Melanie observed Stephanie as she lowered herself by her daughters and placed a hand on each of their pink-and-purple padded ski jackets. “It’s not always polite to ask questions about situations that don’t concern us. I’m sure Candy Lee will manage to get to college, so let’s leave it at that. Now, Clovis and Odie are probably freezing their fur off in the Navigator. You two grab your bags, and I’ll take care of your skis and poles.” Stephanie looked at Melanie. “Keeping up with them wears me out sometimes, but it’s the best worn-out you’ll ever experience.”
Melanie squinted her eyes and scrunched up her nose. “As Mom keeps reminding me, I don’t have a man in my life, no children, and I just don’t see either one happening anytime in the near future. At the rate I’m going, I’ll be lucky to adopt another animal from the shelter, so I’ll just take your word even though the time I spend with the girls is the best ever.” She teared up at the thought of not having the two little sprites in her life. She was content to remain Auntie M.
For now.
With Odie and Clovis relegated to the rear cargo area and both girls safely ensconced in their seat belts, Melanie glanced in her rearview mirror one last time, making sure they all were where they should be. She recalled the last time she’d taken the girls skiing. They’d wound up lost in a snowstorm and had delivered a litter of pups. Now she could smile at the memory. Grateful that Stephanie still allowed her within pitching distance of the girls, she shrugged her thoughts aside, focusing on their plans for the day.
Black Friday was usually one of Maximum Glide’s busiest days. Melanie dreaded the crowds, the long lines at the chairlifts, but spending the day with the girls was worth the hassle. Both girls were excellent skiers. Max, Grace’s husband, had taught the girls how to ski properly. Black diamond runs were easy for both, but Melanie wasn’t that comfortable with them, so they’d tackle the blue runs.
She steered the Navigator carefully down the narrow road, mindful of the wet slushy conditions. Growing up in Colorado had its advantages. She’d learned to drive in foul weather at an early age, and while she wasn’t excited at the prospect of driving up the mountain in such bad conditions, she was quite confident in her ability to do so safely. Snow chains and four-wheel-drive vehicles had nothing on her.
“Auntie M,” Ashley called from the backseat. “Do you think you’ll ever get married?”
Melanie almost lost control of the Navigator. She cleared her throat, needing the extra seconds to come up with an answer appropriate for an eleven-year-old. “I’m sure that someday I will.” Lame, Melanie, lame, she thought as she glanced in her rearview mirror. Ashley wasn’t buying it; Melanie could tell by the look on her face.
“That’s not an answer! You sound just like Mom. ‘Maybe’ and ‘someday’ aren’t real answers,” Ashley stated in that clear and concise matter-of-fact way eleven-year-olds have.
Melanie chuckled. Ashley was right. “Truthfully, I don’t know when or if I’ll ever get married because I haven’t dated anyone long enough to fall in love, so marriage hasn’t been my number one priority.”
“What’s a priority?” Amanda asked.
“It means something that is very important, right Auntie M?” Ashley replied.
“Yes, that’s exactly what it means. And right now my top priority is to arrive safely at The Snow Zone so we can drop Clovis and Odie off. I need to focus my attention on the road. It’s incredibly slick.”
Again, Melanie glanced in her rearview mirror. Ashley rolled her eyes.
“That means we’re not supposed to ask any more questions about Aunt Melanie’s personal life.”
“Why?” Amanda asked.
With her engagement to Patrick, Stephanie talked about marriage constantly. It seemed the girls had acquired an avid interest in the topic as well.
Melanie wanted to tell the girls it was okay with her to ask such questions, just not while she was driving on an icy road, but this was Stephanie’s rule, and she would respect that.
“You ask too many questions,” Ashley informed her little sister. “Doesn’t she?”
Melanie peeped in her rearview mirror again. “It’s okay, Ash. All little girls like to ask questions.”
“Mom says Amanda talks too much, but I would really like to know if you plan on getting married sometime in the future, because Krissy Haygood—she’s a girl in my class—all she talks about is her big sister getting married this summer. She’s the maid of honor and said it was highly unusual for someone her age to act as maid of honor, and, well, I sort of thought if you were to get married, or think about it, maybe I could ... you know, be your maid of honor.”
