While She Was Sleeping...

by Isabel Sharpe

  Then Sledge stepping through the door, the sound of it closing behind him. Melanie turned, arms crossed across her chest. “I know what you’re thinking.”

  “Really?”

  “You’re thinking, ‘How could I pass up someone like Sawyer for a creep like Sledge?’”

  “That’s pretty much it.”

  “I know.” She fell onto a stool opposite Alana and scrubbed at her hair in frustration. “I really wanted to fall in love with Sawyer. But he’s just so, I don’t know…Boring.”

  Alana was so flabbergasted, she couldn’t even speak.

  “He’s so vanilla. I like spice, I like danger, I like—”

  “Idiots.”

  “I know.” Melanie slumped mournfully onto the counter. “But I don’t know how to stop. I tried to want Sawyer, I really did. It’s just not in me.”

  “Sledge was, though, apparently.”

  “Ha, ha. And speaking of into, if you ask me, Sawyer is way into you. So what hope did I have anyway?”

  Alana shrugged. Even her hair was blushing.

  Melanie looked at her curiously. “A bottle and a half of wine missing. You have fun last night?”

  Now even her eyeballs were blushing.

  Melanie grinned unexpectedly. “Honey, if you weren’t going to Florida, I’d say you and Sawyer were perfect for each other.”

  Alana tried to breathe calming breaths through a massive adrenaline rush. “Because I’m boring, too?”

  “You know what I mean. He’s a great guy. And even though I want to kill you most of the time, you’re a great person, too.” She groaned and bonked her head down again on the counter. “Me, I give up. I’m doomed to have a miserable, horrible love life.”

  “With Sledge?”

  Melanie laughed bitterly. “He won’t call again. I know his type.”

  Alana said nothing. She did, too, thanks to her sister.

  “So.” Melanie turned to send her a sly look. “Did anything go on last night?”

  “Not…really.”

  “But something did?” Melanie actually looked hopeful.

  “Sort of. I wasn’t really going to do anything until I knew for sure whether the two of you were together, but he said you were out with—”

  “It’s okay, Alana.” She hauled herself upright, reached for Alana’s arm and squeezed. “Don’t worry, seriously. It was pretty obvious nothing was going to happen between us. All I could do was force myself to flirt and he obviously wasn’t responding at all, so the whole thing was kind of torturous.”

  Alana let out her relief on a long breath. “Okay.”

  “Hmm.” Melanie got a distinctly calculating gleam in her eye. “So now that’s all out on the table…”

  “Ye-e-s?”

  Melanie’s grin turned wicked. “There’s absolutely nothing stopping you from going for it before you leave.”

  Which pretty much summed up Alana’s take on the situation, too.

  Her sister was right, and it scared her to death.

  10

  “COME ON, Edgar.”

  “You are not getting me onto one of those things.”

  “Edgar.” Melanie grabbed his elbow to stop him from walk ing away. They were standing in Juneau Park, on Lake Michigan, by the Juneau Park Paddleboat Company. Out on the calm waters of the tree-lined lagoon, bobbing next to the narrow wooden pier, were hydro-bikes, available to be rented, ten dollars for half an hour. Who could resist?

  Apparently Edgar.

  “C’mon, we have enough time before we have to go back to work.”

  “You told me you wanted to go by the lake for lunch today. Not on it.”

  “I know, but this would be much more fun. We can rent one of the tandem ones and do it together.” They were both wearing shorts, thanks to the new casual clothes policy for summertime that their boss Mr. Maniscotto actually unbent far enough to allow. To Melanie’s surprise, Edgar looked really good in his shorts; it was first time she’d seen him wearing them. She’d assumed he’d have pale stick legs, but that was, ahem, not the case at all. He looked solidly in shape. And now that she was looking, his shoulders were broader than she had noticed before, and were those pectoral muscles pushing against the material of his T-shirt? “Do you work out, Edgar?”

