And then Monroe had had to go and ruin it with his offer to buy the shopping plaza.
“Hide, hide!” Melanie jumped a foot. Claire came bustling in, yanking Melanie out of her amorous thoughts.
Only a couple of cars were parked outside to ensure the party would stay a surprise. The men were due to arrive ten minutes after Mrs. Eudora. Monroe was supposed to call Uncle Milton, and he was going to tell the others.
“They’re coming up the lane,” Claire shouted. “Cut the lights.”
“You gonna give her a heart attack if you jump out at her. We’ll stand near the door so she’ll see us as soon as she comes in,” Aunt Thelma added.
Claire hustled the kids up from their perch in front of the TV in the family room. She’d worked herself into such a state, the poor woman was winded by the time Mrs. Eudora appeared at the door.
Despite Aunt Thelma’s warning, seeing so many people in her house still shocked the older woman speechless.
“Well, I never expected this.” It was clear Mrs. Eudora was pleased. Very pleased.
Courtney ran to her and hugged her, then dragged Mrs. Eudora’s purse out of her hand.
“Put it on my bed, sweetie,” she whispered in her ear while hugging the child. When Courtney skipped away, Mrs. Eudora moved farther into the room. Even though her smile was bright, she fairly drooped with fatigue. Taking charge, Aunt Thelma steered her to a comfortable wingback chair in the living room.
“I know you’re hungry,” Aunt Thelma said, fussing over her. “I’ll fix you a plate.”
“I could use a bite to eat. Haven’t had a decent meal since I left here.” She shook her head. “Seems as though I’ve been gone forever. It sure is good to be home.” She looked around the room as if she couldn’t believe she was back. She was clearly overwhelmed. She rubbed the armrest. Things looked as they had when she’d left.
“Now, now. I kept things dusted and cleaned,” Mrs. Pearl assured her, tossing a narrow look at Aunt Thelma’s back. Mrs. Pearl didn’t like anybody taking over what she considered her territory.
Aunt Thelma returned with a plate heaping with enough food to satisfy a linebacker, and a warm damp washcloth for Mrs. Eudora to wash her hands with. After Mrs. Eudora wiped her hands, she took the plate.
“I missed good food most of all,” she said. “I’ve had enough bland food to last a lifetime. It was awfully nice for you all to welcome me home.”
“I only brought you a small piece of ham. I know you can’t eat much pork. But it’s as delicious as always.”
As Mrs. Eudora gloried in being woman of the hour, Melanie glanced across the room. Her gaze set on Monroe’s. He shut his cell phone and his gaze caressed her with its warmth and promise of intimacy and heat. Everything faded around her except him. Her body ached for his touch again. Things were different now. Before she hadn’t known what she was missing. Now that she’d sampled intense pleasure from him, volcanic heat spread through her body. She wanted him with each breath that she took. When a tender smile spread across his lips, she nearly spilled her glass of punch. She wanted to reach out to him; she yearned to walk into his welcoming embrace.
Melanie tore her gaze away. “I…I’m going to put your punch on the table.” With a trembling hand, Melanie placed the glass on the coaster. Mrs. Eudora looked sharply at her, then at Monroe, whom Mrs. Pearl had engaged in a conversation, and smiled. Melanie couldn’t meet the woman’s eyes, fearing their intimate encounter was printed all over her face.
Mrs. Eudora reached out and touched her hand tenderly. “It’s okay. You’ve made me the happiest woman in the world. I’ve never seen him so content,” she whispered in Melanie’s ear.
Melanie closed her eyes briefly because she couldn’t envision a future with Monroe. She loathed granting this kind and loving woman false hope, only to disappoint her. Convenient words trapped themselves in her throat. There was nothing she could say.
Boisterous laughter preceded Uncle Milton, Elmore and other men as they appeared through the door and headed to Mrs. Eudora, giving Melanie the opportunity to escape the woman’s knowing gaze. But Melanie couldn’t escape her feelings. After briefly speaking to the older woman, the men headed straight to the buffet.
