Chapter TWELVE
The next morning, Melissa did her neighborly duty and crossed her lawn to Ross’s house. He’d put on a brave face yesterday, but she could well imagine the pain he must be in. A hot breakfast might make a difference.
When she knocked on the door, Mike answered it. “Good morning! Come on in.”
Melissa smiled. “I thought a healthy, hot breakfast might be welcome.”
“A definite yes from me,”
he responded. “Let me go find Ross. He’s just getting up.”
He left her and quickly returned. “Ross is all for it. He says it sounds great.”
“Give me a few minutes, and I’ll whip up bacon, eggs, and English muffins. Ross needs to eat well following surgery.”
Melissa went to the kitchen, comfortable with where everything was, got coffee going, and started to cook bacon.
She was mixing seasonings into a bowl of eggs when Ross appeared, making his way slowly to the kitchen table with his walker. “Something smells good.”
“Nothing like bacon to win a man’s stomach,” she said.
He chuckled. “I thought the saying was ‘cooking is the way to win a man’s heart.’”
She laughed, too. “Test it out. Then we’ll talk about it.”
She handed him a strip of crisp, cooked bacon.
He ate it and then patted his stomach. “I liked it. Thanks.”
Melissa continued cooking the meal, pleased she could do this for them.
After serving them each a plate of food, she helped herself to an English muffin and joined them at the table with a mug of coffee.
“When do you start rehab?”
she asked Ross.
“I have someone coming to the house to do some exercises for the next four days. Then, as long as you’re still willing, I’ll need you to start taking me to the Physical Therapy Center outside of Concord.”
“That’s a definite yes,”
said Melissa.
“Good,”
said Mike, “because I’m leaving for Florida later this afternoon. I have to check in on my tennis clinic. I’m running a tennis camp there for the next four weeks.”
“No worries. I’ve already scheduled my mornings to do this,”
said Melissa. “Now, I’m going to go home and work in the garden before heading into the restaurant.”
She got up from her seat, bussed the dirty plates and silverware to the sink, and turned to Mike. “Will you load the dishwasher?”
“Sure,”
he said. “I’m used to ‘batching’ it and keeping my condo clean.”
She smiled with approval, gave him a little salute, and left. “See you tomorrow. Crystal is fixing your dinner. Right, Ross?”
“Yes, Ma’am. My dinners are taken care of for the next week or so.”
“I love our little town and the people in it,”
said Melissa. “Safe trip home, Mike.”
###
A few days later, Melissa stood in the kitchen of her parents’ restaurant, wondering what her life might have been like if she hadn’t grown up in the restaurant business. There were days when she loved working in the kitchen, and her soul was filled with satisfaction because she could do something she loved. And then, like today, she felt restless. Were all her days going to be spent cooking in this kitchen? Wasn’t there more to life? She’d tried to have more free time for other things, but inevitably, she ended up back here.
“Hey, are you alright?”
her father asked her.
She looked at him and smiled. He was a man of medium height, with gray hair and enough of a tummy to look the role in his chef’s uniform of black-checked pants and white jacket. His brown eyes were all-seeing and filled with the soft love she knew he had for her.
“I’m wondering if I can get another day off each week. I’m missing out on so many interesting things all my friends are doing.”
His gray-eyed gaze, like hers, rested on her. “I know how busy we’ve been. Summer is the most important season for us. But we'll work it out as long as you’re not asking for Thursday through Sunday off. You already have Monday off. Want to make it a two-day rest and take off Tuesdays too?”
“That’s a help, I suppose,”
Melissa answered unenthusiastically. “Mom has already agreed to let me take off after the kitchen closes Saturday night. Normally, I’d help with the clean-up, but if I can leave at ten, it gives me some time with my friends who might still be at Jake’s.”
Her father clapped a hand on her shoulder. “I appreciate your help, Melissa. After years of cooking together, we know what one another will do before it happens. That’s a big deal in a commercial kitchen.”
“I know how much you appreciate me, Dad. But everyone else in town seems to be pairing up, and I don’t want to miss my chance to create a family of my own.”
Her father clapped a hand to his mouth. “I had no idea. You’ve always been so determined to be your own woman, do things your way, and be on your own.”
“Please, Dad, don’t say anything to Mom about my reasons for wanting time off. She’ll have a wedding planned before I even get a chance to date. Maybe it’s my hormones talking, but I don’t want to miss out on having a life outside of Fins.”