For once, Melanie was at a loss for words. She never remembered having such desires or thoughts when she was eleven, but times were different, kids matured earlier nowadays. She took a deep breath, fearing she was about to put her foot in her mouth, but decided if she did get married, there would be absolutely no reason that Ashley couldn’t act as her maid of honor.
“When I get married, I promise to ask you to be my maid of honor.”
Chapter 2
Melanie wrapped a thick towel around her wet hair, swooped her old worn-out yellow terry-cloth robe off the hook on the back of the bathroom door, slipped her arms inside, then secured the belt around her waist. She hurried to the kitchen just in time to hear the microwave’s bell ding.
After spending the morning skiing, and the afternoon instructing the girls how to make a slip knot to cast on, Melanie was pleasantly worn out. Too tired to make a proper dinner, she’d popped in a microwave meal while she showered. Clovis and Odie were curled together beneath the kitchen table, waiting. She smiled at the sight.
“I know you two had more than your share of treats today, so what is it?” Melanie asked as she removed her lasagna from the microwave, placing the black plastic container on a dinner plate.
Odie yawned, and Clovis gave her his “don’t-mess-with-me” look. Sure that Clovis had been an emperor in another life, Melanie turned around and gave the feline a quick bow. She did a double take when Clovis nodded his furry head, then reclined against Odie’s belly. He really does think he’s an emperor.
I am definitely spending too much time alone.
This reminded her of Ashley’s earlier question. Would she ever marry? Have children of her own? She certainly didn’t have any prospects, but that was her own doing. Since she’d started working from her home, she’d devoted most of her spare time to caring for her pets and to Stephanie’s little family. She loved the excitement on the girls’ faces when she surprised them with a visit or an unexpected treat. She often wished for a family, a child of her own, but knew until she met the man of her dreams, it was not to be. She was still young, still had enough time to pick and choose the right man. Thing was, the man supply had grown very slim since college. Most of the guys she’d met and dated in college were married with families of their own, and those who weren’t already taken were not her type. Whatever that was.
So, she thought as she grabbed a can of soda from the refrigerator, what exactly is my type?
Tall, dark, and handsome? No.
Sensitive and shy? No.
Alpha male? Definitely a no.
She took a drink of soda. After several seconds’ contemplation, Melanie decided she didn’t have a type. She’d dated winners, a few losers, but none that knocked her socks off or made her feel like “he’s the one.” Nope. Nada. So, that left room for all those guys out there who were just waiting to beat her door down. Zero in that department, too.
For a young, well-to-do woman, she wasn’t doing all that well. Yes, she had a condo to die for here in Placerville, another in Telluride that she kept rented for most of the ski season, and she was considering buying a house with a big yard, a white picket fence, the whole nine yards. She’d put that big purchase off, telling herself she didn’t need that much space. Her condo in Placerville was perfect for her. She scanned the kitchen. While not as large as her condo’s kitchen in Tel
luride, it was decent. Large enough for a table for six, an oak butcher-block island in its center, Sub-Zero refrigerator, a top-of-the-line Wolf stove and oven, all stainless steel. She’d softened the sterile look with cheery yellow accent pieces: canisters, local pottery, yellow and red Fiestaware, accentuated by cherry red place mats and matching curtains she’d had custom-made.
She’d chosen pale pinks and cream for the master bedroom, and a neutral gray and maroon for the guest bedroom. Both bathrooms had Jacuzzi tubs and walk-in showers large enough for two. The living room needed some color; she’d just never gotten around to finishing the decorating. Two beige sofas with a matching love seat and two overstuffed chairs filled the room. A fireplace on the main wall had been used only once since she’d bought the place, but Melanie told herself it was too much of a hassle, since she spent most of her time in the third bedroom she used for her office. She had a gas fireplace there, and, when needed, all she had to do was flick a switch and boom, within minutes, the room was as toasty as a wood fire. She did miss the smell of wood smoke, but figured the lack of a mess was worth the sacrifice.
