Melt With Me: A With Me In Seattle Universe Novel

by Melissa Brown

  I just hoped she’d be willing to have a cup of coffee with me. Maybe we’d fall into our easy, playful banter and she’d have a change of heart. I didn’t want to pressure her or come off as needy or desperate. But I missed her more than I’d ever missed anyone in my life.

  I laid down on the bed, thinking of Maren, and slowly drifted to sleep. Hours past, and finally I forced myself out of a deep sleep to get ready for dinner with my parents. An hour later, I hurried into the restaurant. The hostess walked me to the table, and my mouth dropped.

  Maren.

  My parents were seated at a table for four. And Maren was sitting with them. For a moment, she looked just as shocked and excited as I felt; her eyes lit up and her eyebrows jumped up high. But her expression morphed into one of confusion. She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by my father.

  “Peter? What on earth?” He jumped to his feet and pulled me into his arms, holding me tight. “What the hell are you doing here, kid?”

  “Surprise,” I said weakly, hugging him back and glancing at Maren, who was looking down at the white tablecloth. My dad pulled away; his eyes danced with happiness.

  “I had no idea! I can’t believe it! Val, did you know about this?”

  Mom stood to greet me, a soft smile on her lips. I knew she was behind all this; I just didn’t know how she pulled it off. “Yes, I did. Peter and I planned it. Hi, sweetheart. C’mon, sit, sit.”

  I pulled my chair out and gave Maren an uneasy smile. “Hi, Maren.”

  She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, fixing her hair. “Hi.”

  “Oh, uh… I’m afraid this is a little awkward. I didn’t know you’d be here, I swear. Mom said it would just be the family.”

  “Maren is family,” my dad corrected me, raising an eyebrow. “She’s the reason I’m still here.”

  I closed my eyes. “Of course. I meant no disrespect. I just wanted Maren to know this wasn’t an ambush.”

  “It was me, all right? I knew everyone’s plans and kept everyone else in the dark. Maren, Peter had no idea you’d be here and vice versa. Selfishly, I wanted us all to be together. And I realize that makes things awkward, and I’m sorry about that.”

  “Mom, it’s just—”

  Mom held up one finger, urging me to allow her to finish her thought. “But c’mon, we’re all adults. Can’t we just remember why we’re all here today? This amazing man is still with us to add another candle to his cake, and that’s something to celebrate.” She reached over and squeezed my dad’s hand as her eyes pleaded with Maren and me to set our issues aside. Just for one night.

  “Of course,” Maren said, leaning over and patting my forearm gently, her smile equally gentle. She then raised her glass of wine. “Happy birthday, Burton.”

  “Happy birthday, Dad.” I smiled at my dad, who was struggling to keep his composure. The mood at the table was softened, and all the awkward energy managed to find its way out. It felt like our last dinner all together on Christmas Eve, except this time Maren didn’t hold my hand under the table. I didn’t lean toward her and rub the small of her back while she spoke. We kept our distance. We stayed respectful and polite. And I hated it. I wanted to touch her hand, to glide my fingers through her silky curls. I wanted to steal a kiss when my parents were engrossed in conversation. And most of all, I just wanted the world to know she was mine.

  But she wasn’t.

  I watched in awe as Maren spoke to my parents. The deep admiration in my father’s eyes could never be replaced as he spoke to his own personal savior. When she spoke, she had his full attention and vice versa. They were forever bonded. My awe turned to shame as I thought of all the ways I screwed up with Maren and how my actions would forever change the dynamic at the table.

  “Dad, I have something for you,” I said, reaching under the table to retrieve the gift bag I’d brought back from Japan. “Happy birthday from Tokyo.”

  “Aw, son, thank you.” He reached into the bag, grinning from ear to ear. My dad always did love presents, especially souvenirs from other cities and countries. He pulled out the tiny Daruma doll I’d found for him in downtown Tokyo. “Such a big bag for such a small little guy.”

