CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE - MELODY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
MELODY
Melody was waiting impatiently. What was taking Liz so long? Melody had hung a half dozen dresses inside the tiny dressing room of Hidden Treasures for Liz to try on. Surely one of them fit.
“Liz?” Melody listened as movement rustled behind the closed door. “Liz, are you okay?”
Finally, the door opened and Liz appeared wearing the same clothes she’d stepped into the room wearing.
“You didn’t try on any of the dresses?” Melody asked.
“I did. I tried all of them on. None of them felt right.” Liz blew out a breath.
“Well, that’s okay. I’ll find more. There are dozens more dresses here and if they don’t work, then we’ll go shopping somewhere else.” She forced a smile, trying to convince Liz. She really didn’t want to give Liz any reason to second-guess her decision to chaperone prom with Matt. This was a huge deal—for all of them. “Want to keep looking?”
Liz lowered her head. “No. I think I’m done for tonight. Maybe this weekend. I was considering going to take photographs of Sunset Park at sunset.”
“Oh? Are you riding your bike over there?” Melody asked. Sunset Park was several miles away.
Liz rolled her lips together. “No. I’m driving.” She scanned the store and Melody had the distinct impression that her friend was holding something back.
“I’m not sure you’re ready to drive solo just yet.”
“That’s true.” Liz slid her gaze to Melody. “Matt is riding shotgun.”
Melody felt her eyebrows lift. She pulled her hands together at her chest, pressing her fingertips together. “A date?”
“No.” Liz shook her head quickly. “Not a date. It’s just . . . we’re just friends. He wants to help me practice my driving, and I want to take photographs of the sunset. For my business.”
Melody noted the slight blush rising on Liz’s cheeks. “Well, I think that’s wonderful. I want one of the prints after you take them. I’ll hang it on my office wall.”
“Your office wall?” Liz asked.
Melody nodded. “In Charlotte.”
“Right.” Liz looked away again.
Guilt layered in Melody’s gut. She had a right to have a life outside of Trove Isle, didn’t she? A career? “Maybe I need two prints so I can keep one here in my room at my dad’s too. Since I’ll be coming home so often now.”
Liz’s smile was wobbly. “Anyway, I need to go. Matt is meeting me at my house.”
“Have fun. I’ll keep an eye out for the perfect dress for you. It’ll show up, I promise,” Melody called to Liz’s back. She watched Liz leave and then she continued to stand there for a long moment trying to decide what to do with herself. As she pondered, a tall, dark, and handsome man appeared on the other side of Hidden Treasure’s door.
Everything inside of Melody lit up. Her reaction to seeing Christopher took her off guard a bit. She’d known she had a growing attraction to him, but she hadn’t realized just how much it had grown in the last few days.
He opened the door and stepped in, his eyes trained on her. “I was in the area so . . .”
Melody grinned. “Oh? What were you on Seagull Street for? Bites from The Bitery or books from The Book Whore?”
Christopher rolled his eyes playfully. “I can’t believe Danette gave her store that name. But no, I get my books from the library. I can’t bring myself to shop at a place called The Book Whore.”
Melody mocked a pout. “But it’s Danette. And supporting small-town businesses is crucial to keeping their doors open.”
Christopher stepped closer. “I didn’t realize you were so passionate about small-town things. Now that you’re a city girl and all.”
Melody enjoyed the flirty banter between them as he came closer. She leaned against a circular rack next to her, ready to spout off something witty—hopefully—when the rack rolled under the weight of her arm. Instead of coming off witty and charming, she fell toward the ground clumsily.
“Whoa!” Christopher reached for her arm, but she was too far gone on her trip toward the floor. Instead of catching her, she pulled him down along with her. It wasn’t at all like one of those romantic scenes in a rom-com featuring Sandra Bullock or Kate Hudson. No, this was less romantic and more awkward.
“Ow,” Melody moaned, trying to pull her arm from under Christopher’s weight.
