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Melissa (Daughters Series, #3)

Page 21

by Leanne Davis


  She and I go there at least twice a week in the evenings. It’s great to see how diligently she listens to me and then properly executes my advice. What’s more, she has no fear. That’s not something I can teach her. It’s either there or it isn’t, and she has none whatsoever. Not even a second’s hesitation, no matter how high she climbs. I must swallow my previous statement to her when I said she didn’t have the physical, mental or emotional stamina to do this kind of thing. She just might have what it takes; at least she has more than most. It’s not a natural place for anyone to be, and people either love it or hate it. I’m so pleased to see her interest sparked by the same thing that interests me. And another good thing about Melissa? She’s incapable of faking it. If she’s not sincerely interested, it won’t hold her focus. It’s so easy for me, but I look forward to doing it with her every time. It’s satisfying to watch her and see how fast she catches on to her foot placement and pulling up her own weight. She already figured out that it takes leg strength more than her arms. I find it satisfying and a great stress reliever when I do it with her.

  I skip my trip to Mount St. Helens. I intended to walk/climb up the back and ski down the face of it. I don’t mention that to her. When Ron and Junior, the guys I was going to do it with, call me to go with them, I blow them off without an explanation. I can’t believe I’m doing that, changing my schedule and the whole reason I came to Washington State for a girl. But right now, this girl is undertaking a lot of changes and trying to adjust so hard to become a better person. If I can avoid causing her more stress right now, it is well worth it. I will not quit climbing or backcountry skiing for anyone, and definitely not for good. But I can stand down and abstain for just a few months until Melissa gets her feet on the ground.

  ~Melissa~

  I don’t make it very far, or very fast when I try to climb up the rock wall. It’s harder than I ever dreamed. But eventually, I get up. It triples my respect for Seth’s ability than when I started. I ask him to take me into nature so I can get a feel for the real thing. Not in a gym. Not on a man–made wall, but on a real rock and real earth and real height.

  He takes me to Leavenworth one weekend. It’s a pretty town just over an hour away from us and designed to resemble a Bavarian town in the Alps. Mountains surround it, as do many rivers and streams. It is a forested land with various kinds of outdoor recreational destinations. We’re driving up a back road canyon when Seth suddenly pulls over. He decides this large boulder is a good place to start. But if I fall, I won’t die. Seth scrambles up it in minutes with an ease and speed that’s admirable. Most people couldn’t walk up a paved hill that fast. I take much longer, mostly in my concern of doing everything right. Seth doesn’t stand on form or technique or any kind of rules, which is odd considering the rest of his life, where it seems that’s all Seth lives by. But out here in the woods and mountains is where Seth feels wild and free. He follows his own code and rules and does most of it completely alone.

  He includes me now, however, which I consider a huge compliment and a sign of how he feels about me. I constantly worry how my strange behavior might affect him. What he might think was cute at first could turn into annoying and complete frustration over time. So I’m constantly monitoring his moods towards me. I can’t afford to ignore any subtle body language or even a sigh. But honestly? I don’t think any of it bothers him. He acts relaxed and open and nice and tolerant. The things he says to me and about me are a reflection of himself. I think my odd ways make him like me more.

  One weekend, he brings a bunch of equipment with him, ropes and anchors, which he uses to go up the cliff wall. It’s high too, much higher than anything I would attempt. He goes up and rappels down, letting his feet land on the rocky face before he pushes off again and drops like he’s free–falling. He releases the ropes at the right time and bounces again off the cliff face. He comes down to me again in a minute, if that. He climbs right back up and does it several more times, just for the fun of it. I don’t learn until later that it can be the most dangerous of all climbing activities. Its sheer simplicity makes it deadly. That’s because everything depends on the integrity of the equipment: the ropes and knots and anchors. Seth does it just because he thinks it’s fun to do that day. It’s alarming to me to see him in this environment. The normal, safe, and sane Seth becomes all cocky and sure, even over–confident. He never thinks things will go wrong. He’s so secure in his skills. Seth is sure about most things in his life, but other than climbing, his ego never gets in the way of his reason and good judgment. Climbing brings out a totally different Seth and it’s an interesting switch for me to observe.

  He’s completely captivating to me. I wonder how I ever thought he was a nerd or a dork or unable to get a date. Now I feel almost protective of him. I hope other girls won’t notice him. How could they not want him? I honestly don’t know how to explain my budding feelings for him. He makes me smile and grin and laugh and blush. Just thinking about him causes all of that, and reliving or reminiscing over the things he said or did with me are my favorite pastime. I can’t imagine not having him in my life and that scares me. I want to see him so much.

