she left him. I didn’t know she was even thinking of him toward the end. She asked me to buy that box, and I was the one who picked it. I didn’t realize it was for him.”
“Maybe she missed him,” Melanie said.
“It would be a waste of heartbreak,” he replied bitterly.
“So, is this over, then?” she asked. “You gave him the box. Your mission is complete. Are you headed back to Denver now?”
He smiled ruefully.
“Not quite yet. I’m going to come by again in a few days. Maybe he’ll have opened the box and he can let me know what was in there.”
If Harry would even tell him. He sensed more than hesitation in his father. He sensed secrecy. There was a lot his father would rather he not know...and maybe he’d been the same with his other kids.
“I’m glad.” Melanie smiled then, and he couldn’t help but smile back. “So you’re in town for a few more days, at least.”
“Yup,” he agreed. “I pick up my son from the airport on Sunday—so that’s as long as I can hold out here, even if my dad decides to open up.”
Logan wasn’t ready to go, and it wasn’t just because of his father. Melanie had proved to be a strange comfort in difficult times, and he didn’t want to leave her behind yet, either.
They were approaching town—the other end of which would lead down to the lake—and Melanie nodded toward an upcoming intersection.
Their Mountain Reunion (The Second Chance Club Book 1) Page 10
