Chapter 22
CHAPTER 22
L ater that day, Kyle managed to calm her down—but she wasn’t going to simply give up. They went to a law enforcement supply store on the east end of Main Street that she’d seen once or twice but hadn’t thought much about since. Although the guy at the counter had talked to Kyle instead of her, simply adding to the simmering in her gut, she’d wound up buying a knife, pepper spray, and some other small self-defense items. Then they’d gone to the hardware store and bought her a bolt lock for her door.
The only thing in her favor was that Tommy didn’t necessarily know where she lived—but if he did, she wanted to be able to protect herself. Again, Kyle offered to have her stay at his place and she considered it, but she still wasn’t sure if she was going to stay in Silver City.
What helped was when Detective Newcomb called her phone just before her shift that afternoon. “We’ve contacted the Pueblo PD and shared your info with them. They might be getting in touch with you—but they will be bringing him in for questioning.”
“Oh, God. Are they going to tell him what I said?”
“They might—but we’ll be patrolling your end of Main Street more heavily from now on. We’ll also be sending an officer into Tequilaville on occasion just to check up. And call us if Nogales shows. Silver City’s not that big. We can be there quickly.”
Although the guy was still a dick, he’d helped ease her fears some.
At work that night, she also talked to Al, Denise, and her other coworkers and asked them to keep an eye out for Tommy. When she showed them a picture she had on her phone, Denise said, “A guy like that with the neck tattoos and stuff will be easy to spot.”
Maybe she could stay a little while.
Over the next few days, Kyle spent every night at her apartment—and Tommy didn’t show up again. She was sure that either he was waiting for her to drop her guard or he might have been arrested again. Either way, she remained vigilant. She’d been watching YouTube videos centered around self-defense and was feeling more confident. And she’d actually managed to get some sleep over the past few days.
Before she knew it, it was Christmas. Although she could have said the holidays were when she missed her parents the most, it wasn’t true. Every day of the year held some special memory of them and their birthdays were the hardest—but the holidays were difficult, nonetheless.
Kyle helped. He was sweet and loving and he managed to distract her somewhat. It also didn’t hurt that she had become hyper-vigilant, trying to make sure she was as safe as possible.
Two mornings before Christmas, she awoke in Kyle’s arms. He kissed the top of her head as they lay there, reluctant to get out of her warm bed. The holidays had been weighing heavily on her mind. She asked, “Do you have to work on Christmas?”
“No. I’m scheduled for Christmas Eve, but we close early—and we’re only open for a few hours on Christmas Day, but I’m off. I have to work a double on New Year’s Day, though. What about you?”
“Al said we don’t get enough business to make it worth being open—and I guess there’s a bar on Tenth Street that makes a big deal about it. They have a bunch of fun stuff going on, so if anyone wants to drink, that’s the place to go.”
“I have to go to my family’s for Christmas. Would you want to come with me?”
Oh. That felt a little serious somehow…but also comforting. Melody couldn’t remember the last Christmas she’d had that she’d enjoyed. Although she’d spent time with Marin, her bestie, around the holidays, the last couple of years had been spent with Tommy and his friends and, before that, her mom had been battling cancer.
It had been a good long while since she’d celebrated—or even felt like it…and she’d really missed the sense of family. “Yeah, sure.”
“There’ll be either turkey or ham and mom always makes mashed potatoes.”
So on Christmas Day, she was actually excited. She’d bought a bottle of red wine from the bar, deferring to Denise’s expertise on which one was the best quality for the most affordable price. Because she really didn’t know much about his family, she hoped it would be an okay gift.
She and Kyle had agreed to not exchange gifts, mostly at her insistence. She didn’t want to collect a lot of things because she didn’t want to have to cram more into her suitcases if she had to leave. Her excuse to Kyle was that she was focused on minimalism—and, to let him know she appreciated what she already had, she unpacked the print he’d purchased for her at the art gallery on their first date and hung it on the wall again.
In November, she’d bought him a cool guitar night light, thinking ahead to Christmas, and she’d placed it in a gift bag under her bed. It was still there, something she hadn’t bothered packing, but she couldn’t give it to him now. If she was still here in January, she’d find an excuse to give it to him without the holiday attached to it—and without a need for reciprocation.