Mrs. Eudora thought Melanie was the catalyst that would keep Monroe in town, but Melanie knew she didn’t possess that kind of control over him.
Every time Melanie looked up, Monroe was entertaining guests. God, he was such a striking man. Even more, he didn’t recognize his potency. It was a natural part of him. At the rate he was going, he would starve before he made it to the buffet table. Melanie fixed him a plate and handed it to him.
“Eat.”
He chuckled. “How did you know I was famished? Thank you, sweetheart.”
His voice whispered over her skin like a caress. Sweetheart? The moment was lost when someone new engaged him in conversation.
Mrs. Eudora tired easily, so the party was in full swing when Melanie led the older woman to her room for some peace and a nap. As soon as her head touched the pillow, Melanie turned the lights out and quietly left the room.
“Melanie needs a campaign manager. You know anyone capable of the job?” Gail asked her father, who was talking to Monroe.
“Heck girl, we’re going to tell everybody near and far. Won’t need any banners and flyers. People are going to know.”
Gail shook her head. “She needs a campaign manager, Dad. You know the mayor is going all out. She can’t do less.”
“We’re all going to be campaigning for her. Whatever she wants is okay with me.”
Monroe noticed that even at his grandmother’s party, except for Claire and Thelma, the Hickses and Carsons pretty much stayed with their own groups. The women had obviously built an alliance while working next door to each other.
Monroe sat in the soft chair by his grandmother’s bed.
“Welcome home,” he said.
“Glad to be here. And the party. Seeing everyone after so long. It was wonderful.”
“Not that you’d listen to me, but I think you overdid it on your first day.” Most of the people had left. Melanie and some of the ladies had remained behind to help Mrs. Pearl clean up.
“I’ll leave you so you can rest some more.”
She reached out and touched his hand. “Sit with me for a little while.”
Monroe settled back in the chair. Knowing very well Mrs. Pearl had regaled his grandmother with his and Melanie’s romance, he waited for the questions.
“Have you thought about building that rink for Courtney? She loves to ride and she’s very good. Competing would be good for her. It will open her up for different experiences.”
“I’ll consider it.”
“Jobs are pretty hard to come by around here. People could use the money.”
“Is that why you built the plaza?”
She patted the pillow behind her and moved to a more comfortable position.
“I had selfish reasons, too. I’d become complacent. Your grandfather and I were very active. We were always involved in things. We were leaders in the community.” Her eyes grew misty as she gazed at the photo of the tall, striking man on her bedside table.
“I was lucky, Monroe.” Her voice was as tender as her gaze. “I married the man I loved. At my age I never expected to find that again. Darn lucky to find it the first time. What we shared gives me the courage and strength to go on without him.”
She lifted her gaze to Monroe with the eyes of a woman who’d been thoroughly loved and who loved in return. It took a powerful and humble man to make a woman remember him that way. Monroe wished some of what his grandfather had had ran through his own veins. Instead he’d messed up things with Melanie before they’d started.
“But my life was running on empty—until Melanie came along. She charged into town like a hurricane, all excited and pumping everybody up. You should have seen her in those council meetings. Standing tall and proud, talking with a sophistication and knowledge that ha
d everybody eating out of her hand.”
“Except the mayor.”
She fanned a dismissive hand. “Oh, that old fool. I said to myself then, the town needs her. It needs somebody to shake them up. The people who run the shopping center need her. There aren’t enough jobs here. She could really do the residents of Summer Lake some good.”
Monroe bent and kissed his grandmother’s wrinkled cheek. “Good night. I’ll be back in the morning.”
She winked at him. “You and Melanie look great together.”
Monroe rolled his eyes. “You’re never going to give up on that, are you?”
Eudora shrugged and yawned. “Just an observation.”