He wrapped his arms around her. “My darling girl, I’ll cooperate however I can, but I can’t give you up in the kitchen on Friday or Saturday nights. Do you understand?”
Melissa nodded, knowing it was the truth. “Maybe next winter, we can do something about my schedule.”
“Maybe we can interview for a sous-chef to add to the mix.”
Her father patted her on the back. “You’re right. Let’s not say too much to your mother, or she’ll worry about you and the business.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
Feeling better, Melissa went to put on her jacket. Dirk was acting as if they hadn’t dated. Was she wasting her time hoping they had a chance of building a relationship?
###
The next morning, Melissa drove next door to Ross’s house. This was the first day of his recovery at the rehabilitation center in Concord. As precious as time was to her, she was happy to chauffeur him there. Being with him and sharing companionship was easy.
It was satisfying being able to talk to Ross about anything. Even Dirk. She still didn’t know what was going on with him. Dirk had said he’d call, but he hadn’t.
“How are you feeling overall?”
she asked Ross as he greeted her at the door. “You seem much more agile.”
“I’ve had other injuries before and have learned just to keep going, keep my mind off it,”
he said. “I don’t have the pressure to get back into a game. The physical requirements and expectations for playing a professional sport can be difficult.”
She helped him to her car and stood aside as he carefully lifted his leg into the passenger side.
She shut the door, went around the car, and slid behind the wheel.
As she drove, she said to Ross, “You told me you always wanted to play baseball. I knew from a young age I wanted to cook with my father. So, I understand your willingness to do whatever it takes to make sure you have a speedy recovery.”
“Do you ever get tired of your job? My injuries forced me out of baseball, but I still miss it.”
“Funny you should ask that,”
said Melissa. “I talked to my dad recently to see if I could have another day off because I’m missing out socially. He said yes, but I’m not sure what it would take to make me quit completely. It’s always been part of my life, even as a young child.”
“I get it,”
said Ross. “It’s hard to strike a balance when you are successful at your job.”
Though the trip wouldn’t take long, Melissa enjoyed being out in the countryside. She loved seeing the stacked-stone walls and trees lining many of the back-country roads leading to the highway.
Concord, the capital of New Hampshire, was home to the State House, a gold-domed building completed in 1819. Melissa never tired of seeing it and being in the attractive New England town. It was home to many historic sites and was famous for their carriage making—Concord Coaches. It was this sort of history that drew people to the city. Melissa was no exception. After living in small-town Lilac Lake, it was a treat to go there occasionally.
Melissa pulled up in front of a red brick building that housed the physical rehabilitation center and two other medical offices. She got out of the car and went around to Ross’s side to help him inside.
“You don’t need to do this,”
said Ross, but Melissa noticed he held onto her arm as he walked up the ramp to get inside.
At the door, she said, “I’ll wait outside in the car. I’ve got a book series going.”
“Come on inside and wait. You’ll be more comfortable there,”
said Ross with a note of concern.
She walked into the office with him to please him and noticed a comfortable waiting area.
The receptionist checking him in smiled up at Ross. “It’s quite an honor to have you here. Margo can’t wait to work with you.”
A young woman with long blond hair woven into two braids walked over to greet him. Wearing jeans and a sleeveless top, she appeared to be at the height of physical conditioning. “Hi, Ross. I’m Margo, your new torturer.”
He grinned at the challenge. “We’ll see about that. Meet my neighbor, Melissa Hendrickson. She’s kind enough to drive me here for my appointments. She’s a talented chef, so if you come to Lilac Lake, be sure to eat at Fins.”
“I’ve eaten there, and the food was delicious,”
said Margo.
“Hi, Margo, and thanks for the promotion, Ross,”
said Melissa, feeling her cheeks burn. She wished she could be more sophisticated and handle compliments better, but she wasn’t used to them.
After Ross and Margo headed out back, Melissa sat and opened her eReader. While she read, she could hear Ross’s efforts echoing in the workout room as he pushed through the pain of getting full use of his leg again. This surgery was simpler than the ones he’d endured before, the ones following his motorcycle accident, and she realized how hard he’d worked to walk naturally again with pins in his leg.
She felt fortunate to have someone like Ross as a friend. He was kind, hard-working, and determined. In some ways, they were alike. Her thoughts flew to Dirk. What had happened to make him back away?