by Kristi Rose
She cinched the belt on her pink silk robe and began the walk to the front of her house, her matching silk, pink mule slippers sinking into the wet earth with each step. By the time she stepped onto the porch of her beloved, traitorous house, the fur trim on her slippers was matted and drooping, much like her spirits.
Once inside her foyer, she slipped off her mules and tread the rest of the way in her bare feet. From the sanctuary of her kitchen, she could almost pretend that everything was as it should be. Almost, but the acrid residual smoke made her eyes water and, as she leaned over her sink and looked out through the window at the brightening sky, blinking back tears, she considered bailing. Moving to another city or state and starting over.
Maybe this was the universe’s way of threatening her, telling her to get out. She'd long come to terms with being unlucky in love. She'd given it her best shot, repeatedly, and had finally looked past the idea of Mr. Right, two-point-five kids, and a dog. She had the house with a picket fence but now with a burned backside and the irony of that made her laugh out loud. She shook her head, refusing to give in to such internal histrionics. She’d had plenty of setbacks before. Today would be no different. She'd get past it and somehow figure out a way to keep to her plan. Hopefully. Because any other option would simply not do. No, sir.
The banging of Jared's hammer echoing through her house caused her to jump. Pulling herself from her pity party, she brushed her eyes with her sleeve, then turned to fill her electric teapot before setting it to boil. On autopilot, she measured out the scoops of coffee for her French Press and poured scalding water into it, all while forcing her head back in the game and trying to construct some sort of contingency plan.
She'd have to cancel her appointment and, though she could now predict her ovulation to within a day, stress was going to play havoc with her cycle. She couldn't assume it would be as predictable as it currently was. Melinda groaned in dread. She was back to taking her daily temperature, a task she'd long come to believe a necessary evil. If she had to wait for a third try, she needed to ensure the margin of error of around her ovulation cycle was next to none . She couldn't afford to lose the opportunity over complacency.
She set two mugs on the counter and checked the coffee. To pass the remaining minutes of brew time, she called her father to tell him she wouldn't be in and why. After at least fifty "No, I don't need your help," she went into her office to find her policy and the company's number.
A long term pro at self sufficiency, Melinda inhaled a deep breath through her nose and exhaled it slowly through her mouth, squared her shoulders, and shuddered back the tremors that were threatening to overcome her.
After calling in the fire to the claims department, she poured the coffee, added creamer to Jared's, and turned to take it to him, only to find him standing in the kitchen doorway, staring at her feet.
"That should hold you for now, but I don't like that you're exposed. I'll send a crew out as soon as I can to get a temporary door in place so you can lock yourself in the house." He reached for the mug; dark smudges of soot were on his hands and face. The knees of his pants were damp, and his hammer hung from a belt loop.
"Thanks," she said.
He rubbed a hand over his shaven head, leaving a streak of soot in its wake. "Here." He pulled out a chair from her small kitchen table. "You need to sit. You're in shock."
"I'm OK."
"Your eyes are bigger than the mug you’re holding, and you're pale. Really pale. Sit."
"Jared—"
"Sit." He pushed the chair closer to her. "You can yell at me all you want but not until you sit."
On a huff, she plopped into the chair and promptly burst into tears.
"Hey, hey." He put his coffee cup on the floor, took hers, and placed it next to his, then squatted in front of her. "It's all fixable. Insurance will replace everything. What's important here is that you're safe, and once I get a temporary door on there, you'll be even safer. You're lucky you caught it in time." Crouching beside her, they were eye to eye, and he wrapped his arms around her.
She rested her head on his shoulder. "I was awake."
"I'm sorry…what?"
He stroked her hair and Melinda closed her eyes. "I was awake. It sparked from the outlet and traveled up the wall. I tried to put it out, but I couldn't get water to it fast enough."
"You don't have a fire extinguisher?"