  “It’s a Daruma doll. It’s a sign of perseverance and good luck. You make a goal for yourself for the year and you color in a black circle in his eye. And then next year, on your birthday, if you’ve completed your goal, you color in the other eye.”

  “That’s lovely, honey,” mom said with a warm smile. “Burton, isn’t that nice?”

  “I love it, son. And that’s actually a great segue into what your mother and I wanted to tell you. My goal is to travel more.”

  “That’s a fantastic goal,” Maren said.

  “And so, we’d like to come and visit you in Tokyo before your three months are up. We can figure out a time later on, but we’d like to spend at least a week there. Maybe take a train up to Mount Fuji.”

  “And I want to see Tokyo Disney,” Mom added, nudging my dad.

  “That would be awesome, guys. Yes, please come!” I glanced at Maren, who had a bittersweet expression on her face. Once again, I was profoundly aware of the fissure I’d created at our table. I could only hope I could fix it.

  “There’s more in the bag, Dad. That’s why it’s so big,” I said with a laugh.

  Dad’s eyes widened like a kid on Christmas morning as he reached back into the paper bag. He pulled out the yukata that I’d found for him, a beautiful silk kimono-style robe in deep navy covered in an intricate dragon-and-bamboo design.

  “Oh Peter!” my dad said as he ran his hands across the luxurious fabric. “This is…this is just beautiful.”

  “Wow,” Mom said, reaching over to pet the fabric as well. “Um…I bet they make these in my size. Mother’s Day is coming up, you know.” She winked.

  I winked right back. “I’m all over it, Mom.”

  “That’s my boy,” Mom said, patting my hand. I eyed Maren before taking a sip of wine. Her eyes were wet and her cheeks flushed.

  Is she feeling what I’m feeling? Do I have a chance?

  My thoughts were interrupted by six or seven of the waitstaff walking to our table as they sang the birthday song to my dad. They placed his favorite German chocolate cake in front of him, and he blew out the candles. The restaurant erupted in applause. My dad leaned over and placed a kiss on my mom’s lips, rubbing her arm with his hand.

  “Val, you shouldn’t have.”

  “Oh stop it. You have it every year, and this year will be no different.”

  Dad turned to Maren. “There’s this lovely little bakery by our place. Valerie has been getting me my favorite cake there ever since we moved in. My mom used to make this for me as a boy, and this bakery is the first one to ever be able to capture the absolute deliciousness of my mother’s cake. It’s amazing.”

  Maren placed a hand over her heart. “That’s so sweet.”

  “It is sweet,” he said with bright eyes, “and delicious!”

  Mom rolled up her sleeve and grabbed the spatula the staff had left for us on the table. “Pass me that cake, birthday boy. I’ll get everyone a slice.”

  After dinner, I offered to walk Maren home. She paused for a moment before giving me a cordial smile. “That would be nice, thank you.”

  “Promise you’ll come by tomorrow,” my mom said, kissing my cheek. “I need more time with you before your flight.”

  “And we need to plan our trip.”

  “I’ll text you in the morning, I promise.”

  Mom leaned in closer and whispered into my ear, “It’s not over, son. I feel it.”

  I said nothing in response, but pressed my lips into a thin line and smiled politely before looking at Maren. “Ready?”

  We began the six block walk to her apartment. The April air of Seattle was wet, as a rainstorm had danced itself through the city while we enjoyed our dinner. The wonderful smell of fresh rain tickled my nose as we walked down the street, her high-heeled shoes click
ing against the wet sidewalk.

  Click, click, click.

  “Your dad looks great,” she said, breaking the silence hovering between us.

  “Yeah, he does, doesn’t he? You’d almost never know what happened. I mean, it was six months ago. How crazy is that?”

  “So, we’ve known each other for six months?” Maren asked, biting down on her bottom lip.

  “Yeah, I guess we have.”

  “Feels like longer, doesn’t it? I know this might seem crazy, but it’s almost hard for me to a remember a time when I didn’t know you or your family.”

  “It’s been an intense six months.”

  She paused before responding quietly, “Yeah, I guess it has.”

