She glanced around. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know.” Gail left to speak with her mother, who was always up-to-date on the latest news.
A huge cheer rent the air and everyone on the Lake Explosion side started clapping. Monroe glanced at her with a question on his brow. Melanie shrugged.
In a couple of minutes, Gail sprinted back to Melanie, a huge grin splitting her face.
She immediately hugged Melanie. “Girl, why didn’t you tell me? It’s about time. Just tell me what to do. I’ll help you.”
Baffled, Melanie looked at Gail as if she were crazy. “What are you talking about?”
Gail rolled her eyes. “You’re running for mayor. That’s what everyone was cheering about.”
“What?” Melanie glanced around and sure enough everybody was grinning and started clapping again—Hickses and Carsons alike.
“That’s what Mama told me. You’re going to have to get a campaign manager. We’ll all pitch in for expenses. We don’t expect you to carry the burden alone. That’s what fund-raising is for.”
Melanie hadn’t given the political position a thought. As if she really had the time to run for office. But everyone had been depressed over the buyers the mayor kept canvassing. Obviously, he hadn’t heard the false rumor because he stood near Monroe with that same self-important smirk on his face.
Instead of doing something to help the community, he was trying to tear down the two years of hard work they’d put into the plaza.
Melanie didn’t have the heart to correct the others. She’d have to sleep on it.
“I feel so much better. He’s going to have his work cut out for him. If he wants even a fighting chance, he won’t have time to search out prospective buyers.”
Melanie glanced around. The shop owners were sitting straighter in their seats. The ones standing were standing tall.
She focused on Monroe. The players were hovered together and he was giving them instructions. They had yet to win a game. But on the last game, the score was tied. The extra time they’d put in for individual training was already apparent.
It was almost as if Monroe were two people. He could be so kind, yet he had the power to pull the rug out from under their feet.
How on earth could she let these people down?
The Explosion won their game. The girls were so joyful, Monroe had to remind them to shake hands with the opposing team. They hopped into line and completed the duty before they raced back to the sidelines jumping and screaming.
Monroe gave the girls a moment to enjoy their victory before he talked to them. Courtney nearly bowled him over when she launched herself into his arms for a hug.
Monroe stood in place, clearly stunned.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Then she raced back to her friends as if it had never happened.
“You okay?” Melanie asked.
“Sure.” But he was clearly touched.
“She can be a little overwhelming if you aren’t used to her.”
“I’ve noticed.”
The girls huddled together. Then as one they ran to Monroe and tossed their drinks over his head. Melanie moved back so she wouldn’t be soaked as well.
The parents laughed at his reaction.
“Mama, can I go home with Aunt Thelma? Uncle Milton’s going to start the grill. We’re having a cookout.”
“All the kids are coming over,” Aunt Thelma said. “We’ll drop them off at home later on. You don’t have to pick ’em up.”
“All of them?”
Aunt Thelma turned and started to walk away. “Wouldn’t be right otherwise.”
“All right,” Melanie said.
Uncle Milton drove one van and his son drove the other. Hickses and Carsons scrambled into one vehicle or the other in a jumble.
“I can’t believe it,” Monroe said as the cars disappeared in a cloud of dust and he dried himself off with a towel.
Melanie shook her head. Neither could she.
People started leaving until only a handful remained. They started carrying things to the car. A few yards away Melanie noticed two teens bickering. One was a Carson. The other a Hicks, of course. Before Monroe could approach them, they were punching at each other.
Monroe ran to them, and pulled them apart, but they were still swinging. Before he knew it, there was a gash on his arm and someone had popped him upside the head.
“Quit it!”
They stopped as if stunned. “Sorry, Mr. Bedford. Didn’t mean to hit you.”
“Well you did. And this is the last game you’ll attend. Stay away until you learn how to act. Both of you. Now go.”
