Exchange

by CF Frizzell

  Book in hand, Mel stepped toward the inner office doorway and wondered how she’d missed seeing the bike parked nearby. At least if she’d seen it, she could have prepared her body and mind for a visit like this, avoided morphing into a bundle of nerves like a schoolgirl.

  She’d last visited Shay at Misty and Coby’s place on Wednesday, and they’d spoken on the phone several times, but the void she felt inside said they hadn’t connected in years. Seeing Shay sent a wave of longing through her so thoroughly, it forced her palm to the woodwork for support. This is too physical for my own good.

  With windblown hair and the stitched slice below her left eye, Shay had the look of a surviving warrior, a dangerous renegade. The “rogue.”

  “Hi, Mel.”

  “Shay.”

  Mike stuttered. “Um, I’ll, ah, I’ll just take these back inside. Excuse me.” He stepped around Shay with an armload of papers, and then passed Mel, whispering under his breath, “Go. I’ll lock up.”

  Shay’s presence was hypnotic. Mel tried to read her thoughts, found herself hoping Shay liked the strapless lavender sundress Mel still wore from church, that she preferred Mel’s hair swept up as it was, that she thought the bare-shoulder look was sexy. Stop. Don’t do this. It’s torture.

  Shay ran a fingertip up her arm. “Jesus Christ, you’re beautiful.”

  “Your eyesight isn’t back to normal yet.”

  Shay laughed. “I needed to see you. It’s been too long. You look…God.”

  “Stop. You’re messing with my concentration. Are you working today?”

  “Not really. Do you have a few minutes?”

  “Of course.” She stepped behind the counter, needing some barrier to keep her from walking into those arms. Shay seemed to sense it and moved to face her from the opposite side. Her gaze went casually around the room as if looking for a topic to discuss.

  “Everywhere I go, I hear people raving about the Chronicle. And you.”

  Mel’s thoughts drifted back to what townspeople were really saying.

  Shay leaned a hip against the counter. “How are you holding up?”

  Mel shrugged and felt a wave of nausea pass through her stomach. “A bit tired, but hanging in there. How about you? No headaches?”

  “No, thank you. Have you made any progress with the Heights?”

  “From what we saw out there Thursday, I’d say they’re in for a little time off. Your information was spot-on, Shay. Chandler’s moved that massive leaching field at least partially within the buffer of a natural waterway. He never submitted a revised plan, never sought a variance. Not that he’d get one. Not for this. And he knows it.”

  “You’re sure about the distance? Were you able to get any measurements?”

  “Shay, believe me. I know these bylaws like the back of my hand. I see them in my dreams.” She tossed a hand toward the door. “A leaching field this size should be as far away as that traffic light on the corner, not as close as Marie’s Diner across the street. The plans I picked up—the approved ones—call for a much different arrangement.”

  “So, now what happens?”

  “The conservation commission chairman told me he’d look at the plans and photos tomorrow morning, if I get them to Billings, where he works. He said, if he sees anything that doesn’t jive, he’ll bring it before the commission Tuesday night.”

  “That’s really good news, Mel.”

  “I was so grateful, I almost cried driving home.”

  “The word around the barn is they start pouring foundations Wednesday.”

  “At least the project won’t be too far along, if the commission sees reason to issue a stop order. I’m betting what we’ve got will warrant a review of the work. Chances are, Chandler will be ordered to comply with the original plan or submit new engineering, and it may set the project back a few weeks, but at least it will be done properly.”

  “Going to upset quite a few people, but credit to you, Mel. It’s the right thing to do. Great job.”

  “Keep your fingers crossed, Shay. The fight hasn’t even begun yet.”

  “I know.” She moved uneasily at the counter. “Speaking of ‘fight.’ I wanted to let you know people are talking. About us.”

  Mel’s system swirled as her emotions shifted.

  “What have you heard?”

  Shay looked down at Mel’s fingers. She toyed with the trim, white-glossed tips.

  “Tom Rogers told me about you and Peters at the diner, what he said in front of everybody.” Mel took a slow, deep breath. “Tommy heard it from Sorvini.”