What made the day feel even lighter was that on Christmas Eve, she’d checked the Pueblo police’s Facebook page and found that Tommy had indeed been arrested. Although she didn’t know how long he would stay locked up, she knew he couldn’t bother her when he was behind bars.
For Christmas day, she wore a black skirt and tights to keep her legs warm, along with a red-and-green tartan blouse she’d found at the thrift store the week before. She’d anticipated wearing it for work, because Al let them dress up on special days like Halloween and Christmas Eve. She hadn’t known she wouldn’t have to work.
And it was a piece of clothing she wouldn’t mind leaving behind when it was time to go.
She fussed longer than usual over her hair and makeup, wanting to make a good impression on his family. When she emerged from the bathroom, Kyle was lying on the bed, looking as handsome as ever in dark blue jeans and a long-sleeved pullover navy blue shirt that highlighted his pecs. The color also made his eyes sparkle.
“You look amazing,” he said, standing up.
“So do you.”
After he pulled her in his arms and they kissed, he said, “How about we spend the night at my place tonight? We’ll already be in Charlotte anyway.”
“Yeah, sure. But give me a sec.” Although she wouldn’t need much, she didn’t want to go unprepared, so she put eyeliner and mascara in her purse and then put a change of underwear, a t-shirt and sweatpants, a toothbrush and toothpaste, and another t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers in one of her reusable grocery bags. She already knew she’d feel safer at Kyle’s, but she didn’t want to make it a habit.
Tonight, though, would be fine.
Maybe her stubbornness was working against her—but she pushed that thought out of her mind.
The drive to Charlotte was pleasant. Kyle drove east out of Silver City and then turned down a road that led to more rural areas where there were fields covered in a blanket of snow. The houses were spaced far apart, but they couldn’t go a quarter of a mile without passing one by. Soon, he turned on a two-lane curvy highway that butted up against short rocky bluffs. Just a few miles later, the houses got denser again and then, when the road curved again to the south, there was no denying they were entering a town. Lots of homes were decorated for the holiday and, as twilight descended, a good many of them already had their Christmas lights on.
It was absolutely breathtaking.
Although they passed an assisted living facility, everything else was just homes. Was Charlotte just a suburb of Silver City?
It wasn’t until the road curved again that she saw she’d been mistaken. They passed a small engine repair shop, and she couldn’t miss the school sign on the side of the road. There weren’t any school buildings that she could see, but she knew they had to be nearby. As Kyle’s car took them down another block, homes still lined the right side of the road, but on the left side was a doctor’s office. Then the road curved at a ninety-degree angle for two blocks—and it was like Charlotte was coming into view: a big school to the left, a convenience store on the right, followed by a small restaurant and a shopping market. On the left was a drug store and a carwash and the road turned at another ninety-degree angle.
The street ahead was lit up—and Melody realized they were finally on Charlotte’s Main Street, dispelling her earlier theory that the town was only a suburb. As Kyle drove slowly down the street, Melody appreciated all the Christmas lights hung on buildings and streetlights, but she couldn’t catch all the shops on both sides of the road. There was one traffic light ahead and that appeared to be the only one in this tiny town. Kyle slowed the car, though, and pointed to the right. She followed his hand as he said, “That’s The Apothecary where we play every Saturday night.”
“Oh, that’s the famed Apothecary.”
Kyle laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far,” he said, slowing as he approached the traffic light. “It’s really not much to look at inside, but the owner lets us practice there for free and, in exchange, we act as the house band.”
“That’s really cool,” she said, still appreciating how much Charlotte had done to celebrate the holiday.
“Yeah…but I think we’ve outgrown the place. None of us have said it out loud yet, but I’m pretty sure we’re all thinking it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. When we first started playing again, we packed the place. Lately, though, not so much.”
Although Al had said the holidays drew people to Tequilaville, she didn’t know if that would be true of all bars—and she wanted to offer some hope. “Maybe it’s just because of Christmas. Maybe people are busy wrapping presents and stuff so they don’t have time to go to a concert.”
