Chapter 14 #2
Melinda offered the pipe again. “Live on the edge, Drake,” she said. “It’s not going to bite.” Drake accepted this time. It was clear he had never smoked by the way he coughed, but Melinda didn’t call him out on it.
The two of them peeled apart little bits of their lives like the skin of a fruit. Melinda had never left town. She admitted that staying in one place had helped her feel the most like herself. “Speaking of which,” she said, “are you busy right now? I want to show you something.”
The snow fell faster as they went for a brisk walk, each flake in a race with the others to find its landing. Melinda and Drake peeked inside the windows of a candy store, a produce shop, a soda counter. Eventually, she pointed to a purple sign above an antique store. MY MOTHER’S SHOP , it read.
“You worked here in high school.” As soon as the words came out, Drake pretended not to know them as fact. “Right?”
A parade of dresses brightened the window.
Melinda unlocked the door to the shop, removed a BE RIGHT BACK sign, pulled Drake inside, and went through the motions of making herself at home.
She yanked the cord of an onyx floor lamp, tossed her coat on a wood hanger, then pressed the button on a hot-water kettle.
Her knees found the top of the front counter as she shuffled for something on a high shelf. They were surrounded by antique wares.
“Hot chocolate,” she said, snapping her fingers.
She located some cocoa powder and emptied it into two chipped mugs.
“Yes, to answer your question. I worked here in high school. And this is my store now.” Melinda shimmied off the counter.
Her feet plopped back on the ground. “It used to be my mom’s.
She named it for her mother’s love of antiques, and well, the name still works. ”
“Where’s your mom now?” Drake asked, looking around to see if they were alone.
A black cat crawled out from the corner of the room and gave a pathetic roar.
Melinda bent to pet the top of its head.
“She passed a few years ago. She was sick for a while. People always say the grief fades, but I find it just evolves. Changes its medium.” She stood back up and tried to shake the sadness out of the room.
“I’m sorry,” Drake said.
Melinda handed him a cocoa mug and moved closer. “Have you ever lost anyone?”
“My grandma. But not a parent or anything.”
“That’s a big loss,” she acknowledged. “I’ve noticed this thing where, when someone dies, you start to lose who you were with them.
Maybe that’s why I stay in town. My mom built our whole life around this place, you know?
Our family friend, Clara, from Clara’s gifts, actually paid the first month’s rent here.
The store started with nothing. Just a few pieces of furniture.
And my mom turned it into a magical place I love.
” The cat got up and sulked back toward a hidden lair. “Anyway, that’s Pasta.”
“Pasta?”
“She came with the name when I adopted her. I think she’s more of a Martha, though.” Melinda darted back behind the counter and grabbed a flowy white shawl to wrap around herself. “It’s freezing. Can you shove the door?”
“Huh?”
“It sticks. Shove it. Like it hurt your feelings.”
Drake pushed on the door with a certain amount of strength, and they were sealed into the warmth. Melinda explained the stories behind some of the relics she’d picked up. In the center of the room, there was a vanity where a woman might sit and admire herself in a dress before bringing it home.
“I don’t know anything about antiques,” Drake said.
“That’s not why I brought you here. I wanted you to see it and be proud.”
“You did?”
“Isn’t that what we all want from people we used to know? To see us and be proud of us?” Melinda took a sip of cocoa. “To say, ah, how great she ended up there! That fits.” She made the motion of connecting dots with her fingers as she sat down on a blue Persian rug that lined the floor.
“I think it’s really great you ended up here,” Drake said, taking a seat opposite her.
“Thank you.” She ran her finger around the edge of the mug. “I believe that people should be honest with each other about what they want. Life’s short, and it’s infinitely better when it’s spent in truth.”
The snow outside made it impossible to see anything.
“For example, I want to dance,” Melinda said.
Their eyes met. She sprung up to put on some music.
The notes were layered and hypnotizing. Drake stood, too.
Her arms circled around his neck. The shapes of their bodies inched closer together in the vanity mirror.
Eventually, Melinda’s head rested on his chest, and his arms wrapped around her waist.
“I think that … I want to kiss you,” Drake said when the record finished. “But only if that’s okay. Only if—”
Melinda kissed him first. It lasted forever.
No one was coming out to shop in the storm, so she flipped the little window sign to CLOSED and put it back up. They stayed tucked away until the late afternoon turned over into night. While all the people they grew up with were sleeping nearby, they were dancing.
And then, the scene faded, blurred, and Ellie flinched as something far less romantic—and far more revealing—took over the screen.