  During the next few months, he takes me out on the weekends and we camp or simply hike. He usually ends up climbing cliffs spontaneously along the way, which would never occur to me. When it first happened, I was standing at the bottom of the sheer wall and my heart leapt up into my throat as I wondered Why is he doing that? Eventually, I got used to it, simply because he did it everywhere we went and multiple times a day. I can never predict it or stop him from doing it. Judging from his amusement at my concern, this is nothing to what he does when I’m not around. That is something we’ve yet to negotiate and compromise on. The large boulders and cliffs he messes around on when I’m present could kill him if he fell. But the ones he points to that he actually wants to climb or traverse make my stomach turn and my palms start to sweat just thinking of him doing that with no safety equipment whatsoever. That’s what disturbs me, not that he does it, but how he does it. I can’t stand it sometimes.

  But I don’t think he’s ever going to stop climbing, no matter how I feel.

  ~Seth~

  It’s the oddest damn thing but Melissa has started her own small business and yet, she doesn’t believe she’s actually done that. She refuses to say it’s a valid endeavor or that it’s going to last. No matter how much I and everyone else around her, who were skeptical at first, especially her sisters, now praise and support her, she still doubts her integrity.

  She decides to become a dog trainer.

  How? It starts out small. Her mom calls one afternoon from the veterinary clinic and asks Melissa to come there so she can meet a young couple who has a new puppy. Jessie suggests that Melissa could help them train her. So she starts her own puppy class, and for a more affordable price than everyone else in the area is charging. They agree to let her, even after Melissa clearly explains she has no formal education or credentials. But after they go to the Hendricks’s and watch her with her own dogs, as I have so many times, they quickly agree to hire her.

  Several more clients sign up from word of mouth as well as her mom and Noah suggesting her to people with new dogs. They honestly explain that she’s related to them and has no official accreditation. But once people see her in action, she has no trouble filling her openings. She’s surprisingly good with the people too. The endless patience she shows while training their dogs, calms not only the dogs, but the owners too. Her patience extends towards puppies to older dogs that misbehave or are hard to control—even aggressive dogs and the crazy, hyperactive, nervous dogs. Sometimes, I’m so doubtful she can possibly manage to slow down the crazy dogs and get them to behave, but after enough time, she always does. She spends just as much time training the owners. The imperturbability she displays with people who are stupid or annoying or just don’t listen to her impresses me. I would get frustrated and just walk away. The people who act marginally interested in training their
pets are the only ones she loses her patience with. Surprising to me, she manages to restrain her thoughts in front of them and waits for me before she launches into her tirade about bad pet owners. There’s no greater sin to Melissa Hendricks than being a bad, lazy, or incompetent pet owner. And being mean or neglectful to any animal is simply unacceptable to her.

  She politely asks people like that if she could buy their pets. Consequently, she now owns two more dogs. When Will grumbles at her about that, she whips out the money she earned from her training and pays him for their extra food and other items. They already have plenty of room.

  Since they are all Melissa’s dogs, I decide to mention that perhaps it’s part of why she hasn’t had much of a desire to move out. Simply she loves living where the dogs are. She’s in charge of their care and it’s the only thing she’s consistent about doing, even when she was spiraling out of control and running off with Anand before we got together. Finally, she has proof of her ability to stick things out. Yes, they are the things she likes but she has the proof now that she can do it. Soon, perhaps she can figure out how to apply that to the other facets of her life.

  I spend most of my spare time with Missy. I quickly realize she doesn’t bore me, annoy me or even particularly irritate me. Things are changed between us. Her realization of having ADHD and finding positive ways to actually change her habits and odd behavior, not to mention having sex with her, have worked and we are just discovering each other. Now I like being with her more than I do without her. I watch her daily attempts to accept herself and deal with her problems in more productive ways. She’s easy to respect and support so I cut her some slack. So does her family. But this time, no one is enabling her.

  I see her working with the dogs and smile. She earns quite a business and reputation from what was literally a hobby. She isn’t certified for anything and those who use her services pay her in cash but I recently hinted that it might be time for her to start becoming legit. She panics at my suggestion, unsure how to proceed. I’m good at those things and it comforts her to know I’ll help her. She might actually have stumbled onto a work ethic. Honestly? I really want her to have that. I can deal with her changing thoughts, conversations and her struggles to keep her time and her possessions in any kind of order. But I, like Will, really can’t handle her doing nothing. And lacking any desire to change that. I can’t stand laziness. I want her to find a better life.

  Relations with her entire family are vastly improved. She asks her parents to tell her sisters. Emily calls her from school and is cautiously supportive. But Christina is all in. She is excited that Melissa discovered the source of her confusion and gained some understanding. She wants to help her figure out the best ways to deal with it. Christina calls her often to show her support and share whatever information she learns. That often irritates Melissa, but I think it’s more about the bossiness thing she doesn’t like Christina doing to her than her genuine desire to help.

  For the most part, things are becoming quite smooth and calm compared to how Melissa used to be. I’m glad and astonished at how well we are doing although I appreciate it more and more the longer it goes on.