  I couldn’t stand for an awkward pause to invade our conversation, so I changed topics. “So, how’s the shop?”

  “Slow,” she said with a laugh. “But it’s good because Lyra’s busier than ever with her classes. Her program’s almost done, and I’ll officially lose her once she finds a job in the fall.”

  “You’ll stay friends though.”

  “Oh, for sure. She’s stuck with me.” She laughed. “ I have a new classics collection, inspired by Lyra, of course. Jane Austen, Edgar Allan Poe, Emily Bronte.”

  “I can’t wait to see…and smell them. Poe is intense.”

  “Yeah, he is. He had a dark mind, that one…but a beautiful one, nonetheless.”

  “No one ever accused him of being unoriginal,” I said with a chuckle.

  “Definitely not.” Maren paused.

  Click, click, click.

  “Any new vending machine discoveries?”

  “Oh yeah.” I nodded. “All the time. I’m exploring the city more, so I’ve seen some cool ones. Action figures, celebrity souvenirs, hot broth.”

  “Hot broth?”

  “Yeah, isn’t that crazy? I think they have something for just about anything you can think of.”

  “And how’s work?” Her voice was clipped. I knew she was happy for my opportunity, but it had been a source of tension between us. In some ways, Japan was the beginning of our end.

  “It’s amazing,” I said, scratching the back of my neck as we walked. “I’m learning a ton, and everyone is so friendly and nice. The toilets took some getting used to though.”

  “Yeah?” She looked puzzled.

  “Yeah, um…in most of the buildings at Ekisaito, you, um…you squat. No seat or anything.”

  “Interesting,” she said, sounding intrigued and a little confused.

  “I’m used to it now, but it was definitely culture shock. Luckily my apartment has a toilet seat.”

  “Have you gotten used to the small space?”

  “It’s forced me to be more organized, that’s for sure. My landlord is so polite and kind. Overall, everyone is. Manners are a huge deal in Japan. I really love that. And the city is always moving, always going. People are everywhere and everything is smaller; they don’t even have benches for sitting outside because they take up too much space.”

  “Interesting.”

  “And don’t even get me started on the sushi.”

  “Ah, don’t tease me. You know how much I love sushi.”

  “It’s the best I’ve ever had. And most of the restaurants I’ve been to have conveyor belts.”

  “Oh, I’ve heard of that. You just take what you want, right?”

  “Yeah, and there’s little bites of everything. They stack your plates at the end and total it all up. The plate colors tell you how much it costs. It’s awesome.”

  “It sounds nice. Not just the sushi, but the city.”

  “I think you’d love it…apart from the toilets, that is.”

  Maren laughed a genuine, hearty laugh, and a warm feeling spread through my stomach.

  God, I’ve missed that laugh.

  “There’s only one thing I hate about Japan,” I said, my heart pounding in my chest. I was going to do it. I was going to touch the topic that I knew I shouldn’t touch.

  “What’s that?” Maren asked unsuspectingly.

  “You’re not there.”

  Maren stopped walking, and her expression became clouded with conflict. “Peter—”

  “I’m sorry, I just…I miss you. When we’re together, we just make sense. Don’t you feel it?”

  “Talking and laughing has never been our problem, you know that. We’ve always found a million things to talk about.”

  “It’s chemistry, Maren. And it’s rare.”

  She swallowed hard and sighed. “I can’t do this, Peter. It was nice to see you tonight, it really was. But I can’t.”

  “Why? Because you can’t trust me, right?”

  She cleared her throat and looked me square in the eye. “That’s part of it, yes.”

  “Give me a chance to earn your trust. Please.”

  “Can’t we just appreciate this night for what it was? Reconnecting and celebrating your dad still being with us?”

  “I wish I could,” I said, shaking my head. “But I can’t. You mean too much to me to walk away. I can’t walk away from the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I know in my heart you’re the one for me, Maren. The second you walked into that hospital room, no one could possibly compare. Don’t you understand? No one.”

  Maren closed her eyes tight, holding on to the nearest railing. “Too much has happened, and I can’t go back. It’ll never be the same.”