“I’m ashamed of you, Marcus Carson,” Melanie said. “What’s gotten into you? And you too, Roger Hicks. What’s the matter with you? Go home right now!”
“Sorry, Melanie.”
“Sorry doesn’t cut it.”
Looking sheepish, the boys got into their respective cars and drove away.
With the dust settling in the air, Melanie saw Monroe’s arm for the first time. “You’re bleeding. I’ve got some bandages.”
She rushed to the first-aid bag she kept on hand for the games and took out wipes and bandages. “Here, sit on the bench.”
Melanie tore open the antiseptic package and swabbed the cut before she bandaged it. Monroe didn’t utter a whimper as she worked with fingers that felt like all thumbs. By now they were alone in the park, and Melanie felt the isolation.
Monroe wrapped his hands around her waist and kissed her stomach. She felt the heat of his breath through her wispy blouse.
The desire that rocked through Melanie startled her. She lifted a hand and rubbed his shoulders, his head.
He pulled her down until she was sitting on his lap and he guided her mouth to his, kissing her deeply. Feeling warm and aroused, she returned his kiss with equal fervor.
“I must be out of my mind,” Melanie said when she came up for breath.
“Why?”
“There’s just too many things unsettled between us and I’ve gone to bed with you.”
“The plaza.”
“That and the fact that you’re on the rebound.”
“Dorian and I have been divorced long enough for me to move on. Aren’t you ready for something more?”
“But you still have feelings for her.”
“You know, I thought I was still angry with her, but today when I saw her, I didn’t feel anything. I didn’t feel anger, hurt, love. It’s over. As for the plaza, my grandmother is too old to handle the units.”
“It’s more than that.” Melanie looped her arms around his neck and settled close to him. “Don’t you realize she needs the plaza? Making a difference helps her feel useful. It gives her life purpose. Regardless of how old you are, you still need a reason for being. The plaza gives her a reason to get up every day. She does very little anyway. She comes to my shop almost daily. Not to work, but because she needs to be around people—people who care.
“Besides, if the plaza is a problem, I’ll be more than willing to handle it. Except she isn’t going to let me take it over completely. Because it’s her baby.”
“I don’t want to talk about the plaza, Melanie. I just want you.” He brought her head to his once more and kissed her.
“Have dinner with me,” he said minutes later.
“I cooked this morning. Have dinner with me.”
“Okay.”
The inside of his car was charged with need and expectation as they drove home.
Monroe reached across the seat and gathered Melanie’s hand in his. Bringing it to his lips, he planted a warm kiss.
Melanie was still peeved over his offer to buy the plaza, but maybe she was putting too much into it. She wasn’t willing to cross that line between business and lover, even though he might be willing to.
Chapter 8
It took Melanie more than a week to reach Gregory, her lawyer friend from D.C.
“You know, you wouldn’t ha
ve a thing to worry about if you just married me,” he said half joking, half serious.
“I couldn’t do that to a dear friend.”
“A woman of morals. You’re a rare breed.”
“You only feel that way because you date the wrong kind of women.”
“If she’s a looker, she’s the right kind.”
“One day, is all I have to say,” Melanie said, wishing he dated more serious women, the kind who wanted him for the tender man beneath the bold exterior. One who really loved him.
“Well, since you won’t have me, I have to settle for the next best thing.”
“That’s just a convenient excuse. I hate to ask more of you. Not after everything you’ve done for me.” He’d been the only lawyer willing to take on her divorce case even though that wasn’t his forte. Had it not been for him, she and Courtney would have been left nearly destitute. Her ex would have turned over any stone to hold on to all the money, as if the thousands of meals she’d cooked over the years meant nothing, along with the floors she’d scrubbed and the bathrooms she’d cleaned before they could afford a housekeeper. As if the professional functions she’d overseen didn’t count. As if the nights of helping their daughter with homework, taking her to extracurricular activities, functioning as PTA president, helping out in school and caring for their home were inconsequential. And she would have lost custody of Courtney, even though her ex had spent little time with the child, even when they’d lived under the same roof. Even though her house wasn’t as grand as their home in D.C. had been, Gregory had made it possible for her to pay for her house in cash, cruise out of town in her Cadillac SRX and thumb her nose at the SOB on her way.