  It’s the middle of March now and one afternoon, I forgot to tell Missy I was having a study group from the new class I’m in, so right in the middle of it, she bursts through my front door, like she always does. She rarely, if ever, knocks. This is why I like to keep her appraised of my schedule. I know how inferior my pursuit of higher education makes her feel so I try to avoid rubbing her nose in it.

  She runs to my apartment because it’s chilly outside, and she didn’t wear a coat, as she often doesn’t. Her cheeks are bright pink and her multi–colored hat with the tassel makes her look nothing less than adorable. She has on an oversized sweater and leggings with big, fuzzy socks that she pulls up over them; these have big snowmen on the sides. She prefers to wear long, loud, multi–colored, brightly patterned, hideous socks. But she can pull it off successfully and make it a quirky fashion statement. At least, my sex–addled brain finds her adorable.

  She stops short when the study group of eight turn towards her and the animated conversation about our current project stops all at once. Her mouth drops open and her eyes widen. Easily five times prettier than anyone else in that room, including me, I don’t fail to notice all the guys’ gazes as they roam freely over her with visible appreciation.

  “Uh, hi,” she squeaks, glancing around.

  “Hi there,” Ron answers, shooting me a look. I don’t like the intent of it. Nor his condescending tone like she is a clueless little girl who accidentally bounded in there. “Who are you?”

  “Melissa.” She watches their faces and, of course, her name registers with no one. Her gaze finds mine and she mumbles, “Sorry, I didn’t know you had guests.”

  I rise after setting my book down. I circle the couch and approach her, kissing her quickly on the cheek. “Study group. For biology. Later?”

  “Yeah, sure, of course.” She smiles at the group again before spinning and starting to scurry out.

  Ron, however, grins at her lecherously and says, “Stay, Melissa. Stay for a while longer and give us all a break from this shit that’s killing our brains.”

  She glances at me, unsure. I nod with a shrug. I really don’t want her to stay. Not because of her, but because of them. I can only imagine how they might treat her.

  She walks over and sits like she usually does, on the floor near the couch. Right where I am sitting. It could be interpreted as subservient, I suppose. Like she’s sitting at my feet. I sigh. She just fidgets a lot so she often prefers to sit there on her knees or cross–legged or with her legs stretched out. Her fidgeting is another symptom. She’s restless most of the time.

  “So, Melissa, how long have been dating Seth here?” Ron asks.

  “Uh, a few months.”

  “Oh. Wow. No wonder he kept you a secret.”

  I grit my teeth when she glances up at me. I have not kept her a secret. Not like that. I mean, how does she relate to my master’s program? Why would I mix them? But now, she’s staring at me, obviously very unsure.

  Renee rolls her eyes. “Can we get back to the books if you’re done slobbering, Kirkpatrick?” She glances at Melissa with a tight smile. “Ignore him, he hasn’t gotten laid since his boyfriend dumped him.”

  Recently, I suspected Renee could actually be interested in me. In fact, she was exactly the type of girl I previously liked and dated. Renee is small and slim. Everything about her is petite from her boobs to her facial features. She and I often partner because we work well together. And yeah, she’s just as smart as I am. In academics. Since I started dating Melissa, I realize that kind of smart isn’t the only kind.

  Several snickers follow Renee’s burn on Ron. She’s always quick like that. Ron glares at her.

  We resume our discussion over what Professor Stylinski is seeking from the lab results. Melissa’s gaze wanders off, and I know she is into her own world. I get that. This stuff is over everyone’s head unless they studied all the research that led up to it.

  A short while passes by and Renee asks, “So what are you studying, Melissa?”

  Melissa stiffens, then she blinks several times as her mind returns from wherever she was. “Uh… I’m sorry… did you say study?”

  “Yeah. What’s your major? You’re a few years younger than us, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I’m younger. I’m actually not in school.”

  “Oh. Right.” She gives Melissa a tight, smug smile and I prepare for the worst. “What do you do then?”

  Melissa’s shoulders hunch forward almost in despair. “Um. Well, nothing. Right now. I’m looking for a job.” Why doesn’t she say she’s a dog trainer? And owns her own small business? She does but she says nothing about it. She still sees herself as the Melissa I used to kick out for having sex on my bed with Anand, not me.

  “Nothing? Oh, my God. You’re the perfect girlfriend,” Ron exclaims.


  Her entire body jerks as if he just hit her. She nods slowly, as if agreeing or something. I’m not sure. Then she says, “Yes. Yes, I am.”

  I lean forward and ruffle her hair. “She trains dogs. Runs—”

  But she interrupts me, obviously not hearing me and she jumps to her feet and mumbles, “I have to go. It was nice meeting you all.” Then she rushes out. I hastily follow her to the door but, I’m too late. I don’t catch her in time.

  “Holy shit. Is that your girlfriend?” Another friend asks.

  “Yes.” I come around the couch and sit back down before picking up my stuff.

 

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