Closing the bedroom door, Monroe joined Melanie in the kitchen. She and Thelma were helping Mrs. Pearl put away the last of the serving platters.
“I’m plumb ready for bed,” the older woman said. “What a nice party.”
Uncle Milton came in the back door. “I put all your dishes in the car, Thelma.” He tapped her on the backside, eliciting a yelp. Her cheeks actually heated up.
“You’re too old to be doing that, especially in front of the young folks.”
“Speak for yourself, woman. I’m not too old for anything. Let’s hustle.” Uncle Milton looked like a man ready to toss his wife onto the bed. “Melanie, I’ll drop you off.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll drop Melanie off on my way home,” Monroe muttered quickly. “Ready?”
“Let me get Courtney and grab my purse.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Pearl,” Monroe called out.
“Oh, any time. Come on by in the morning. I’ll have a nice breakfast cooked up.”
And an ear waiting to soak up gossip.
When Monroe returned home, the light was flashing on his answering machine. He depressed the Play button. The message was from someone at Emerson, the company that had bought out his company. His mouth tightened in irritation. He’d return the call in the morning.
Not fifteen minutes had passed when the phone rang again. It was the president of Emerson asking him to head the engineering team of a subsidiary they wanted to build in Pennsylvania. Aparently they wanted to manufacture a product Monroe had convinced his partners to market before everything fell apart.
“We’d like you and Eric to work together in the same positions you had before.” Eric had been the company’s CEO. But without the engineer to carry it off, they were left with nothing. “You’d have carte blanche in setting up the office, and in staffing.” When he named a salary far above what Monroe made in his own company, he was stunned.
Monroe told the man he’d get back to him in a few days and hung up the phone. He’d gotten a few nibbles from his headhunter, but nothing as impressive as this, and not nearly the control. Often with cutbacks, you were working with a fraction of the staff needed to do the job right. Then you had to contend with inferior materials, trying to save a couple dollars on the bottom line, often finishing with an inferior product. They also had to cater to the stockholder, not necessarily make moves that were best for the company.
The one thing Monroe could say about his company was that their products were top of the line. They owned it. They didn’t have to answer to stockholders who were looking for sizable profits each quarter. Which was why so many companies wanted to buy them out.
Monroe headed to the shower. If he took the job, he’d have to leave Melanie, he thought as he stepped into the spray. The warm water cascaded over his head and body, but it did nothing to ease the dread.
And every time he thought of Melanie going on without him, his need to be with her increased. He washed quickly and, after rinsing, he twisted the knob to turn off the water. Stepping out of the shower, he toweled dry.
Was she already in bed? Instead of going to bed himself, he pulled on briefs and jeans and the first T-shirt he could find, and found himself in his car headed toward Melanie’s.
Before he got there, he had second thoughts. He stopped his car in the middle of the deserted road. Except for the path his high beams lit, everything was pitch-black around him.
He couldn’t lay his problems on Melanie. She had her own to contend with. All the tenants at Village Square ran to her at the slightest whiff of trouble. Half the town laid their burdens on her and she didn’t need one more person knocking on her door.
He turned his car around and found himself headed to the only smoky bar in town.
The blasting music drove him inside. He wasn’t much for hanging out at bars, but who could think with all the noise? He didn’t want to think. He wanted to get lost in something. At least he didn’t recognize anyone there. He ordered a scotch and water. The bartender set it in front of him on a nondescript white cocktail napkin but Monroe didn’t drink immediately.
He was just beginning to move on in his life. Everything had happened so fast. One minute he’d owned a company. The next he’d lost it and his wife. After they’d sold, he’d stayed on at Emerson to finish the project he’d been working on, according to the terms of their agreement. Before he’d finished, his grandmother had had the stroke.
Everything had happened at once. He hadn’t settled down long enough to think, much less plot out a future. Then Melanie, like a tempest, had blown into his life. He wanted more time to get to know her. He didn’t want the whirlwind courtship he’d had with Dorian. He wanted to take his time with her.