She finished her lasagna, rinsed the plate, and placed it next to the others in the dishwasher. Sometimes it took her more than a week to fill the dishwasher. Sad, she thought as she removed the box of Cascade from beneath the sink. She either needed to cook more, have company over more often, or acquire a big family. There it goes again! Why couldn’t she stop thinking about a family of her own? Was she spending too much time with Amanda and Ashley? Was she subconsciously envious of Stephanie? Growing up an only child, she’d longed for a brother or sister. Melanie had been a change-of-life baby, much wanted, her mother always added, and she knew that to be true, but she had also known that the chances of her acquiring a sibling were slim to none.
She wondered why her parents hadn’t adopted another child. They were certainly financially able, they’d both been in good health and still were. Maybe it was a blood-is-thicker-than-water kinda thing. No, no! Her parents weren’t like that. They would have welcomed another child. Maybe they’d never considered it. Whatever, she told herself, it didn’t matter now as she was a grown woman. She knew that her parents were counting on her to provide them with a houseful of grandchildren to spoil someday. She hoped they weren’t holding their breaths.
Rolling her eyes at the path her thoughts were traveling, Melanie grabbed a damp cloth, swiped it over the countertops, then washed and refilled Odie’s and Clovis’s water dishes. She folded the dishcloth in half, placed it on the counter, and grabbed another soda from the refrigerator.
Odie emitted a low growl, which was followed by a junglelike meow from Clovis. “Come on, you two, it’s time to call it a day.” She said this every night to the pair of mismatched animals. Like clockwork, they wiggled out from under the kitchen table and followed her to her office.
She’d promised herself she wasn’t going to work the rest of the holiday season, said she wasn’t going to turn her computer on until the year had ended, but she hadn’t voiced the promise out loud, so that was okay. As long as she hadn’t verbalized the commitment to anyone else, she wasn’t really worried about being accountable to anyone for breaking her promise, something she normally wouldn’t do. Without another thought, Melanie went to her desk, clicked on the lamp, then hit the ON button to her high-end Titanus computer. A slight hum from the machine was the only sound in the room. Odie and Clovis had found their favorite spot by the fireplace. There wasn’t anything or anyone to prevent her from doing what she was about to do.
She logged on to the Internet, typed Google into her browser, then typed three words and hit SEARCH.
Adoption in Colorado.
Her heart raced, and her stomach fluttered as though a thousand butterflies were dancing inside her. So many Web sites appeared, Melanie was sure she’d misspelled something. She typed the words a second time, this time watching her hands as they moved across her keyboard.
A-d-o-p-t-i-o-n-I-n–C-o-l-o-r-a-d-o. She hit the SEARCH icon.
Again, hundreds and hundreds of Web sites appeared on her screen.
“Okayyy, I can do this,” she said out loud.
Melanie clicked on the first blue hyperlink at the top of her screen. She scanned the Web site, knew she didn’t want to travel across the globe to China, and clicked on the second link. She perused the contents, then moved on to the next site.
After two hours of reading about Colorado’s many adoption agencies, Melanie leaned back in her chair and twisted her stiff neck from left to right, her mind wondering at all the possibilities she’d just examined.
Is it possible?
She thought of all the tabloids she’d scanned while in line at the supermarket. It seemed just about every superstar in Hollywood was adopting a child. Many of them were single. If they could do this, why couldn’t she? She was financially able to provide for a child, and she certainly had lots of love to give. Her parents would be surprised at first, but Melanie knew that once they got used to the idea, they would be as thrilled as she was beginning to feel.
Yes! She could do this! She would do this. First thing tomorrow morning, she was going to call World Adoption Agency in Denver, a local orphanage. Out of all the Web sites, this one held the most appeal. Children of every age, every race, some with health issues, some with emotional troubles, resided at the state-funded home. Yes, this would offer her a wide selection of children from around the world. Sex or age didn’t matter to her. Melanie sensed she would know exactly which child she would adopt when the time came.