“You can ask me anything, you know that,” Gregory was saying.
She explained her situation to him.
“I know a few investors who might be willing to take on the loan. First, put together a business plan and we’ll go from there.”
“Thanks, Gregory.”
“Anytime, sweetheart.”
Slowly Melanie hung up the phone, relief spreading through her. If Gregory said he would help, it was as good as done. She couldn’t wait to tell the other tenants. That’d really stick in the mayor’s craw.
“Grandma, I want you to move into my house while you recuperate,” Monroe said. “I have a room already set up for you.” He tossed her plastic pitcher into a box. She’d accumulated so much stuff while at the hospital, he should have brought the truck.
“I’m going to my own house,” she said, with a stubborn tilt to her chin. “I miss it.” She folded some slacks neatly and piled them on top of a stack in her suitcase.
“I have a downstairs bedroom. You won’t have to climb stairs.”
“So do I.”
Monroe sighed. “Fine. If you refuse to stay with me, I’ll move into your house.” The older she got, the more difficult she became.
“No, you won’t.”
Monroe struggled with annoyance. “You’ve got to fight about everything, don’t you? Why don’t you listen to reason? You can’t stay alone. I won’t have it. Either you move in with me or I’m moving in with you. Period.”
“I will box your ears. Don’t think you’re too old.”
Monroe glanced at the little scrap of a woman.
“I’ve already hired someone,” she said, her chin tilted with defiance. “Pearl’s going to stay with me for as long as I need her.”
“She runs a cleaning business. You’ll be alone during the day.”
“Those girls know how to clean by now. She’s just in the way with nothing else to do but bug people. She can take care of her paperwork at my place.” She snapped the suitcase closed. “My things are all packed. I’m ready to go home.”
“As soon as I pack the car, I’ll come back for you.” Monroe gathered her suitcase and one of the bags. Between thoughts of Melanie and his grandmother, his temper was quickly rising.
Maybe having Mrs. Seaborn occupied with his grandmother would keep the housekeeper from butting into his affairs. Maybe he could have Melanie over to his house without worrying about his business spreading all over town. Not that he was trying to keep her a secret. He just wasn’t used to people meddling in his affairs.
Although he dated Melanie, unofficially anyway, she still hadn’t completely forgiven him for offering to buy the plaza. She flat out refused to discuss it with him under any terms. Why couldn’t she believe that he had a heart? That he didn’t want to put all those people out of business? But just like his grandmother, she was a stubborn woman. He was destined to be surrounded by them.
In the face of her unbending nature, he had no option but to let the plaza rest—for now.
Mrs. Eudora was coming home. Melanie arranged the party with Mrs. Pearl’s help. The older woman came over the day before to supervise the cleaning and move her things into a spare bedroom.
The shopkeepers from the plaza all contributed something for the party. Melanie, her aunt Thelma, Claire and Gail set up Mrs. Eudora’s dining-room table with the food and drinks. Melanie contributed Mrs. Eudora’s special peach pie. The aroma from Aunt Thelma’s hot yeast rolls were so tempting, Melanie wanted to slather them with butter and eat a dozen, but she’d only eaten one—so far. Thanks to her aunt’s great cooking, Melanie’s waistline was already thickening and her jeans were hugging her hips a little too tightly. And she didn’t have the money to buy a new wardrobe, especially since the future of her business was still up in the air.
The one person they didn’t invite was the mayor.
“That’s the strawberry jam the kids made,” Aunt Thelma said, dishing the jam into a colorful bowl. “Seeing as how much she’s taken with little Courtney, I thought she’d appreciate it. I’ve got a whole jar just for her in that basket over there.” Aunt Thelma and Claire had made up a basket of goodies from the proprietors. Melanie had contributed romance and thriller novels.
