Epilogue
T he late afternoon sun slanted through Diane’s kitchen windows as Helen watched her eldest daughter move effortlessly between stovetop and counter, stirring a pot of sauce while directing her children in setting the table. The familiar domestic scene made Helen’s heart swell, especially when she caught sight of Mel helping fifteen-year-old Michael arrange the silverware just so.
“Mom,” Diane called from the stove. “Can you taste this and tell me if it needs more basil?”
Helen moved to her daughter’s side, accepting the proffered spoon. The rich tomato sauce brought back memories of teaching Diane to cook so many years ago. “Perfect,” she said, squeezing Diane’s shoulder. “Though you haven’t needed my opinion on your cooking for a long time now.”
“I’ll always want your opinion,” Diane replied softly, then glanced toward Mel. “She seems to be fitting right in.”
Helen followed her daughter’s gaze. Mel had moved on to helping the twins, Emma and Jack, fold napkins into triangles. “She was nervous about tonight,” Helen said. “She wants so much for you all to like her.”
“Well, the twins already adore her,” Diane said, stirring the sauce. “And Sarah seems very intrigued by the fact that Mel is a retired police detective.”
As if summoned by her name, Sarah breezed into the kitchen, her long dark hair swinging. At eighteen, she carried herself with that particular young adult mix of confidence and uncertainty that Helen remembered well from raising her own daughters. “Mel’s teaching the twins how to make origami boats with the napkins,” she reported, reaching for a piece of garlic bread. “Dad’s trying to learn too, but he’s pretty hopeless.”
“Hey,” Tom protested from the dining room. “I heard that.”
The easy laughter that followed warmed Helen’s heart. This was what she’d hoped for—her family and Mel blending naturally, creating new connections and memories.
“So,” Sarah said, perching on a kitchen stool. “Tell us more about Hawaii. Did you really see whales?”
Helen exchanged a quick glance with Mel, who had appeared in the kitchen doorway. “We did,” Helen confirmed. “They were magnificent. Breaching right next to our boat.”
“And what about the mysterious neighbor?” Michael called from the dining room. “The one Aunt Jenny said you were investigating?”
Helen’s eyes met Mel’s. She was happy when the woman’s voice remained casual. “Oh, that was nothing really. Just a misunderstanding about a missing laptop.”
“But Aunt Jenny said—” Sarah started, but Diane smoothly interrupted.
“Dinner’s ready! Everyone wash up and find your seats.”
As the children scattered, Mel touched Helen’s elbow. “You okay?” she asked softly. Helen nodded, understanding the deeper question.
They had agreed to keep the truth about Abramson’s story and their involvement in its release between themselves. “Perfect,” she replied, reaching for Mel’s hand and squeezing it gently.
Around the dinner table, conversation flowed easily. Tom asked Mel about her years on the force, showing genuine interest in her experiences. The twins peppered Helen with questions about snorkeling, their eyes wide when she described the colorful fish. Even Sarah seemed engaged, though she kept returning to hints about their mysterious neighbor. “But why was he acting so weird?” she pressed, twirling pasta around her fork. “If it was just about a laptop?”
Helen took a sip of water, buying time. “Sometimes people get very focused on their work,” she said carefully.
“What kind of work was he doing?” Michael asked.
“He is a journalist,” Mel supplied, and Helen admired how steady her voice remained. “Sports mostly.”
“Cool,” Michael’s attention immediately shifted. “Did he know any famous players?”
The conversation drifted to safer topics, but Helen caught Diane watching her thoughtfully once or twice. Luckily, her daughter didn’t press for more details about their Hawaiian adventure. Later, as they gathered dishes for dessert, Diane cornered Helen in the kitchen. “You know,” she said quietly. “Whatever really happened in Hawaii, I’m glad you had Mel with you.”
Helen paused in slicing the apple pie. “What makes you think anything happened?”
Diane smiled, looking so much like her younger self that Helen’s heart ached. “Because I know you, Mom. And I’ve seen enough cop shows to know that ‘missing laptops’ don’t usually require this much careful explanation.”
Before Helen could respond, Mel appeared with a stack of dirty plates. “Need any help?”
“Perfect timing,” Diane said. “You can help Mom with the pie while I make coffee.”
As they worked side by side, Helen felt Mel’s familiar presence like a comfort. They moved in easy synchronization, gathering plates and forks, adding whipped cream to each slice. “Your family is wonderful,” Mel murmured. “Thank you for sharing them with me.”
Helen touched Mel’s arm, remembering their Hawaiian adventure, the trust they’d built, the secrets they kept together. “Thank you for being someone I want to share them with.”
The evening wound down with the twins fighting sleep on the couch, while Sarah had disappeared into her room, claiming homework called. Tom and Diane curled together in the loveseat, looking content. Helen sat back, taking in the scene, marveling at how naturally Mel fit into this tableau of family life. “Next time,” Diane said as they prepared to leave. “You’ll have to stay the weekend. The twins especially would love it.”
“We’d like that,” Helen replied, hugging her daughter close. Over Diane’s shoulder, she saw Mel accepting shy hugs from the twins, and her heart felt full to bursting.
In the car, heading home, Mel reached for Helen’s hand. “That went well,” she said softly.
“It did,” Helen agreed, thinking of Diane’s knowing look in the kitchen. “Though I think Diane suspects there’s more to our Hawaii story than we’re telling.”
“She’s observant,” Mel said. “Like her mother.”