  He glared at her. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

  “Darn it.” She laughed, more startled than amused. Never occurred to her to flatter him. She just wanted to know, because if you ignored his helmet hair and the fact that his shorts were rust-red brown and his shirt blue-and-orange-striped, he actually looked hot. Melanie would make sure to parade him by Jenny when they got back to the office in case she ever managed to ditch her horrible boyfriend and Edgar broke up with Emma. “Then do it for me.”

  “You won’t stop whining until I give in, will you?”

  “Nope.” She smiled cheerfully and pulled him to the rental counter. “Give in to your fate.”

  He sighed heavily. “I’m doomed.”

  “Look at it this way. If it’s wonderful, you can bring Emma and she’ll think you’re the greatest for suggesting something so fun. If it’s horrible, you won’t have risked pissing her off. I can be your test case.”

  “That is such girl logic.”

  “Hey, I’m a girl.” She requested a tandem bike from the friendly man behind the counter and dug out her wallet.

  Edgar nudged her with his shoulder. “I’ll pay.”

  “No way. I’m forcing you. I’ll do it.” She whipped out her ten dollars before he got his and surrendered her driver’s license for collateral, then handed Edgar his bright orange life vest, which he put on scowling good-naturedly.

  The hydro-bikes were bicycle frames mounted on bright yellow pontoons with regular handlebars and metal mesh baskets in front. The pedals drove an underwater propeller. Melanie climbed on carefully and settled into her seat while Edgar followed. The entire contraption was surprisingly stable, and after a minute of pedaling, which took more effort than she expected, even Edgar began looking relaxed. They needed a few minutes to figure out how to keep their pedaling speed and direction coordinated, but once they did that, they could glide over the water, enjoy the beautiful leafy willows lining the lagoon and the clean, sharp skyline of Milwaukee beyond.

  “I saw Sledge yesterday.” Edgar threw that line out and lapsed into silence.

  Dread started churning in Melanie’s stomach, harder than the water churning from their pedaling. She didn’t know what she had to feel so guilty about, but Alana’s outrage and now the thought of Edgar’s disapproval made her want to leap off the hydro-bike and swim to Michigan.

  No, that wasn’t fair. She felt the guilt herself, too. Here she’d said she was starting over, finished with the wrong kind of guys. She’d focused on Sawyer as the perfect example of a man who would treat her well. But everything about him felt warm and sweet and brotherly, while one glance at Sledge turned everything hot and salty and lover-like.

  And yet. When Sledge left her kitchen yesterday morning, she felt only emptiness, sadness and relief. Emptiness because she’d betrayed herself; sadness because she knew she had no real chance at happiness with him, that he wouldn’t appear again except possibly for more sex—which she didn’t think was all that great, frankly; and relief because with him gone, she could try again to make her life better. Going off a diet once didn’t mean throwing in the towel and giving yourself license to pig.

  “So, um, what did Sledge have to say?”

  “More than he should have.” Edgar’s words came out short and choppy, not like himself at all.

  “Are you angry at me?”

  “Of course not.” He stopped pedaling and turned toward her, his deep blue eyes warm with concern. “Why would I be angry at you?”

  Melanie shrugged and ducked her head. “Everyone else is.”

  “Everyone else being…Alana? Not Sawyer…”

  “No, not Sawyer. But yes, Alana. And me.” She stopped pedaling, too, since with only he
r working they’d started going in a circle. “I know what he is, I know he’s bad for me. I did it anyway, and I don’t even know why. It’s like an addiction.”

  “No, Melly, I don’t think that’s it.” His voice was so tender she was afraid to look at him.

  Afraid? Of Edgar? She made herself turn. “So what is it? I inherited my mother’s insanity?”

  “Nah. I’d guess you’ve got some low self-esteem issues, feeling for whatever reason that you’re not worthy of being treated well.”

  Melanie’s chest tightened; she fought to keep her voice light. “Maybe.”

  “Or fear of commitment. Choosing men you know you won’t hang around because deep down you’re afraid one will.”

  “Oh.” Her best cheerful voice wavered. His gentle words were scaring her to death. It was safer to think of herself as a screwup or of all men as jerks than to examine why her relationships invariably failed. Being this scared of mere words could mean Edgar had hit on a painful truth.