  Mel’s rampaging thoughts almost made her tremble. Now the whole Five Star knew. It was only a matter of time before their families and friends knew. A day or two maybe. As it was, all the folks at the diner got an earful. Shit, she thought, one of Nana’s bingo chums will probably even call her to confirm; they were that nosy, that rude. The strangulating loop of gossip soon would encircle her world and everything she did. And Nana will be so beside herself, she’ll call Dad.

  “This morning, Nana overheard women at church connect you and me. She even asked if I was seeing you ‘on the sly.’”

  “You’re kidding.”

  Mel withdrew her hand from Shay’s gentle, distracting touch. “All I can surmise is that Erica started it. I suppose I knew this would happen, but…” She exhaled wearily. “It’s hard, Shay.”

  “I’m sure. And so unfair to you.”

  “To both of us, actually.”

  “It kills me to have to say this, Mel, but I want you to be prepared. Sorvini and/or Chandler, maybe even Della will try to use us against you.”

  “I’ve considered that. It’s not sitting well, believe me.”

  “You can’t let them. You have to hold your head up, face them. They’ll use it to chop away at your credibility, your integrity, humiliate you so you’ll lower your public profile and shut up. It’s all they have, and you can’t let that happen. If you do, they win.”

  Mel felt the weight of public opinion increase across her shoulders. “I haven’t figured out how to deal with it yet, Shay. Hell, I’m losing sleep over this story, worrying about driving away pro-growth advertisers. And now I’m forced to worry about bigotry that’ll shut doors in my face and cost even more revenue.” Not to mention Dad and losing the entire paper.

  “Sorvini and his types won’t hesitate to play on that, Mel. That’s why you can’t show fear. You give them nothing. You play on Tomson’s good side and carry on with your head high.”

  “But I have to interact with these people, Shay. I need their cooperation and respect. My job, my livelihood depends on it. I can’t afford to have them look at me sideways or shut me out.”

  Shay straightened, and the energy seemed to drain from her chiseled face. She ran a hand through her hair. “So, what happened to ‘making progress’? You’re backing away, aren’t you?”

  Mel cocked her head. “I’m sorry, Shay, but, God, this is so…I’m, hell, I’m so damn blown away by you. I really enjoy being with you, in every way. I hope you know that.”

  “But?”

  “It’s not you, Shay.”

  “Jesus, Mel. Clichés?”

  “I’d never give you some line. Seriously. I think that chivalrous heart of yours will look inward, and I can’t bear the idea that you’d blame yourself, just because I—” She couldn’t bring herself to admit that a career move had led her to sell her soul to her father. A stab of shame made her wince.

  Shay’s look hardened. “Because you what? You’re having a hard time with us? I understand, Mel. I want to work through it with you.” Shay’s cell phone rang, but she ignored it.

  “I need you to understand.”

  “I do, Mel. I know it’s hard, but you can get through this.”

  “But do you understand, really?” Mel’s gut twisted as she begged Shay to relate to a plight Shay knew nothing about. Desperate to convey the severity of her dilemma without confessing the details, Mel blurted out a makeshift d
efense. “You say you ‘get’ my situation, yet you’ve resigned yourself to yours, living with what Slattery’s doing, and it doesn’t look…Well, I don’t see you fighting to do what’s right for you.”

  Shay’s face went blank. Her cell phone continued to ring, and Mel wished she could throw it against the damn wall. She could hear herself breathing hard. Shit.

  Shay’s jaw flexed. “So you’re saying cashing a Slattery paycheck means I let them run my life?” She ripped her cell off her belt and practically slammed it against her ear. “What!”

  Mel seized their pause to catch her breath and soothe her pulsing temples with her fingertips. She had to make Shay appreciate the magnitude of her position. Or are you trying to convince yourself?

  Shay half turned from the counter and huffed into the phone. “All right. Maintenance, yes.” She looked back evenly at Mel. “Yes. Give me fifteen minutes.”

  Mel snapped at the obvious interruption by Slattery. “What timing. They call, you jump. Where is your life, Shay?” Throw another huge mistake onto your pile, why don’t you?

  She needn’t have pointed that out. Shay reattached her cell to her belt, her face taut. Mel hated the heat, the tension between them.