His voice was low and soothing, but that didn't stop her from becoming defensive. She pushed against him and straightened up. "No, Jared. I do not have a fire extinguisher. But you can be assured that I will have one from now on."
"Hey, I'm not faulting you. If I had known you didn't have one, I would've got one for you."
"It's not your job to take care of me. I take care of me." She used the heel of her hand to wipe her tears. The last thing she wanted was to become dependent on him more than she already was. Over the last ten years he'd slowly become a greater part of her life, their friendship cementing with time. The number of guys she'd dated had dwindled, and her time with Jared had increased so much these past two years he'd become a staple in her life. She enjoyed the days when he came into the diner for breakfast or popped over on Wednesdays with takeout after his builders’ meeting. Looked forward to them, actually. She missed him when she didn't see him, and if he started buying her safety equipment and doing husbandly things like checking her tires, she'd be in a heap of trouble. One day he might be someone else's husband, and then where would she be?
"Melinda, when are you gonna realize that I'm here to help? You're family."
"I was married to your brother for forty-three days over fourteen years ago. We were stupid kids. That doesn't make me family."
"But once a Calhoun, always a Calhoun."
Stupid, stupid man. With stupid words that twisted in her heart. If he called her family one more time, she was going to hit him where it hurt.
She sighed with exhaustion. "I appreciate you coming by, Jared. The insurance people are sending someone in a few hours, so I guess I should get ready." She leaned against the back of the chair.
Jared rolled back on his heels, sat on the floor, stretching his long legs before him, and picked up his mug.
"I'll wait here while you shower and get ready. I'm not OK with you doing those things with a tarp as your only barrier."
"You really don't have to—"
"Yes, I do. Now go. You mind if I make something to eat? I'm starved."
Melinda shook her head and eased out of the chair. She stepped over his legs and walked as quickly as she could to her room to grab clothes. After closing herself off in the bathroom, she turned on the shower, then sat on the floor and waited for the water to get hot. Sucking in deep breaths, she forced back her tears.
Living with regret was inevitable if one chose to actually live their life, and Melinda had done just that. She made no apologies for it. But, if she could undo one thing—just one—it would be her marriage to Jared's younger brother, Lance. Not because she regretted her time with him. No, they were both young and stupid and caught up in the moment of thinking they knew it all and deserved the world. She would undo it because, more than anything, she wanted a nice guy to share her life with. And the nice guy she'd come to picture was the one that had knelt before her, rubbed her back, talked about buying her a fire extinguisher, and called her family.
HE'S THE ONE
CHAPTER TWO
Stunned, Melinda stared at the insurance guy. "But I had the house inspected before I bought it, and they said the electrical was all to code."
"I'm sorry, but not all of it is. Looks like this room was built without a permit and the wiring was piggybacked onto the old system. Not to code at all. If they did that here, then any other room that was remodeled by them is likely at risk, as well."
She looked toward the updated kitchen and laundry room add-on that had been so appealing when she purchased it, but now might spark a fire at any mome
nt.
"What do you suggest?"
"Getting a contractor in here as soon as you can to get it fixed. I have to put it in our files that you have faulty wiring. Send in the proof of permits and work, and we'll update everything." He ripped off a check from his pad. "Here, this should help get you started. I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news."
She took the check. "I understand. You're only doing your job."
With a handshake, they ended the meeting. Processing what he'd told her, Melinda watched the insurance man walk away. With the check flapping lightly in the breeze, she wondered if she should let the place burn down if it were to light up again. Start over. Get something newly built. It would be far easier than tackling this obstacle.
Melinda wanted to kick herself. It was that mentality that had ruled most of her twenties and led to poor relationship decisions. Starting over might seem easier, but the payback was always two-fold, and she wasn't getting any younger. Her baby-having days were limited as they were. Starting over would only postpone that further.
A crew of three guys snapped her out of her reverie when they came around the corner.
"Hey, Melinda," called Keith, Jared's youngest brother.