“You might be right.” At the next block, he slowed the car and turned down a side street. “I guess we’ll find out next month.” He pulled the car in front of a house on the corner of the next block, parking right behind a compact car. A streetlight across the road illuminated the sidewalk as Melody stepped out. Before Kyle took her hand, he pulled out the bags they had brought and handed one to Melody. “I can carry all of them if you want.”
“Thanks. Just hold my hand.”
“Gladly.”
Soon, they were walking down the concrete path to the front porch. A bright light shone from just above the door. Letting go of her hand, Kyle rang the doorbell before opening the storm door, followed by the main door. He held it for Melody to walk through and, just as he closed it again, a young woman approached them through the living room.
“Cass,” Kyle said, grabbing her in his arms. “Merry Christmas.”
“You too.”
Melody tried to assess the younger woman’s age and guessed she was in her early twenties, not much younger than she and Kyle—and she knew from her name that she was Kyle’s sister. He confirmed it when he introduced her to Melody and then he said, “Cassie, this is… Scarlett , my girlfriend.”
“Nice to meet you. Please call me Melody .”
Cassie’s brown eyes along with her furrowed brow expressed her confusion. Kyle said, “Uh, long story. But yeah…Melody.”
“Okay, weirdo,” his sister said. “Dinner’s almost ready if you guys wanna take off your coats and stuff.”
When his sister left the room, Kyle hung up his leather jacket on a coat tree by the door. “I can get yours too.” Melody handed him her coat and purse, waiting patiently. She knew introductions like these always started out awkwardly but would feel much better after a little time talking. That was the part she wanted to get over with, because she wanted to get to know Kyle’s family. That had been the biggest thing missing in her life since the passing of her parents, and it was something she yearned for.
While Kyle placed a couple of wrapped gifts under the small tree in front of the living room window, Scarlett took in the space. Although the living room had a warm, inviting feel, it also felt a little crowded. The coffee and end tables were all filled with books, magazines, pictures, and other items. She couldn’t help but notice all the pictures of one young man who looked a little like Kyle, but with darker hair and haunted gray eyes. “Is that…your brother?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
“Yeah, that’s Liam.”
Kyle stood, holding out a hand. “Do you want me to put your gift under the tree?”
“No. I’d like to give it to them before we eat.”
Nodding, he stuck out his hand and led her through the house. The living room had two other doors—one that opened into what appeared to be a dark hallway and another that brought them into a brightly lit dining room. In the center was a wooden table with six matching chairs and atop the table were two white taper candles with flickering flames, surrounded by a napkin holder, salt and pepper shakers, and a butter dish. The walls were a muted baby blue with a couple of framed paintings of nature scenes—and lots of family photos.
Melody tried to concentrate on the savory smells coming from the kitchen and, as she did, her mouth started to water. Kyle continued guiding her through the room and they paused at the door to the left as Cassie appeared, holding stacked plates holding an array of silverware. Once she was through, they entered the kitchen.
Compared to the living and dining rooms, the kitchen was small. Everything one would need was there—stove, refrigerator, sink, and even a small table—but the space was tight. An older woman stood at the stove, stirring something in a pot. Kyle said, “Hey, mom.”
Turning, the woman gave them a muted, tired smile that barely reached her light brown eyes, her graying brown hair pulled up into a loose bun that left many stray hairs floating around her head. The woman appeared to be thin, with the apron merely masking just how small she was. But Melody didn’t know this woman; she might have always been on the thin side. “Kyle, good to see you. And you must be the girlfriend I’ve heard a little about.”
“Yeah, mom, this is Melody.”
With a big smile, Melody stuck out her hand and she couldn’t quite register the vibe she was picking up from Kyle’s mother. It had to be simply because she was nervous and not reading it right. “Nice to meet you,” she said, before taking the bottle of wine out of the bag.
“I’m Linda.”
“Linda, this is for you and Cassie. I wanted to wish you merry Christmas.”
“Oh, thank you.” His mother held the bottle in her hands, examining it as if she’d never seen something like it before. Then, placing it on the table, she said, “We can have it with dinner. Kyle, would you open it and put it in the dining room, please?”
“Uh, sure.”