  “Look, Shay. I’ve had a rough few days, and it’s just the begin—”

  “For the record, I haven’t lost sight of what I’m after, Mel.” Shay leaned against the counter. “I want my own shop someday, so yes, I’m playing their game for a while to get what I want in the end. But above all else, I’m doing it on my terms because no one tells me who I am or how to live. Maybe it’s your time to stop playing and take what you want.”

  The correlation to Mel’s deal with her father rocked Mel to her core. Shay’s heated gaze didn’t help. She doesn’t know the stakes of this game, that I could lose everything. She doesn’t know. Why can’t she simply accept what I’m saying? She can’t invest in us. Certainly not now. And I let this happen.

  “There’s a time for everything, Shay, and the Chronicle’s right in the middle of controversy now, risking advertisers. Jesus, for me to…This—this isn’t the time, you know?”

  She saw no agreement in Shay. Only disappointment. Then a wary curiosity.

  “It really isn’t about ‘the right time,’ is it?”

  “Shay, the Chronicle has—”

  “It’s all about reputation.”

  “Please try to see the position I’m in.”

  “I do, Mel. Clearly. It’s about finding the courage, and it looks like the last thing you need is to be seen with me.” Stepping slightly away, she placed a hand over Mel’s on the counter. “You don’t know how sorry I am that you feel this way.”

  Bells jingled and Dick Turner strolled in, Chronicle tucked under his arm. At the sight of Mel’s retreating hand, his congenial demeanor faded.

  Mel spoke quickly. “Dick. How are you?” Her voice almost cracked.

  “Good, thanks, Mel. Took a chance I’d find you in today.” He glanced menacingly at Shay.

  “Afternoon, Dick,” she offered. “How’s the Chevy?”

  Turner took a half second to look at her and nod. “Shay.” He opened the paper on the counter. “Little bit of business for you, Mel.” He folded the pages carefully, and Mel lent her attention, feeling viciously yanked away from Shay.

  Turner pointed to his advertisement, and Mel had to clear her throat before speaking.

  “What can I help you with today?”

  “Just a few changes I want to make for next week’s paper.” He glanced at Shay again. “No rush. If you’re busy, I…”

  “Oh,” she said, looking to Shay, hoping she’d see this perfect example of what she’d tried to vocalize. “We were just chatting.”

  Shay gave them a short wave. “Yeah. I’m on my way out.”

  The door jingled shut, and Turner tugged a pen from his shirt pocket. He shook his head slightly as he scribbled on his large advertisement, wrote only two words before looking up.

  “She bothering you, Mel? I mean, y’know, it’s pretty obvious what that type has in mind.”

  Mel’s entire system had already crashed. Blood rumbled in her temples, and her heart hammered so violently she feared her voice would shake. That whole scene went so wrong so fast. Shay left insulted, mad, hurt, and probably forever. The complete opposite of what Mel longed for. But she got the message, didn’t she? And what a pathetic, selfish, cruel message it was. Wasn’t it? There had been no intention to hurt, but the facts are the facts. The Chronicle comes first. Right?

  “You okay, Mel?” Turner was frowning at her. “That Shay, she pushed herself at you, didn’t she? Maybe you ought to talk to Sheriff Davis about her. Want me to swing by, have him send an officer over?”

  Mel blinked and replayed Turner’s words in her head. “Excuse me?”

  “Can’t deny she’s one of those dykes, pardon my language, and deserves a talking-to by the law before she goes after someone else in town. No telling who she’s got her eye on.”

  The sheriff? Seriously?

  “Now, Dick. I appreciate your looking out for me, but relax. There’s absolutely no need to involve the police.” She touched his shoulder reassuringly. “Shay’s a friend and as curious about Tomson as any newcomer would be. She fixed your truck, so I’m sure you’ll admit she’s skilled, polite, and very pleasant. Whatever her sexual orientation—and it’s no one’s business, by the way—it has nothing to do with how she treats people.”