“Are you okay?” he asked, lifting himself off her. He stopped though when he realized her charm bracelet was snagged on his necklace. She’d never realized he wore a gold chain. He must keep it tucked in his shirt.
“Oh, sorry,” she said. “Let me see if I can—”
Christopher hovered over her as she tried to disconnect their jewelry.
“This bracelet has a mind of its own. This is the second time it’s done this to me.” Melody’s hands were shaking too much to free the jewelry.
Christopher grinned at her. “You’re talking about it as if it’s a living, breathing thing.”
Melody noticed the charm on Christopher’s necklace. “What is that?”
He looked down at his chain. “It was my dad’s. He wore this every day. When he died, I assumed he’d be buried in it, but my mom gave it to me after the funeral. Dad told her he wanted me to have it. I kind of feel like he’s with me somehow, when I’m wearing it.”
Melody’s eyes were suddenly burning. “That’s beautiful.”
He looked at her for a breathless moment. “You’re beautiful.”
Her first impulse was to pull away, but she was kind of stuck to him right now. “Um . . .”
“Sorry.” He shook his head and then attempted to disconnect the charm bracelet and his chain himself. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, it’s okay. Thank you. That’s nice to hear. You don’t have to apologize.”
Christopher looked at her again, his gaze roaming from her eyes to her lips. Then the jewelry seemed to release on its own. He rolled onto the floor and sat beside her, running a hand through his dark hair. “Well, that was interesting.”
Melody laughed nervously. “And I’m going to have a bruised butt tomorrow.”
He side-eyed her and cleared his throat. “I probably shouldn’t be thinking about your butt.”
Melody burst out laughing. “Sorry.”
“I, uh, know I wasn’t your favorite person when you arrived in Trove this summer, but I’m glad we’re getting closer,” he said earnestly.
“Me too.” She picked herself off the floor and offered a hand down to help him up.
He looked skeptical. “You’re not scared I’m going to try to get payback and pull you down like you just did to me?”
She laughed some more. “I guess I would deserve it.”
He placed his hand in hers and she used her body weight to pull him upward. She wasn’t fooled. He stood on his own. And when he did, he was standing closer than she’d expected. Her heart thumped in her chest. Falling for him was an epically bad idea. She wasn’t staying, and she’d hurt enough people in Trove Isle already. She was making amends with the people here. Getting involved with Christopher opened the door to potential hurt feelings and heartbreak. Remaining just friends was best.
“Is your, uh, butt okay?” he asked.
Melody grimaced. “I thought we agreed you shouldn’t be thinking about my, um . . . backside.”
“You started it.” His voice dipped low as he leaned in.
“Yes, it’s fine.” She shrugged. “I mean, I guess ice cream would make it better.”
Christopher grinned. “Then, by all means, I should take you to get some. The only question now is one scoop or two?”
“After that fall, I definitely deserve two,” she said, not completely talking about the fall on her store floor. It was her heart that was taking the biggest fall this evening.
* * *
The next day, Melody opened the thrift store and headed back to the counter to sit and work on an event that Julie had emailed her about overnight. It was easy enough to work the counter while jotting down ideas.
The event was for a client’s debut book release. Melody had never planned a book release before, but she was excited. She had all kinds of thoughts about a cake that looked like the book itself, a photo booth to insert people’s faces into the book’s cover, a karaoke sing-along to the author’s playlist inspired by the book. The ideas were coming to mind faster than Melody could jot them in her little notebook.
A bell jingled as the door to the store opened and a customer stepped inside.
Melody looked up and smiled at Mr. Lyme. She expected him to head in her direction, but instead he walked over to the far side of the room where there was a bookshelf. He stopped and looked over the selection for a long moment and then continued perusing the store like any other customer.
Melody thought he looked a bit sad this morning. Or maybe he looked lost.
He stopped and touched a selection of silk scarves that were hanging next to the display of shoes. “This one looks like something Jo would have kept for herself,” he said, turning to talk to Melody over his shoulder.
