Chapter 5
Adam spread the plans for Melinda’s pergola over his drafting desk. As he reviewed the details, his mind drifted to the time he spent with Mel. She was an intriguing woman. A widow and a matchmaker, with a passion for gardening.
He slid the pergola design aside and added a few details to the next page. His idea for a chicken coop looked more like a cottage for a child’s playhouse, except with an easy access panel to clean out the mess the chickens would make. He smiled as he added a couple of birds into the drawing. When she was ready to talk chickens, he would be prepared.
His email pinged. He opened a message from Mel. He scanned the contents, clicked on the attachment. A picture of an attractive lady with a nice smile and pretty eyes filled his screen. Using the mouse, he minimized it to half the screen, then carefully read the information Melinda sent him.
Hi Adam,
Meet Susan. She lives in Newton, which is about twenty minutes from here. She enjoys the outdoors, movies and reading. You should contact her and arrange a coffee date. I’ve listed her email address below. But of course, the choice is yours.
If you decide to pass, please let me know and I’ll send you another match. We’ll do this one at a time. If you do meet her and don’t feel any sparks, drop me an email and I’ll let her know.
Above all I want to encourage you to have fun with the process. Meeting potential matches is like shopping for a new car. Sometimes it can take several test drives before you find one that is a good fit.
Melinda
Adam looked at Susan’s picture again. She was pretty, with nice brown eyes. He started a new email. In the subject line he typed: Matched by It’s Just Coffee.
Hello Susan. I received your information from Melinda Phillips, It’s Just Coffee. I was wondering if you’ve read my profile and if you have any interest in meeting. The location is lady’s choice. I look forward to hearing from you.
Adam Bell
Before he could change his mind, he hit Send. He leaned back in his chair, wondering how long it would take for a reply as he waited for his computer to shut down he texted Melinda.
Got your email about the match. I’ve emailed Susan. Drawings are ready—when can I stop over?
He got a speedy reply. Anytime!
On my way. He rolled up the plans. Before he got up, he massaged his knee. It was aching. Rain must be coming.
Melinda took the printed pages lying on her desk and put the stacks in color-coded folders. Business had been surprisingly brisk over the last year as even more people contracted for her services.
She pushed away from her desk, stretched her arms overhead and walked through the side door into her sun-filled kitchen. After pouring a glass of iced tea, she leaned against the counter and took a sip. Her thoughts drifted back to her client list. Was she doing the right thing, working with so many people? What would happen if she started to rush and matched the wrong couples? Her intuition was strong and she was seldom wrong about a match. Still, she worried. But it was always up to the people if they wanted to see someone after the first date.
Tires crunched in the driveway. She set her glass down and hurried to the front door and she saw Adam through the side window poised to knock. She pulled it open and smiled.
With a chuckle, he said, “Hello there.”
“Come in. I just poured some iced tea; would you like a glass?”
“I am a little parched.” He grinned and held up a hard, plastic tube. “I brought your plans.”
“Well then, what are you doing still standing in the doorway?” she teased. “Come in. I can’t wait to see them.”
Adam followed her through the living room and into her kitchen. “Something smells good.”
“Oh, I baked cookies earlier. Oatmeal. Would you like one?”
He gave her a lopsided grin. “Homemade cookies? Absolutely.”
Melinda stifled a laugh. “You haven’t tasted them yet.”
He set the tube on the island and joked, “Did you add something weird to them?”
“Just raisins.” She set an empty glass and the cookie jar on the counter. Opening the refrigerator, she took the pitcher of tea out. It slipped from her hands. She watched, as if in slow motion, as the glass hit the tile floor and shattered, spraying bits of glass and a half-gallon of iced tea in front of her feet.
“Wait!” Adam’s hand shot out to stop her. “You’ll step on glass. You’ve got bare feet.” He frowned and glanced around the room. “Where are your shoes?”
She pointed to the back door. “Rubber boots.”
Instead of getting the boots for her, Adam scooped her up and set her on the counter. “What do you have to clean this up?”
She was surprised at his commanding tone. “I can get it. Would you hand me my boots?”
“I’ve got this.” He pointed to her feet. “Stay there. I don’t want you to cut your feet.”
She did as Adam asked and watched as he opened the broom closet and pulled out a mop and bucket, along with the broom and a dustpan.
Adam handed her the boots and began to sweep the broken glass into the pan. After slipping into the boots, Melinda hopped off the counter and began to fill a bucket with water and vinegar.
Adam said, “I’ll sop up the tea if you want to use the mop. Together we’ll get this done in no time.”