Suddenly he wanted to live again. He was ready to go on with his life. Melanie had a lot to do with that.
Monroe hadn’t touched his drink. He wasn’t feeling the bar scene. He walked out to the warm night breeze. Once again, he pointed his car toward Melanie’s house. He didn’t have to talk about his offer. He just wanted to be with her.
There were advantages to living in the middle of nowhere with no nosy neighbors to spy on you. A cover of trees blocked the view of Melanie’s house from the road.
When Monroe arrived at her driveway, one lone light shone like a beacon at the end of the lane. He had second thoughts again about approaching her, but his body won out over his brain.
If he had just a short time left in Summer Lake, he wanted to spend as much of it as he could with her.
Chapter 9
Melanie had just stepped out of the shower and smoothed lotion over her skin when the doorbell rang.
Who on earth could be at her door at this time of night? Pulling on a housecoat, she went to answer it. When she peeped through the curtain she saw Monroe staring back at her.
She dragged in a deep breath and opened the door.
“Where’s Courtney?” he asked.
“In bed.”
With effort he moved away from her. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he went to the family room. “What a long day.”
“Is your grandmother sleeping well?”
“Like a rock.” He walked over to the window and looked out into nothing.
“You seem troubled. Is she giving you a hard time?”
Monroe shook his head. He might as well say it. “I got a job offer tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“The company that bought out my company offered me a new job in their new plant as chief of the technical branch.” He looked at her to gauge her reaction.
“How…how soon will you be leaving?”
“I haven’t accepted yet. A lot of details to work out.”
“But you want it.”
“It gives me more control than any other offer.”
“I see. Mrs. Eudora will be disappointed to see you leave, but she’ll be happy you found work you enjoy.”
“What about you, Melanie?”
“If it’s what you want…”
Monroe really wanted to know what she felt on a personal level.
“Courtney and I will miss you.”
“I’ve decided to build the rink…”
“No.”
“Even if I leave, I’m not selling the farm.”
“No.”
Monroe growled in frustr
ation. “Why do you always fight me? When I leave here, I want to know you and Courtney will be okay.”
Her chin rose. “We’ll be okay.”
He wasn’t so sure of that. Who was he fooling? This was the woman who’d left her controlling husband and had talked a lonely old lady into building a shopping plaza. This was the woman who gave that same old lady a reason for hanging on. This was the woman who stood at a gas station in a nowhere town and saw possibilities.
She reminded him of himself so many years ago. A dreamer. She was running for mayor and there was no question that she would win. He wanted her. He needed her. He replayed his last conversation with his grandmother in his mind. But he couldn’t be selfish and ask Melanie to leave these people who needed her so much.
Monroe had never felt this incredible connection with another woman—with another person, period. He didn’t want to leave without Melanie. But he couldn’t farm for the rest of his life. The place ran just fine without him. He needed to work in his chosen profession and he couldn’t do that here.
Melanie’s smile was encouraging and accepting. She patted the seat beside her. “Come sit down and tell me about this new job.”
He hadn’t meant to do that. He hadn’t meant to lay his burdens on her. But without hesitation, he sank to the couch beside her, needing to touch, to be near her—and began to tell her about the project he’d suggested before they’d sold. He began to relax while he discussed it. She was a great listener. And he was comfortable talking to her in a way he was never comfortable talking to Dorian. He and Dorian didn’t talk about his work. They didn’t talk about much of anything at all.
Was this camaraderie what his grandparents had shared? It wasn’t flamboyant, or outlandish. He was…comfortable. How bland. But he felt warm inside, soothed.
How could he…how could he for a moment leave his sweet southern comfort?
The next morning as Melanie made oatmeal and cut up fruit for Courtney’s breakfast, she was in one bad mood. As soon as something good came into her life, it was being snatched away.
Sweet Southern Comfort Page 12