Melody stood and walked around the counter, heading in his direction. “It’s nice to see you, Mr. Lyme. Are you looking for something in particular?”
“Not really,” he said on a soft sigh. “I was just doing a little shopping and thought I’d stop in.” His smile wilted a little at the corners. “Actually, I was just missing Jo and thought I’d come by and see if I could feel her somehow.” He glanced around. “I like what you’ve done with the place. I guess you’ve decided not to sell it?” There was a hopeful lift to his words.
“I’m still selling. But I’ve decided to sell this place only to a buyer who intends to keep it open as a thrift store.”
Mr. Lyme nodded, his eyes glistening. “I think that’s good. Jo would have been pleased to know that.”
Melody watched him for a long moment. “Do you feel her here? Right now?”
Mr. Lyme sighed as he continued to glance around. Then he pointed to the corner where all the donated toys were. “She loved to take the old dolls that were left here. They’d be marked up with Sharpies and their hair would be cut off by their previous owners. Your aunt would spend all day sitting behind that counter scrubbing them clean. She’d even out their haircuts and make them bows to cover the bald spots.” He chuckled to himself. “Those dolls would be like new or better by the time she was done.”
Melody looked at the current selection of dolls in that corner. She hadn’t touched them up the way Jo apparently had. The ones for sale right now were obviously used and well loved. “Sorry. I guess I’m not making Jo proud with the condition of these toys right now.”
Mr. Lyme turned to her. “On the contrary. She’d be very proud of you, Melody. She always was. Do you mind if I just walk around for a little longer?”
“Not at all. Take your time.” Melody gestured to the counter. “I’ll just be up there working.”
“What are you working on?”
“An event in Charlotte.”
“Ah. That’s nice.” Mr. Lyme nodded. “I hear your friend Brianna will be having a homecoming soon. Maybe you’ll plan an event for her.”
Melody hadn’t even considered that, but of course she should. “I wouldn’t even know who to invite.”
“The whole town, of course. She’s one of us after all. Doesn’t matter how long she’s been away. Home is home.” He gave her a meaningful look. “Go ahead and work. Don’t mind the sentimental old man walking around.”
Melody squeezed his shoulder. “Let me know if you need something.”
“I will.”
Melody returned to her stool behind the counter, but she couldn’t focus on the event for her author client anymore. Now her thoughts were on Jo and Mr. Lyme, and all the time they’d lost. On the dolls and Jo’s Isle of Lost Toys. On Bri’s homecoming event, which had to happen.
Ten minutes later Mr. Lyme came to the counter holding a doll without any clothes. Its hair was matted and someone had taken a purple marker to give it eyeshadow. That or a black eye, Melody wasn’t sure. He held it up. “I’d like to purchase this please.”
Melody held up a hand. “Take it. No charge.”
Mr. Lyme hesitated as if he was debating whether to argue with her. “I’ll bring this back once I’ve given her a Jo-worthy makeover.”
Emotions knotted at the center of Melody’s chest. She hoped she’d be here to see the results. “Sounds good. Have a good rest of your day, Mr. Lyme.”
“You too.” He tucked the doll under his arm like a football and turned to walk out.
Once he was gone, Melody wandered over to the toy section as well, scanning over the selection until she finally picked up a little wooden dollhouse that had seen much better days. She wasn’t all that crafty but she knew how to work a paint brush. She carried it to the counter and placed it on the floor beside her stool. Then she picked up her notepad and turned the page away from the one for the author event. At the top of the fresh page, she wrote: Bri’s Homecoming Event.
To: Bri Johnson
From: Liz Dawson
Subject: Familiar
Bri,
I think some things stay familiar even when you haven’t experienced them in years. The heart has memory, maybe a better one than your brain. The familiar doesn’t need your yesterday or last week to be relevant. You’ll see. Once you get home, everything will feel true and right, almost like you never left. And if that’s not the case, and you really need to, of course you can email me, day or night. I’ll always reply.
xx,
Liz