  “What if it can be better?”

  “It can’t,” she said, her voice clipped. “What happened in San Francisco…it changed everything for me, and I just can’t go back. I wish I could explain it better, but I can’t.”

  “I never cheated on you, Maren.”

  “Peter—”

  “No, please…listen to me. I allowed myself to be manipulated by someone I thought was my friend. For that, I’m unbelievably sorry—-you have no idea just how sorry I am. I wanted to see the best in her and she took advantage of that. But I never touched her. I never even thought of touching her…not even for one second.”

  “I want to believe you,” Maren said, her voice cracking as she looked into my eyes, her brows pulled together. “But I just…I can’t. I’m sorry, Peter.”

  I threw my head back and looked up at the night sky. “Don’t do this, Maren. Please.”

  “I’m not trying to hurt you; you have to know that.”

  “Are you…are you seeing someone else?”

  “What? No. This isn’t about anyone but you and me. I want to stay in your father’s life…and I’m hoping we can figure out a way to just…be. To be around one another when he needs us to be. Can we just…be?”

  “I guess I’ll take whatever piece of you I can get.”

  A tear slid down her cheek, and I wiped it way gently with my fingertips. She closed her eyes again before looking down the street. “My building is coming up. I think it’s best if I go now.”

  I nodded. “All right.”

  “Thanks for walking me home…and for all of the wonderful things that you said. I’m sorry that I can’t give you what you want. I wish I could—”

  “It’s okay… I just want you to be happy.” I shrugged. “So…be happy, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m going to stand here until you’re inside your building if that’s all right. Just want you to be safe.”’

  “It’s more than all right.” She leaned in and kissed me softly on the cheek. I wanted to turn my head and pull her in for a kiss, but I didn’t. I stood still. She squeezed my hand gently before pulling away.

  “Good night, Maren.”

  “Safe travels, Peter.”

  And with that, Maren walked down the sidewalk and out of my life.

  Click…click…click.

  Chapter 29

  MAREN

  One week later

  I’d thought of almost nothing but Peter since Burton’s birthday dinner. I was consumed by my own doubts, my own shortcomings. I couldn’t trust him, and that wasn’t ent
irely his fault. I never trusted my mother…or Jackson…and they’d given me good reason not to. But Peter…I just wasn’t sure.

  “Girl, what is going on with you?” Lyra asked as she packed up her things to leave for class. I was leaning against a wall display, zoned out and unaware of my surroundings. Her voice brought me crashing back to reality as a candle slipped from my hand and cracked against the counter below.

  “Shit.”

  “Oh Mare, I’m sorry!” Lyra ran to the register, crouching down to get the dustpan and broom. “Don’t move!”

  “It’s not that bad,” I said, scooping up pieces of glass and placing them in my open palm. One of the tiny shards of glass dug into my skin as I cupped my hand.

  “Oh my God, stop!” Lyra snapped, grabbing my wrist and shaking my hand over the small garbage can. “I was gone, what—two seconds? You’re so impatient sometimes.”

  “And you’re such a pain in my ass.”

  We’d been snapping a lot at one another ever since I told her about my walk home with Peter. She thought I’d made a giant mistake and wasn’t shy about telling me so. And now that Peter was no longer sending me texts of small apartments or wacky vending machines, I was having more regret than I could even process. But I couldn’t tell her she was right. That would take a lot of prodding.

  “Look,” she said, grabbing the candle and tossing it into the garbage before handing me the dustpan. “I spoke my piece and I know you didn’t want to hear it. But we have to get past this, Mare. We tell each other the truth… It’s what we do; it’s who we are.”

  “I know,” I said, holding the dustpan to the floor as she brushed the little bits of glass into it. “I’m sorry. I know you just want me to be happy, and I love you for it, I do. I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t… Am I an idiot?”

  Lyra shook her head and gritted her teeth. “Please don’t make me answer that.”

  I hung my head, “Great.”

  “No, no, I’m kidding…kinda. Look, you had to follow your gut, right?”