"Hey, Keith. What are you doing here?" She opened her arms and pulled him into a hug. She'd always liked Keith whose childlike mind managed to stay innocent no matter how old he got.
"I'm helping the crew today. I'm the supply runner." He showed her where a variety of tools hung from his belt.
"Sounds like a busy day for you then."
"Jared said for you not to worry. We'll get you fixed up real good."
"I have no doubt, Keith. No doubt." She squeezed his arm then glanced at her watch. "Hey, would you mind keeping an eye on things. I'm going to take this check to the bank."
"Sure thing, Melly. We'll make sure everything is locked up tight when we leave."
"Thanks." She leaned in, kissed his cheek, then chuckled when she saw the hint of a blush follow.
She made good time to the bank and decided to swing by her diner's competitor, Two Chicks and Bacon, for a cup of coffee. Sure, she could get a mug at her place, but then she'd have to deal with her father and his cronies that hung out there. At Lorelei and Andee's diner, she might actually have a moment of peace. Besides, they closed in a couple hours, and their traffic should be decreasing, whereas at her place the lunch crowd would be coming in.
She pulled in to the lot and took a moment to admire the cute gingham awning and the way the logo was painted on the large picture window. If Melinda were solely in charge of their diner, it would be cute like this. Where Lorelei's place was boutique in nature, Melinda's was most decidedly a greasy spoon, a quality, money-earning greasy spoon that embodied the concept of diner in every sense of the word.
She took a seat at the counter and waited for someone to notice her. Coming here was not a custom of hers. Like all diners, Two Chicks and Bacon had their regulars. Many were friends of the owners.
"Should I be worried that you're here? Lorelei asked as she leaned against the counter. Her baby bump was the first thing Melinda noticed.
"No, I just need a good cup of coffee and a quiet moment." Melinda flipped her hair over her shoulder, then pulled out a menu. "And maybe something to eat, come to think of it." She hadn't eaten all day, and her day had started before the crack of dawn.
"I heard about your house. I'm sorry. Breakfast's on me," Lorelei said.
"What? No. You don't have—"
"I know I don't have to Melinda, but you've had a shitty day, and I want to." Lorelei's look dared her to protest. For the second time—the first being when Jared hugged her—she felt the tightness in her chest ease.
"Thanks. I'd love some blueberry pancakes." She put the menu back in the holder. Heavy comfort food might help ease her anxiety and tilt the balance back toward her status quo.
"Watch out boys, she'll chew you up. She's a man eater," Andee sung as she came around the counter. "Oh, hi Melinda. I didn't see you there."
It wasn't the first time people, usually girls, sang the Hall and Oates song around her. She knew people called her a man-eater behind her back—that and a host of other things. Melinda wanted to tell them all their gossip mongering only added more intrigue to her reputation, and contrary to popular belief, she'd never fooled around with a married man or even entertained the notion, never broke up a marriage, and no man had ever died while keeping company with her.
"Give it a rest, Andee. She's already been kicked in the face once today," Lorelei said.
"Oh man, sorry Melinda. I forgot about the fire. I just—"
"Hold it against me that I kissed Buck once back in high school?"
Buck was Andee's husband. Andee laughed and poured Melinda a cup of coffee. "No, girl. I should thank you for that, actually, because once you were done with him, he kissed better. Of course, I taught him everything else he knows." Andee laughed again. "I just like teasing you like I do everyone else."
She didn't know if being teased about her reputation was a compliment, but the fact that Andee was treating her like she did all her other friends spoke volumes. Andee and Lorelei had been friends since they were in diapers and hung in a tightly knit closed-off circle. Even the hint of being considered part of their fold blew Melinda's mind.
Andee leaned across the counter. "Can I ask for a favor?" Her voice was a whisper, and her eyes darted around the room.
Melinda leaned forward as well. "I'll admit that I'm nervous to hear about this so-called favor, but damn if I'm not curious."
Andee's lips twitched with a smile. "I need some help with women stuff."