“Adam, I really appreciate your help.”
“Think of it as payment for the enormous number of cookies I’m about to eat.”
Softly she said, “Thank you.” She wasn’t accustomed to having help around the house.
He dipped his head to the side. “You’re welcome.” He held up the bottle of white vinegar. “Now about your cleansers…”
With a small laugh, she said, “Trust me. That’s all you need, best natural cleaner on earth.”
His eyebrow arched. “Really?”
Melinda started the kettle and Adam tossed the wet paper towels in the garbage can. He put everything away and sat down on a stool. She could feel Adam watching her while she poured hot water over the tea bags.
“I didn’t realize people still made iced tea the old-fashioned way,” he said, “When I was a kid, my grandmother used to.”
Melinda smiled. “Mine made it from a bottle of dried tea, like instant coffee.” She wrinkled up her nose. “It was awful.”
She set out several cookies on a plate and slid it over the countertop. “While the tea finishes steeping, why don’t you show me your ideas for the patio?”
Adam popped open the tube and looked at the countertop. “Let’s unroll this outside and I can walk you through the ideas.”
Melinda felt herself grin. “Like you can paint me a visual with the drawings and actual description.” She started to walk toward the back door and turned to see Adam was still sitting at the counter. “Are you coming?”
He had a pained expression on his face. “Sorry, I got a muscle cramp.”
“We can stay inside if that would help.” She stood in the open doorway.
With a shake of his head, Adam slowly stood up. He half limped down the short hallway, stiff-legged. “Not to worry, it’ll be fine.”
It wasn’t a cramp. It was a quick, searing pain that spread downward. But he couldn’t tell her the truth. The last thing he wanted was sympathy, or worse, pity.
He couldn’t stand to have her feel sorry for him. This was not what he wanted the afternoon to be like. “After you.” Melinda stepped out the door. In the distance, thunder rumbled. “We should probably hurry.” He wanted to massage his knee again, but that would draw too much attention to something he wanted to avoid at all cost.
Adam ignored the pain and strode over to the table. With a flick of his hand, the plans rolled out. “Mel...”
Melinda pointed to the drawing. “So, tell me, how is this going to look?” She glanced around the patio and back to the paper.
Adam leaned in and ran his hand over the plans. He tapped a couple of circles. “Right here we’re going to have columns where your grapevines can climb. As you asked, all the wood is going to be cedar.”
She pointed to a rectangle on the drawing. “What’s right here?”
“I added a bench so you can sit and relax.”
“Could it be a swing instead?” She looked into his eyes. Adam couldn’t help but notice her eyes, framed by long lashes. They still had flecks of gold, but today they were more green than blue. He liked how they seemed to change, like the Atlantic Ocean. They reminded him of that friendly glass she had been looking for when they walked on the beach the day of the picnic.
“Sure, that’s easy enough to do.” With a sweeping motion of his arm, he gestured to where each column would stand. “The overall height would be nine feet.”
“I can see it.” She half closed her eyes and smiled at him. “It’s going to be just perfect.”
Something inside him stirred. Adam really wanted to make this a special place for her. He handed her a smaller piece of paper. “This is the total damage.” He grinned. “But with the cedar wood, it will last for many years to come.”
She glanced at the price. If she was shocked, she didn’t let it show. “When can you start?”
He cocked his head. “You’re okay with the estimate?”
“If anything, I’m surprised it wasn’t more.” She gave him a bright smile. “So?”
He ran a hand over his chin. “I can start the week after next.”
Her face fell. “Okay.”
“Is something wrong, Mel?”
She tilted her head and wrinkled her nose. “Why do you call me Mel?”
“I’m sorry. It seems to suit you, but if it bothers you I won’t do it again.”
With a shake of her head, she said, “It’s just that my husband used to call me Mel.”
Adam could feel his heart constrict. “I’m sorry, again. I didn’t mean to dredge up a painful memory.”
Melinda laid a hand on his arm. “It’s okay, really. You can call me Mel, but when it’s just the two of us. I like to use Melinda in business; I think it gives me a professional edge.”
He stuck out a hand. “Care to shake on it?” Her hand fit into his perfectly. He held on to it and said, “I promise to call you Melinda. But don’t get ticked off if I slip up.”
She gave him a sad little smile. “Thank you for understanding.”
Fat drops of rain cut short his next comment as she pulled her hand free and dashed towards the back door. “Are you coming?”
Adam rolled up the plans and hurried after her, ignoring the twinge he felt in his knee. He couldn’t tell what was stronger—the jab to his leg or the jolt to his heart.