Chapter 3
At one minute past eight, Melanie dialed the number for World Adoption Agency. They opened at 8:00 A.M. according to their Web site and were open on Saturdays. It was meant to be, she figured, because it was Saturday, and she had absolutely nothing planned.
She wasn’t going to waste another minute worrying about the timing of her phone call. Her mother always told her the early bird catches the worm. She’d been unable to sleep last night as thoughts of adopting a child filled her brain. Finally, around four in the morning, she’d given up all hope of sleeping, took a long, hot shower, and dressed in her old denim jeans and her favorite University of Colorado sweatshirt. She’d taken Odie for a short walk throughout the complex.
Impatient now that she’d decided to act on what she thought of as her newly budding motherly instinct, she didn’t bother with the greenway behind the condos. Odie knew something was awry when she rushed him through his morning routine. He barked as though he were asking what did she think she was doing, then dropped his head to his chest.
“I promise we’ll take an extra-long walk later,” she told him. That had seemed to cheer the boxer up.
Back inside, Melanie made bacon and eggs for breakfast, giving half to Clovis and Odie. After she cleaned up, she stripped the sheets from her bed, tossed them in the washing machine, and mopped the kitchen floor. When she couldn’t find anything else to distract her, she’d taken Amanda and Ashley’s knitting needles from the baskets she’d given them. She removed several knots, rewound yarn, then tucked the beginner’s instruction booklets neatly beside the balls of red and green yarn. On the verge of climbing the walls, Melanie brewed another pot of coffee and sat at the kitchen table watching as the hands on the clock turned more slowly than they ever had. Or so it seemed.
Just what I need—more caffeine. As if I’m not wound up enough.
And now that she had made the call, all she heard on the other end of the phone was an answering machine asking her to please leave her name and number, and they would return her call as soon as it was convenient. How dare they do this to her!
Melanie wanted to scream. This was ridiculous. There are hundreds of children just waiting for a home, and she’s told to wait! Maybe she’d picked the wrong agency. If she owned such a business, if one even wanted to call an orphanage a business, she would make sure she never missed an opportunity to place a child. Deciding she would search for another agency, Melan
ie practically ran to her office.
The ringing telephone stopped her dead in her tracks.
The kitchen or the office? She was in the middle. The kitchen. She raced the few feet back to the kitchen, and grabbed the phone. Exhaling, she spoke into the receiver. “Hello?”
A heavily accented voice said, “I am returning your phone call.”
Without asking, Melanie knew this was the adoption agency.
“Uh, yes, I called. I wanted to ... I was thinking of adopting—”
“Madam, that is why most people call us.”
Madam?
“Oh, well, of course.” Now that she had the agency on the phone, she was suddenly at a loss for words.
“Miss,” the woman with the accent said. “I am a very busy woman. You called the agency, I am to assume that there was a reason.”
It took Melanie a second to recover. “Yes, I would like to know what the procedure is for adopting a child.”
There, she’d said it; she couldn’t take it back now!
Melanie heard the woman’s sharp intake of breath. “This is not the way we practice. You must schedule an appointment with the office first. If we decide to consider your application, then you will be given the proper instructions.”
Melanie visualized the woman on the phone. Tall, stern, with waist-length hair pulled back in a tight bun. She thought of the children in her care. She decided to act quickly.
“Then I would like to make an appointment as soon as possible.”
Another deep sigh, then the fluttering of paper. Melanie wondered if the woman was actually looking at an old-fashioned appointment book. Had computers not made their way to the adoption agency?
“You are in luck,” the woman said. “We have an opening in the morning on Monday. Nine o’clock sharp. We do not tolerate tardiness.”
Melanie’s eyes practically bulged out of their sockets. She couldn’t believe the way the woman spoke to her. She wasn’t a two-year-old. She wanted to tell her that, but bit her tongue. Now wasn’t the time to be a smart aleck. Briefly, she had the passing thought—if she was so punctual, why didn’t she answer the phone at eight o’clock sharp?
Making Spirits Bright Page 2
