Chapter Twenty-seven
Melody hurried down High Street on her way to the Merc, anxious to get back to work and try to undo all of Freddy’s damage.
Melody had finally gotten him to agree to return to law school, a decision Mums seemed to be happy about, too.
Mums was coming round more now, spending most of the day out of bed and downstairs.
She even seemed to be interested in attending the Women’s League meeting regarding the Memorial Day parade.
At any rate, Melody was finally feeling comfortable enough now to leave her at home with just Helenka.
When Melody finally reached the old place, she paused in front of the big display window, hating the fact that Freddy—and presumably Mrs. Haufbrau—had put up the old “Get Ready for Spring” sign and displayed all the usual items: shovels, rakes, seed planters, umbrellas.
Gone were the cider, the bicycle, the scarves, hats, baskets, and all of the other items Melody had tried to feature.
She let out a deep breath. She certainly had her work cut out for her.
She pushed open the door, setting off the tinkling of the shop bell. Melody enjoyed the look of surprise on Harriet’s face.
“Melody!” Harriet cried. “What are you doing here?” She hurried from behind the counter and embraced her old boss.
Delighted, Melody hugged her back. This was definitely the right choice—if she had had any doubts about her decision. Which she didn’t.
“Fred didn’t mention you were coming home. How long you back for?”
“For good!” Melody beamed.
“For good? But why?” Harriet’s face looked worried. “Did something happen in Chicago?”
“No, I just decided that—”
“Why on God’s green earth are you here?” Mrs. Haufbrau interrupted, coming up from the back, still dressed all in black. “Is your mother ill? Fred didn’t mention it.” She glanced worriedly at the clock. “Where is Fred, in fact? Never known him to be late. Is he ill?”
Melody sighed. “No, no one’s ill, Mrs. Haufbrau. I’ve decided to come home. For good. I was just explaining that to Harriet.”
Mrs. Haufbrau’s face twisted in dismay. “What about Fred?”
“He’s going back to school.”
“Well, who’s going to run the Merc?”
“I am, obviously.”
“Good Lord, again?”
Melody gritted her teeth. Clearly, she preferred Fred. “Yes, again.”
Mrs. Haufbrau let out a reluctant grunt. “Well, I suppose it’s the best thing for him. That’s what your dad would’ve wanted, I reckon.”
“Indeed,” Melody muttered.
“Oh, but Melody! Won’t you miss school and everything?” Harriet fretted.
“I don’t know. I’ve missed this place too much.
And all of you,” she added, her eyes darting quickly from Harriet to Mrs. Haufbrau and back again.
“Though it looks . . .” Melody gestured widely and made a point of intensely surveying the shelves .
. . “exactly like it did on the day I arrived from Chicago the last time.” She dared to cock an eyebrow at Mrs. Haufbrau.
“Yes, it does,” the older woman snipped. “There wasn’t a thing wrong with it when your father was running things, Melody. I don’t know why you had to go and change everything.”
Melody let out a huff. “I had to change everything, Mrs. Haufbrau, because the Merc was in danger of going under. It’s still in danger.”
“It was doing fine when Lou ran it,” Mrs. Haufbrau said snidely, as if the Merc’s demise was her fault—not Freddy’s, or God forbid, her father’s.
“But it wasn’t, Mrs. Haufbrau. He was deeply in debt.
That’s why I started brewing and selling the cider, which you’ve gotten rid of, I see.
” She was careful not to implicate Harriet by revealing how much she already knew from her letters.
“It was the sales from the cider and . . . and other things”—she dared not mention Douglas’s ring—“and the Christmas gift from all the shop owners that allowed me to pay them off. But according to Fred,” she emphasized, guessing that his opinion probably meant more to Mrs. Haufbrau than hers, “the Merc is still not really solvent. So, we have to change. I’m thinking of devoting one wall to local art or maybe having poetry readings or some other type of performances in the evenings. ”
Mrs. Haufbrau threw up her hands. “Good Lord! I’ve heard everything now.”
“We’ll still be the Merc,” Melody assured her, “selling saltines and candy sticks and the Saturday Evening Post, but we need to sell the cider and other local products, too. Like the baskets and the soap. Where are Kate’s baskets, anyway?
” She looked around. “Surely you didn’t pull those from the shelves, too, did you? ”
“We sold out of them!” Harriet put in. “Kate came in the other day—finally!—and asked about bringing more in. But I told her we weren’t going to be stocking them anymore.” She glanced worriedly at Mrs. Haufbrau. “I’m sorry, Melody! That’s what Fred told me to say!”
“I know. You’re not to blame. I’ll speak to her.” Melody rubbed her brow. “She’s not still in that badger hole, is she?”
“No, she’s back home. But, Melody! You’ll never guess! She got married to Edmund Bertram!”
Melody was a little taken aback. Edmund Bertram was an extremely attractive young man.
She didn’t know much about him, to be honest, but Kate Kerwyn was not whom Melody imagined would catch his fancy.
“They’re already married? Kate isn’t . .
. is she?” Melody asked delicately, as there was usually only one reason for a rushed wedding.
“Oh, no! Not that,” Harriet said hurriedly. “It’s because Edmund joined up. He ships out soon.”
“Oh.”