* * *
Back at their house, Mel settled into her evening routine, checking the locks, setting out the coffee grinder and filling the kettle for the morning while Helen got ready for bed. The familiar motions felt grounding after the emotional evening with Helen’s family. As she scrolled through news headlines on her phone, a particular story caught her eye. “Helen,” she called toward the bedroom. “Come look at this.”
Helen appeared in her favorite silk nightgown. “What is it?”
“Anonymous Source Exposes Major League Sports Corruption,” Mel read aloud. “A shocking tell-all book released today details systematic game-fixing across multiple professional sports.” She looked up at Helen. “It’s Abramson’s story.”
Helen sat beside her on the couch, leaning in to read. “Mickey did it,” she said softly. “He really got it published.”
Mel scrolled through the article, noting how carefully the source’s identity was protected. “Listen to this: ‘The revelations have already prompted investigations by several state gaming commissions and calls for congressional hearings.’” She shook her head in amazement. “Abramson was right about how big this would be.”
“Do you think he’s seen it?” Helen asked. “Wherever he is?”
“Probably,” Mel replied, remembering their last conversation with him at the airport. “This is exactly what he wanted. The truth coming out while he stayed safe and anonymous.” She continued to scroll. “Mickey did good work making sure nothing could be traced back to us or Abramson.” She paused on a particular paragraph. “Though I have to admit, part of me wishes we could tell people we helped break this story.”
Helen chuckled. “Like your new fans? Sarah and Michael would be even more impressed with their almost-step-grandmother if they knew.”
The casual way Helen referenced their future together made Mel’s heart skip. She set down her phone, turning to face her partner. “You know, watching you with your family tonight... it made me realize how lucky I am.”
“Oh?” Helen’s eyes twinkled. “Do tell.”
“Not just because you love me,” Mel continued, taking Helen’s hand. “But because your family is opening up to me. New people to tell my old cop stories too and teach how to make origami boats.”
Helen squeezed her hand. “They’re your family now too, you know. Even if we must keep some of our adventures secret from them.”
Mel leaned in to kiss her softly, still amazed at how naturally they fit together. When they parted, she reached for her phone again, wanting to finish the article. But a different headline caught her attention. “That’s odd,” she murmured.
“What is?”
“Local story about a series of art gallery break-ins,” Mel said, frowning. “Nothing was stolen, but security cameras caught someone in black examining specific paintings very carefully.”
Helen sat up straighter. “Why is that odd?”
“Because it reminds me of a case I worked years ago,” Mel replied. “Someone was authenticating paintings before a major heist. Checking which ones were worth stealing.”
“Mel Nelson,” Helen said in that tone that meant she knew exactly where the line of thinking was going. “We just got back from one adventure. Are you already looking for another?”
Mel tried to look innocent. “I’m just reading the news.”
“Mmm hmm,” Helen hummed, but Mel saw the spark of interest in her eyes. “And I suppose you won’t be thinking about this at all tomorrow?”
“Well,” Mel said slowly, “there is that new gallery that opened downtown. The one you mentioned wanting to visit?”
Helen laughed, the sound warm and familiar. “You’re impossible,” she said fondly. “But I suppose we could stop by. Just to look at the art, of course.”
“Of course,” Mel agreed, setting her phone aside. “Though maybe I should call my old contact at the department first. Just to get some background on the break-ins.”
“Naturally,” Helen said, standing and pulling Mel up with her. “But that can wait until tomorrow. Right now, I think we both need sleep. It’s been a busy evening.”
As they got ready for bed, Mel couldn’t help but think about the art gallery case. But watching Helen move around their bedroom, so naturally part of her life now, she knew her priorities had shifted. Whatever mysteries lay ahead, they would face them together, on their own terms. “I can hear you thinking,” Helen said as they settled into bed.
“Just wondering what our next adventure will be,” Mel admitted, pulling Helen close.
“As long as it doesn’t involve large, black suitcases or masked attackers,” Helen murmured, already sounding sleepy.
Mel pressed a kiss to Helen’s temple, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo. “No promises,” she said softly. “But I’ll try to keep it to art galleries and maybe the occasional missing person.”
Helen’s quiet laugh was the last sound Mel heard before drifting off to sleep, her mind already spinning theories about the gallery break-ins. But that was tomorrow’s mystery. Tonight, she was content just to hold Helen and appreciate how their Hawaiian adventure had brought them even closer together. As she finally dozed off, Mel’s last thought was that maybe retirement wasn’t so bad after all, especially when she had someone to solve mysteries with.
***
If you enjoyed Helen and Mel’s story, read how they met and how the romance started in my book, In the Twilight Hours.
Helen Hardy is not ready to give up on adventure. Even though her two daughters think their sixty-five-year-old mother is too old to be driving her luxury travel van to remote campgrounds, Helen does what she wants. It’s not until she gets lost on the way to Needle Lake Campground that she has second thoughts. Or, at least, until a grumpy old woman comes to her rescue and helps her find her way. In more ways than one.
After thirty years on the police force, Mel Nelson is happy running the Needle Lake Campground like a well-oiled machine. With her trusty sidekick Sally, a Shih Tzu dog, she is perfectly content at seventy to relax every evening with a beer and a good book. But when a pretty woman wanders into her life, feelings Mel hasn't thought about in a long time come back. She just isn’t sure what she is going to do about them.
Together, the two women need to decide what happens next–friendship or something much more?
Check out In the Twilight Hours