“Can I help with anything?” Melody asked.
“We’re almost ready. I’m just making the gravy right now. You can help Cass finish setting the table. The glasses are up there,” she said, pointing to a cabinet with the wooden spoon in her hand, “and the wine glasses are in the hutch in the dining room.”
“Uh…should I get four glasses or are you expecting other company?”
“Just four.”
While Kyle was locating a corkscrew, Melody walked past him with glasses in hand. When she got to the dining room, Cassie was finishing putting the silverware next to the plates. “The fork goes on the left, right?”
Melody smiled, relieved that she actually knew the answer. “Yep.”
“It’s so weird. I mean, unless you’re left-handed, it doesn’t make sense to have it there.”
Melody started placing the glasses around the table. “My dad told me it’s to make things easier when you have to cut them—like steak or chicken breast or something. You have a knife in your right hand while holding the meat steady with the fork in your left.”
“I guess that just goes to show how much meat I eat.”
Melody smiled, nodding her head. “Yeah, I get that. Uh…I brought a bottle of wine for you guys and your mom said we would drink it with dinner. She said you have wine glasses in here.”
“Oh, yeah. Cool. Thanks!” Cassie opened the hutch behind one side of the table and took out four wine glasses, setting them on the table. Melody took them and placed them next to the drinking glasses at each place setting. “I think it’s all set—so here’s hoping it’s time to eat. I’m starving.”
So far, so good.
When Kyle entered the dining room with the bottle of wine, he set it on the table. “Mom said this kind of wine tastes better if you don’t put it in the fridge.”
Melody didn’t serve a lot of wine at the bar, but they had a cooler where most of the wine was stored. Denise had told her it didn’t get super cold but brought the wine slightly below room temperature; they did have some wines that were refrigerated, and Melody simply tried to remember where to find particular wines when they were requested—and, if she didn’t find it in one place, she knew it’d be in another. Thanks to enough customers ordering, she remembered that the merlot and zinfandel were in the cooler and not the fridge, and at least she didn’t have to recall the temperature they should be.
Kyle said, “Where’s Tiger?”
Cassie’s mocha eyes communicated it all. “We had to put him to sleep.”
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry. What happened?”
“He…had some kind of tumor on his brain. He kept having seizures, so…”
Kyle frowned. “When did that happen?”
“In March.” Cassie began moving toward the kitchen. “I’m gonna see what else mom needs.”
Kyle didn’t waste any time pulling Melody in an embrace. She said, “That’s so sad.”
“Yeah, but he was pretty old. I think he was, like, sixteen or something.”
“Still…”
“Yeah, Cass had that cat since she was little. I feel like an asshole.”
Melody touched his cheek. “Don’t.”
“Are you still feeling nervous?”
She smiled into his handsome face. “No.” Awkward, maybe, but she knew that would fade with more time.
When Kyle’s mother and sister came into the dining room, Cassie set a carafe of ice water on the table while Linda placed a pitcher of what appeared to be iced tea. Then his mother said, “All right. Let’s pray.”
Nodding, Kyle took Melody’s hand into his right and his mother’s hand in his left; his mother held hands with him and Cassie; meanwhile, Cassie extended her left to take Melody’s right. It had taken Melody a moment to understand what they were doing: all of them were holding hands in a circle around the table. It was a lovely gesture, reminding Melody that all families had their own traditions.
Linda said, “Kyle, would you like to say the prayer?”
When Melody looked at him, his face seemed to have paled a bit. “Um…can I pass?”
There was no mistaking the stern expression that passed over his mother’s face. Clearly, she did not like his answer—but she said, “All right. I’ll do it.” Then she bowed her head, followed by Cassie and Kyle doing the same. Melody quickly bowed her head as well, but she kept her eyes open as Linda began praying. “Heavenly father, thank you for this year’s bountiful harvest and thank you for bringing us together safe and sound. We all still feel the huge gap left by Liam’s absence, but please hold him in your loving arms until the day we can see him again. In Jesus’s name, amen.”