  “Maybe next time really get to know the guy before you let him in the bedroom.”

  She shrugged, she hoped carelessly. “I was trying to do that with Sawyer.”

  “Sawyer isn’t the right man for you.”

  “I guess not.” She shaded her eyes against the sun. “Because apparently he’s in love with my sister.”

  Edgar whistled softly. “Ouch. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” She shook back her hair, wishing the strange weight in her chest would go away. “Since I haven’t been able to make myself want him, she might as well.”

  “You think she does?”

  “Yeah.” She pictured Sawyer’s handsome face and found she was relieved not to have to match herself up with him anymore. Because he wasn’t right? Or because she’d escaped a relationship that might actually work? Why did matters of the heart have to be so damn complicated? “In fact, I think something went on last night between them, which is so unlike Alana. To be all happy about matching him up with me, and then to go for him herself? That’s more like something I would do.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short. He might be good for her.”

  “I think he could be.” Melanie started pedaling again and said a sad, fond goodbye in her heart to the fantasy of Sawyer. “You should’ve met her last boyfriend. I couldn’t stand him. He didn’t speak, he droned. And fussy, down to every last little detail. I never sensed any passion between them, or any sense of fun. He was like another of her duties. I have no idea why she stayed with him so long.”

  “Relationships can become habits.”

  She wanted to ask him if his with Emma had become that way, but didn’t dare.

  “She left him right after he proposed, giant relief.” They glided farther on the calm water, Melanie turning over thoughts about the mystery of Alana and Sam until it hit her. “Oh my God, maybe she has a fear of commitment, too!”

  “Maybe she does.”

  “Oh, that would be so much fun.” She was so excited she nearly steered them into a passing pedal boat. “All this time I thought I was the only dysfunctional one.”

  “Melanie, you’re not dysfunctional, you are human. You didn’t have the healthiest upbringing or role model for relationships your first eight years. Give yourself a break.”

  “Thanks, Eddie.” The warmth that went through Melanie’s body wasn’t only from the sun. Once again Edgar made her feel better about herself, sometimes more than she thought she deserved. She hoped she made him feel that way, too. Seemed like she was always the one needing him.

  “Edgar, I really didn’t mean to get you out here so I could dump on you.”

  “Fuhgettaboutit, Melly. I was the one who brought up Sludge.”

  “Sludge!” She giggled so hard her feet slipped off the pedals and it took her two tries to find them again. “That’s perfect. Now tell me something about you so I don’t feel like I’ve bored you to death.”

  “You haven’t. And there’s not much to tell. My brother is coming to visit.”

  She stared in astonishment. “You have a brother? How could I not know this?”

  He shrugged. “I probably never mentioned him.”

  “You’re not close?”

  “Nah. He’s nothing like me.”

  “What is he like?” She couldn’t believe there was this whole aspect of Edgar’s life she knew nothing about. What else was there about him she didn’t know? Had she spent so much time focused on herself she never bothered to find out?

  Ouch. The leaf she needed to turn over kept getting bigger.

  “Let’s see. Rock musician, heavy drinker, no college, no plans to settle, no financial sense, no discrimination where it comes to women. Shall I go on?”

  “He sounds a mess.” She tried not to think how he sounded exactly her type. No, her old type. “Why is he coming to visit? Where does he live?”

  “Brooklyn. He’s here for a gig at Shank Hall with his band, Imploding Bovines.”

  “Imploding…Never mind.” She blew her bangs out of her eyes, getting winded, and embarrassed to admit it with Edgar next to her not even breathing hard. “What’s his name?”

  “Born Frank, now goes by Stoner.” Edgar reached to turn her handlebars; the hydro-bike veered to face the sparkling expanse of the lake beyond their lagoon. “Look at that. Perfect day.”

  “It is.” She allowed the abrupt change of subject, understanding that if he hadn’t mentioned Stoner in the two years she’d known him, Edgar had a good reason for avoiding the subject of his brother. She wasn’t often anxious to dish about Mom, either.