“I can’t believe Kate ended up married before me, can you?” Harriet gushed. “But I’m over the moon for her! She’s never looked so happy. Wait till you see her, Melody.”
“Well, it seems wedding fever is in the air,” Melody said, trying not to think about Eustace. He had, up until the day she left, still had flowers delivered daily.
“Yes! And you know who else is getting married?”
The shop bell rang, then, and Mrs. Schaffer bustled in.
“Oh, hello, Mrs. Schaffer!” called Mrs. Haufbrau, making her way behind the front counter. “I’ve got that cloth you special ordered.”
“I was hoping!” exclaimed Mrs. Schaffer. “I was passing anyway. Thought I’d stop in and see.”
Mrs. Haufbrau pulled a bolt of cloth from under the counter and laid it out. It was a pale blue with rows of tiny yellow rosebuds.
“Oh, Marcella! Now that’s just what I wanted.”
While the two women continued to chat, Harriet leaned closer to Melody. “I’m glad you’re back, Melody. And I like your new ideas.”
“Thanks, Harriet,” she said, patting her friend’s arm. “I knew I could count on you.” She gave her a smile. “Well,” she said, her eyes darting toward the back. “I suppose I should go say hello to Cal.” She had tried to say it as casually as she could. “Is he back there? Strange he hasn’t come up.”
“He might be in the cooler. Want me to go get him?”
“No, that’s okay, I want to check the shelves anyway.”
Harriet’s face contorted into a rare frown. “Oh, Melody, I’m not sure you’re going to be happy about Cal. He’s—”
“Yes, I know. Fred told me. He’s leaving next week. That’s just what I need to talk to him about.”
Melody proceeded toward the back of the shop, pausing to tidy various items as she went, though it was really just an excuse to rehearse the speech she had been repeating for days now.
She had come up with an idea of how to get Cal to stay.
She would offer him the position of co-manager.
She wouldn’t be able to pay him all that much more, but maybe if he had a stake in the place, it would make a difference.
With a deep breath, she finally made herself round the final row of shelves and saw him standing over the back worktable, slicing some hunk of meat, his dark hair falling over one eye.
She watched him unawares for a few moments, and felt her stomach clench a little.
She had certainly missed him. She hadn’t realized how much.
Seeing her, he broke into a smile, which she eagerly returned. So far, so good.
“Heard you were back.” He set down his knife and moved toward the little sink.
“Yes, I’m . . . I’m here for good,” she said to his broad shoulders.
“For good? Why?” He turned as he wiped his hands on a towel.
“Well, I . . .” She faltered. “I guess it just made sense. Fred should really finish his degree, and Mums needs me. She was in a terrible state.”
He leaned on the glass display case. “That all?” He rested his chin on his arms. His dark eyes peered at her, and she felt suddenly flustered. She had completely forgotten her speech!
“Well, I . . . if you’re referring to Chicago, I guess it just wasn’t the same when I went back,” she admitted.
“Yeah?”
She considered elaborating, but she didn’t want to explain her silly classes, her disillusionment with Mundelein society, and certainly not her failed relationship with Eustace.
“The point is,” she said, twirling a lock of her hair, “I’ve decided to come back.
Turns out I kind of like it here in Merriweather.
And, though it’s probably hard for you to believe, I guess I like this dusty old place.
” She tried smiling at him. “I missed it. And everyone.”
She had wanted “everyone” to come out suggestively, intimately, but it was more of a bark. She bit the inside of her cheek. “I . . . I’ve got a lot of new ideas. I was hoping to talk them over with you.”
He came out from behind the counter and stood in front of her, leaning against the case.
“Well, maybe you could talk them over with Uncle Lyle. He’s coming back on Monday. Didn’t Fred tell you?”
“He did. But I was hoping to discuss that with you.” For the life of her, she couldn’t remember her speech; she would have to utter whatever came into her mind!
“I . . . I was wondering if you might think about staying. If I made you a co-manager?” She peered at him, but she couldn’t read his expression.
“I couldn’t pay you all that much more than you’re already getting, but you could .
. . you could help me run the Merc. You’d be more in charge than you are now.
” She looked at him hopefully. “What do you think?”
He rubbed a hand through his dark hair. “I don’t know, Melody. You see—”
“I know things haven’t always been smooth between us,” she rushed on, “but . . .” She paused, not sure if she should reveal her true feelings.
But if she didn’t, he would be gone, and she would never get her chance, not unless she wanted to write a letter, which she did not.
“I . . . I know it’s been a while since the Christmas party at our house, but I .
. . I guess I felt like there might have been .
. . well, something between us.” She winced at how badly this was going. “I thought maybe we could see?”
A muscle in his jaw twitched slightly, but otherwise she couldn’t read his expression.
She tried to chuckle. “If I’m being honest, one of the real reasons I came back .
. .” She paused. Now or never. “Was you.” She bit the inside of her cheek and held her breath.
Eagerly she searched his face, and when she saw it light up for just a fraction of an instant, a happy little laugh escaped her.
In the next moment, however, he rubbed his eyes with his fingertips and then briefly steepled them under his nose. He exhaled heavily.
“I don’t know how to say this, Melody,” he said in a low voice, “but while you were away, I got engaged to Jessie Lange.”