When Melody heard both Cassie and Kyle quietly say amen after their mother, she also said it. As they both let go of her hands, she raised her head, trying not to let her face show how she felt inside—because she knew that sometimes compassion could be mistaken for pity, and she had a feeling Kyle’s mother wouldn’t appreciate the latter. Still, it was quite evident that she was still in mourning for the loss of her oldest son. Melody imagined it was something she might never be able to fully recover from.
And that had to make both Kyle and Cassie feel guilty—and maybe as if they didn’t matter as much. Kyle hadn’t said a lot about his relationship, but Melody knew there was still something of a rift between him and his mother. Reminders like her prayer probably didn’t help.
“Let’s eat,” Linda said, leading the way back into the kitchen, holding her plate.
Melody grabbed Kyle’s hand again and squeezed, hoping he could feel what she was trying to communicate. Smiling, he said quietly, “I’m glad you’re here.” As she nodded, he said, “Don’t forget your plate.”
When they entered the kitchen, Linda said, “If either of you need to wash your hands, you can do it here at the sink or in the bathroom.” Melody took it as a hint and washed her hands quickly. Kyle followed suit. But when it came to the food, Melody planned to follow his lead. There were pots and dishes full of food on the table—but, until she watched and did what he did, she wouldn’t have known the stove also held food, a fairly informal buffet.
When they came back to the dining room, Melody had a bounty of food, just like his mother had prayed for: a little turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, stuffing, corn, a roll, and a beautiful green salad with pomegranate seeds that Cassie had proudly told her she’d made. There had been a couple of Jell-O salads and a green bean casserole that she’d passed over, partly because she didn’t have room on her plate.
It wasn’t until they were all seated that Melody realized she could hear Christmas music coming from the living room. Kyle grabbed the carafe of water. “Do you want some?”
“Sure.” While he filled up both his and her glasses, she grabbed a couple of napkins from the holder and set one next to Kyle’s plate.
Linda said, “Cass, not Elvis. Please put in something else. Anything else.”
Cassie got up, scurrying to the living room, and Melody tried to tell herself that it wasn’t tension that she felt. It had to be that she still felt nervous. Soon, Elvis’s voice crooning “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” stopped, replaced by a woman’s voice singing “Silent Night.”
When Cassie returned, Kyle said, “Why’d you have to put in Mariah friggin’ Carey?”
“I like it.”
“You know I hate that album.”
“Don’t start,” Linda warned, looking directly at Kyle.
Melody was beginning to feel like maybe she didn’t want to eat, but she tried to remind herself that not all families had been like hers. She took a bite of the mashed potatoes and said, “The food is so good. Thank you again for having me.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”
Cassie said, “Have you tried the salad yet?”
“No. I will.” And, as promised, she did while Kyle poured wine into everyone’s glasses. Melody said, “It’s delicious. Thank you, Cassie.”
“Yeah, it’s good,” Kyle said. “I was surpris—” He stopped himself and reiterated, “It’s good.”
“I know what you were gonna say, a-hole.”
“Watch it, Cassandra,” Linda said. “Please just eat.”
Everyone grew silent and Melody’s body and even her internal organs seemed to tense up in response. The only sounds for several minutes were the scraping of utensils on plates and the music.
By the time the song changed, Kyle asked, “How’s school going, Cass?”
“It’s not. I’m on break till the middle of January.”
“Yeah, I know, but how’d you do?”
“I did okay. My grades were so-so and a couple of classes were boring, but I did make it into the nursing program.”
Kyle said, “I thought you were already in it.”
“No. I hoped so, but you never know until you actually apply for admission.”
“Well, good job.”
Linda said, “Don’t be sarcastic, Kyle.”
“I’m not . I was being serious.”
Linda shot him a look and didn’t appear to buy it, but she didn’t say anything else. Cassie, for her part, seemed unfazed. She said, “What do you do, Melody?”
“Oh, uh…you mean for work?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m a bartender at Tequilaville. That’s how Kyle and I met.”
Linda said, “I thought we talked about this, Kyle. Frequenting bars enough to get to know the bartender and ask her out for a date isn’t the best idea.”
Melody wanted to crawl under the table. Something had their mother in a bad mood and it seemed that they couldn’t say anything without setting her off. What had seemed perfectly innocent had triggered her.