  Turner mumbled “If you say so” as he went back to writing on his ad, but her words echoed in her head, a thunderous mocking she felt to the pit of her stomach. She watched him cross out prices and jot down new ones, carefully list several items in the spaces available. She watched but didn’t see. All she saw was the dimmed light in Shay’s eyes, the flinch of that sultry jawline. The bold stride of those long legs out the door. It’s about your reputation.

  Finally, Turner stood up. “There. You can read all that, right, Mel?”

  “Perfectly.” She wanted him gone. She needed to think. “Great job, Dick. I’ll make sure those are done by tomorrow afternoon, if you want to stop in and proof it.”

  He tossed a dismissive hand her way. “Nope. You always get it right.” He snorted. “Hell, half the time, you know what I mean even when I don’t. We think too much alike.” The words chilled her to the bone. “You take care, now, Mel.”

  She thanked him as he left the office, and thought her brain would implode.

  Courage.

  She took the ad and wandered to her desk and sat down hard, completely distracted. We think too much alike.

  From the doorway of his workroom, Mike coughed discreetly. “Want me to grab you a coffee across the street?”

  “Only if it’s one hundred proof.”

  “Maybe you should just go for a drive. Let some wide-open spaces help clear your mind.”

  Driving all the way to Canada wouldn’t do the trick, she mused, not even if she stayed. Damn you, Dad. Damn me. Sticking to my guns, building a future shouldn’t feel like this.

  “You heard all that?”

  He walked quietly to the guest chair in front of her desk and settled in. It was a while before he answered.

  “Don’t you think, with business about to explode in Tomson, that it’d be safe to stand your ground?”

  Mel stared out the window until she realized she was holding back tears. The last thing you need is to be seen with me.

  She fought for composure and uttered a self-deprecating snicker. “You mean there’s no more room in the closet back there?”

  “Just might be time you moved out of it.”

  *

  Coby elbowed Shay and almost knocked her over.

  “Wake up or you’ll fall in.”

  Shay squinted in the sunset off the lake and unfolded her legs over the edge of the dock. “Must have dozed off.”

  “Again. You’re pushing yourself too hard, my friend, picking up Sonny’s slack every night on top of this Fourth stu
ff.”

  “He finally admitted it’s all too much for him, so I don’t mind. Things will ease up after this weekend, anyway. Once the holiday’s past, I’ll get back to regular ranch work.”

  “You have three days to charge your batteries, Shay. You’ll have nothing left for the bash if you don’t. You’re brain’s frazzled enough.”

  “How did I get so caught up by her, Cob? I knew better.” She shook her head at the lake. “I told myself coming out here, looking for a new start doesn’t mean hooking up with someone. That was the last thing I should’ve done. So stupid.”

  “Nothing stupid about it. Just a natural thing. You two were drawn together. Still are.”

  “No. I don’t want to go through that again. Mel obviously doesn’t have the guts she supposedly wants. She’s too scared, and I’ve been too taken to see.”

  “We can’t force someone to make this kind of change, Shay. But I do think Mel has what it takes, even though she might not think so.”

  “I can’t get her off my mind. I know better, but I can’t. Plus, she called yesterday.”

  “And?”

  “She just left a message that she’d like me to call back.”

  “You going to?”

  “What good would it do? We’d just hang on each other’s every word and get nowhere. I’m not going to beg and blubber like a fool.”

  “Maybe she wants to apologize.”

  “Yeah, like that will get us anywhere. ‘Sorry, Shay, but if you put on a dress and some makeup, maybe we could meet for tea.’”

  Coby whacked her arm. “Cut that shit out. Mel’s not like that and you know it.”

  “But isn’t that what all this says?” Shay shook her head at her thoughts. “I should’ve known better. Just when I thought this would be the place, where I could get into something I liked and make a go of it. How can I hang around Tomson now when she’s everywhere? When the damn Chronicle is everywhere?”

  “Listen, you’re taking this too far too soon.”

  “Now that sure sums everything up, doesn’t it?”

  “Damn it, Shay. I know it’s frustrating, but give it time. Give Mel time. What did you expect? That she’d come out on the front page of her fucking newspaper? She’s got baggage to handle, the paper and this Heights mess, not to mention her grandmother and the ignorant asses in Tomson who will turn on her. Damn, give the lady a fucking break.”