  “I’m glad you made me do this, Mel. It’s fun being out here with you.”

  “It’s fun being anywhere with you, Eddie. You always make me feel so good.” She stole a glance and found him staring out into the lake toward the invisible Michigan border. His plain face had never looked sweeter or more dear to her. “I know I’ve said this before, but I hope Emma knows how lucky she is.”

  “I’m lucky to have her, too.” He met her eyes. His were so blue and sincere, hair blown away from his forehead, skin clear bronze, chin strong; he looked nearly handsome. “But I’m also really lucky to have you.”

  Melanie froze, half in delight, half in unexplainable fear. “Me?”

  “Emma is the greatest, but she can’t give me everything. Her needs are…simple, and mine are more complicated. It’s really good to have you in my life, as well.”

  Melanie blinked away sudden tears and tried to smile. The sun was shining, breezes came softly off the lake. Her best buddy was paying tribute to their strong friendship. She had nothing to be crying over.

  “If you leave yourself open, if you let yourself look with other than your eyes and your hormones, you will find someone worthy of you.” His voice was low and sensual, very un-Edgar-like. “He may be closer than you think.”

  For one very odd moment, Melanie had the impression that he was talking about himself. A certain look in his eyes, was it a trick of the sun? Edgar couldn’t possibly…Emma was everything to him. But Melanie would swear he was hinting…

  Oh, this was unbelievably awkward.

  Edgar? She loved him but she could never. He was so…

  He was so sweet and thoughtful, and supportive and caring and intelligent and funny and trustworthy, therefore someone she would never fall for in a million years, even if he was available.

  It just freaking figured.

  “Thank you, Edgar. I so appreciate your faith in me.” She wanted to roll her eyes. I so appreciate your faith in me? Already he was pulling back, the light fading from his eyes.

  “Should we go back?”

  She nodded into the tension, trying to pretend everything was still normal between them, that she’d imagined what he was trying to say, that her reliable instinct had misfired big-time. She couldn’t let anything hurt their friendship. She depended on him for so many things—laughter, great companionship, a sense of fun…

  All the things she always said she wanted i
n a man. Sitting right there beside her in yet another surprise package she had no interest in opening.

  11

  ALANA WOKE UP with a sinking feeling that something was wrong. She stared at the ceiling, at the window. Beautiful sunny day again; what was the problem? Sawyer? Melanie? What was today? Tuesday. Hurricane day. She wished she’d gone with her instincts and traveled down to Florida. It was horrible being here unable to help, knowing Gran and Grandad were in danger and probably afraid. Hurricane Cynthia had made a slow, steady track directly for Orlando, in the center of the state, then suddenly veered north, staying a Category Two. But when Alana had spoken to Gran and Grandad the previous evening, it had already started raining, winds were up, there were reports of an extended storm surge at the coast, and it was still hours until the official landfall.

  There was nothing worse than having to worry about loved ones in a situation she couldn’t control. How often had she and Melanie lain in Alana’s twin bed in their two-bedroom apartment in West Allis, wondering where their mother was, when she’d be coming back. Whether she was getting herself in trouble, drinking too much, being taken advantage of by some jerk. Whether that jerk would come home with her and live with them for a while, whether he’d be nice to them or bring creepy friends around who ate, smoke or snorted various substances and were generally terrifying.

  A knock sounded at her door; Alana struggled up on her elbows. “Yes?”

  “Are you decent?” Sawyer’s deep voice.

  “Sort of.” Her blush was starting already, as was the adrenaline rush that leapt into action. He’d been gone a good part of yesterday—which gave Alana plenty of time to make minor repairs Melanie had neglected, and to clean more—but he’d come back to help haul stuff to Goodwill that Melanie had tossed into the basement rather than deal with. Alana had managed to avoid being in any intimate situations with him after dinner—and then was so tense and unsatisfied she’d had to take a sleeping pill in order to drop off.

  Sometimes she felt like a mental case.

  “Can I come in?”