There was no mistaking the simmering anger in Kyle’s voice. “The band plays there, mom. We entertain people. I’m not there to get drunk.” As if to emphasize his words, he held out a hand to his still-full wine glass.
“And when are you going to give that up? You’re not going to make a living playing music in a bar.”
“We actually are making money. Not when we play at The Apothecary, but Tequilaville’s paying—and we’re probably gonna be touring with another band next spring to bigger places where we’ll earn even more money. Everybody’s gotta start somewhere.”
“Hmm.” Linda’s brow softened slightly but she didn’t say anything else.
Kyle, however, was stirred up. “And I don’t know why you give a shit anyway. When I’m not earning money with the band, I’m working full-time at Burger King. I’m a shift lead, so I’m making better than minimum.”
“Watch your language.”
“But you couldn’t care less about anything I accomplish, because I’m not your sweet baby Cassie or your precious Liam.”
A hush descended over the room, and Melody knew that if Mariah Carey could have, she would have stopped singing as well. For her part, Melody wished she could hide under the table, because the atmosphere had gone from awkward to way fucking uncomfortable in short order.
Cassie’s face expressed hurt at her brother’s words but she didn’t say anything. Linda placed her napkin on the table and stood. “What did you say?”
Kyle also stood, reassuring Melody that she could, in fact, feel even more tense. “You heard me.”
“First off, I want you to apologize to your brother and sister.” Kyle’s jaw set in defiance of his mother while she continued talking. “I don’t care if you apologize to me, but you hurt your sister’s feelings and you’re speaking ill of the dead.”
“I didn’t say anything to hurt them, mom. I was talking about you —about how you treat them like you love them more than anything else in the world, and it’s pretty damn clear you don’t care about me at all. You will never be able to forgive me for what happened to Liam.”
“That’s not true, son, and you know it.”
“Then what’s the deal?”
Linda let out a long breath and walked over to the other side of the table where her son stood. “Yes, it’s been hard and I did blame you for a long time. Not just you. I blamed Liam too. I was angry at you both…and with him gone, there’s a big piece of my heart that died and it will never grow back.” She swallowed, and Melody tried not to watch—but it was difficult considering she was right there . “But you and Cassie are also part of my heart. Son…I know you didn’t kill him. I know he chose to do what he did and there’s nothing I can do now that will change it. But I’ll never be the same.”
“Liam wouldn’t have wanted that.”
“Well, Liam’s not here to do a thing about it.” Linda took Kyle’s face in her hand, and she looked in his eyes. Although Melody felt like she was a peeping Tom, it wasn’t like she could leave without making a scene. Meanwhile, Mariah Carey’s voice continued wafting into the space, discordant with what was happening. “I’m hard on you, son, because I don’t want to lose you too. I wasn’t involved enough to know what was going on with Liam, and you don’t let me in, son—so I assume the worst. And if I have to lose you too, then I’m going to try to wear some armor so it doesn’t rip another chunk of my heart out—‘cause I don’t think I can take it.”
She began sobbing and Kyle pulled her close. When he said, “I love you, mom,” Melody could hear the tears in his voice as well—and then Cassie got up and joined their embrace.
Melody had never felt so out of place in her life.
She was relieved for Kyle’s sake, though, because it seemed like he was patching things up with his family. Or was he? She had no real way of knowing, considering this was the first time she’d visited. For all she knew, this was a regular song and dance.
It reminded her of the only time she’d met Tommy’s mother—it was at a Fourth of July party, and not only did she and her kids argue, they got physical with each other, punching and grabbing and threatening to bite. This evening had been too similar to that.
How could she have been so blind? Kyle might not have looked like Tommy and Linda didn’t look like Tommy’s mother, but Melody had the feeling they were the same flavor of dysfunction as the Nogales family.
Clearly, Melody couldn’t trust her own judgment. It was flawed and it had been ever since she’d lost her dad and then her mother.
When Kyle and his family loosened their embrace, clearly having experienced some sort of cathartic moment, they all apologized to Melody for the outburst. Although she smiled and put on a happy, empathetic face, she was starting to question everything.
Merry freaking Christmas.