"Please tell me we aren't having the period talk."
Andee smacked her on the side of the arm. "I need help with the...uh…art of...um."
"Conversation?"
"Seduction," Andee whispered, and sweat broke out above her brow.
Melinda sat back, stunned. A second later she leaned forward again, her brain racing. "Andee. You're beautiful. I can't think of a single thing I could show you that would make any improvement."
Andee smiled and played with her fingernails. "You walk into a room and people stop and look. I've seen you make grown men blush, and not from embarrassment but the sincerity in your flattery, and I don't think I can learn any of that in this lifetime, but maybe if you helped me pick out some clothes, taught me a few things about how to wear them, I might, you know, be able to apply them in a constructive manner."
"Are we talking about Buck here? Appling these new things to your husband? I know it's not any of my business, but—"
"Of course we're talking about Buck. What kinda woman do you think I am?"
Melinda stared at her, one brow arched, and bit her cheek to keep from smiling.
"Sorry. I guess I did kinda set it up wrong," Andee said.
"Kinda." She toyed with the handle on her coffee cup, waiting for Andee to continue.
"Listen, you're really good with clothes. You have really big..." She pointed to Melinda's chest.
"Boobies. So do you." Melinda pointed back. "But they're hidden under this tent of a shirt." She tugged at Andee's oversize peasant shirt.
"I know, and I think that's part of the problem. We've been together seventeen years, married ten, and he doesn't look at me like he used to. I figured since Bucky really likes my, you know, I could start there."
Melinda laughed. "They're breasts, honey. Boobies. Tits. It's OK to say it. We're grown women. and they're a part of who we are."
Andee's cheeks were pink. "So are you in?"
"Why don't you ask Lorelei? She is your BFF."
Andee rolled her eyes. "Please. I want to va-va-voom my wardrobe, not turn it into beach-bum wear. That girl has more pairs of capris than should be legal. Call me crazy, but I don't think capris say 'sex me up.'"
Melinda laughed. She wasn’t a capri girl, either. Melinda looked around the diner, uncertainty giving her pause
. She might have known Andee most all her life, but they weren’t part of the same crowd.
"What? Afraid to be seen with me or something? Not cool enough for you?"
Melinda snapped her eyes back to Andee. "Are you kidding? What will people say about the two of us suddenly hanging out and shopping?"
Andee pursed her lips. With an arched brow, she said, "Likely they'll say nothing, but wouldn't it be cool if they said we're having a secret affair. Oh, wait—maybe they'd say you, Buck, and I were, you know, having one of them ménage à trois. That would be awesome. No one ever says anything exciting about me."
Melinda smiled. "I'm not going to teach you to dress like me." She flipped her hair over her shoulder in an exaggerated gesture and ran her hand down her wine-colored wrap shirt. "Only I can pull that off, but I can help you find things that'll make you feel good about yourself, not uncomfortable if someone other than Buck looks at you. Which will happen, I assure you." She winked. "Yeah, I can definitely help you draw Buck's attention."
Andee pushed back from the counter and clasped her hands together in delight. "Can you go this weekend?"
"Sure, unless something with the fire hangs me up."
"Great. Thanks, Melinda. I'll drive. I have a big truck so there'll be plenty of room for us, our big boobies, and your ego."
Melinda laughed and waved her away. "Go away so I can eat my food in peace." She used her haughtiest tone while watching Lorelei deliver her pancakes.
Melinda swirled the butter around the top pancake, letting it soak in before she poured on a healthy serving of maple syrup. Just as she was about to dig in, the diner door swung open and in walked Jared. He didn't see her at first and called out greetings to Lorelei and Andee. He was about to slide into the seat three places down when he noticed her.
"Uh…" He straightened back up.
"What are you doing here?" She smiled, knowing she had him trapped.
"I came to check on you."
But Andee had already filled a mug of coffee for him and placed the creamer next to it. She knew how he drank it.