“I’m sure she will enjoy it.” Melanie had to admit the jam came out very well. Maybe she should have sat in with the kids. But the thought of Monroe and her making love that night had her face heating up.
“It is pretty warm in here. Maybe we should get Pearl to turn the air-conditioning up.”
“I’m all right. No need to do that.”
“Melanie,” Aunt Thelma said, dishing a jar of watermelon pickles into a dish. “You’ve got to start your campaign right away.”
“My decision isn’t signed in stone yet.”
“I know. But if you’re going to do it, you’re going to have to announce it soon, and in church. Andrew has been the mayor so long, most people don’t go to the polls any longer. We’ve got to get people interested. Got to get them motivated to make the effort. Jobs speak to people’s heart. They already know the mayor’s gonna do nothing. But he’s a fast talker. He’ll talk up this company like they have the community’s interest at heart. But the only thing I see coming is low wages and no benefits. We need something bigger to hoist the town up.”
“That’s for sure. I wish I could pull a large company in. It would keep the young college graduates in town and draw more customers for the stores, not only ours but others in town. Jobs keep a town growing.”
“You see? We need young blood to stir things up, to keep us from stagnating. Andrew’s been the mayor too long. He’s gotten lazy with the job. He was always lazy.”
“You’re determined to make me run, aren’t you?”
“You’re right about that. And while we’re on the subject of the mayor, I heard it was a long time before you got home after the game. After the boys started throwing punches, you and Monroe were the only ones left at the park. What took you so long to leave?”
“If we were the only ones there, how do you know how long it took us to leave?”
“You’ve got to pass by Fanny’s house. She likes to look out the window to see who’s driving by. And she knew exactly when Monroe’s car drove by with you sitting in the passenger seat. What were you doing out there?”
<
br /> “Monroe got scraped when he broke up the fight. I had to bandage him up.”
Her aunt gave her a narrow look. “Took that long to put on a bandage? Christ, child I could bandage a knee and keep on trucking. Maybe you were bandaging up that broken heart of his.”
“I think his heart’s mended.”
“You know I never cared that much for the Hickses, but I never had much against them, either. It’s Milton who won’t let the past go. But what that gal did to Monroe was pure dirty. Some people have no couth. She knew Monroe was here and she goes sporting that baby about like a trophy or something. He’s got to feel mighty bad to lose his wife the way he did. So if you did stay behind to pet him up a little, I don’t see any harm done.”
“You won’t leave it alone, will you?”
“Girl, you think I don’t see the spark in your eyes when he comes around? And you don’t think I see him ’bout to break his neck to watch you when you’re around him? I’m not the only one noticing things. And it’s got nothing to do with the plaza.” Her aunt smiled. “Fanny is some kind of angry with you. She had her heart set on getting him for her son-in-law.”
“What’re you all whispering about over here?” Gail asked.
“Your cousin and her new beau.”
“Oh, that. If you don’t intervene, it might take you a couple of years to get him to the altar,” Gail said.
“He’s not that slow, girl. Believe me,” Aunt Thelma said. “He’s making his moves.”
Melanie couldn’t stop the heat from seeping to her face. She hoped it didn’t show. Aunt Thelma had her eye on everything. Nothing skipped her observation.
“As hard as you work, how do you keep up with all the news?” she asked the older woman.
“If I could only do one thing at a time, I’d be in big trouble.”
Melanie was grateful Aunt Thelma had kept her radar hidden the evening she and Monroe had made love. The intense feelings she felt that night were new and exciting. That deep, piercing need and complete satisfaction had been missing with her ex. Probably because he was too busy spreading his joy to too many administrative assistants looking for raises. Contrary to what some men thought, they couldn’t give their all to more than one woman.
Sweet Southern Comfort Page 11
