CHAPTER FIVE - MELODY
CHAPTER FIVE
MELODY
Melody had spent the last several hours at Hidden Treasures, taking stock of what was inside and deciding on her next steps for putting it up for sale. Now, Melody stepped inside her father’s house, intending to go straight back to her room. She and her father had barely uttered a word to each other since she’d arrived so why start now?
“Melody?” her father’s voice called after her.
Melody froze but didn’t turn. “Yes?”
“How are things going with the store?”
“Fine. I scheduled a meeting with Abigail Winslow for tomorrow. She’s going to help me put it up for sale.”
“Sell? You’re sure that’s what you want?” he asked.
“Absolutely. I have no use for the place.” Melody waited to see how her father would respond. When he didn’t, she continued down the hall.
“Melody?”
She stopped walking again. “Yeah?”
“Are you . . . okay?” he asked quietly.
She noted the hesitation in his voice. Why would he hesitate? He was her father. He had a right to ask how she was doing. And she was his daughter. She had a right to want him to care. To want him to ask her to consider keeping the store. To stay in Trove Isle. Not that she ever would, but it was nice to be wanted.
She turned now and took a few steps toward him, her breathing shallow. “Not really.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Doubtful. Once I sell, I’ll be out of your hair. As long as you don’t mind me staying through next week.” She hated to ask anything of her father, but it was that or live out of her car. Or she guessed she could use the foldout cot she’d noticed in the back room of the thrift store. The amount of dust inside might kill her in her sleep though.
“This is your home. Stay as long as you want.”
Two things. This wasn’t her home—not anymore. And he wasn’t saying he wanted her to stay, just that she could.
She blinked past the threat of tears that stung her eyes, reminding herself to breathe. “Thanks. I’m leaving next weekend at the latest. I told my work partner that wrapping things up here wouldn’t take longer than two weeks, but I’m hoping to be gone sooner.”
“Of course,” he said quietly.
She cleared her throat. “Right now, I think I just need to go to bed. Sleep always makes things new again,” Melody said, the words rolling off her tongue the way they had all her adult life.
“Your mom used to say that. Do you remember?”
“No,” Melody said, honestly. And she didn’t want to remember. That’s why she’d left Trove Isle. To forget. Being back for too long threatened to bring all the painful things right back to the surface. There was too much grief wrapped up on this side of Trove Bridge. Even more than she’d realized. “Goodnight,” she called behind her, walking down the hall.
She stood in her bedroom doorway for a moment. There were two beds for two sisters who’d grown up as the worst kind of enemies. Not for any particular reason except that they were siblings vying for the same things and attention from their parents. Then suddenly one summer everything had changed and they’d become the best of friends. They’d shared secrets and stayed up late talking about their dreams and the boys they liked.
The boy next door, Christopher West—undeserving as he was—for Alyssa. A dozen different guys for Melody.
A deep ache settled over her heart. She needed to get out of here, the sooner the better. First thing tomorrow, she’d meet with the real estate agent and begin the process for listing Hidden Treasures. Who knew? Maybe by the end of next week, it would even be sold. Either way, she had to head back.
Her business partner Julie was holding down the fort at Memory Lane Events. Melody was the business brain, and Julie had all the creativity. Thus, it was fine that Julie was organizing and running things while Melody was gone. Melody could still run numbers from a distance, pay bills, make orders, and stuff like that. Melody was still keeping up with everything and she didn’t want to let her partner down.
Lying back on her bed, she stared up at the ceiling now. After the accident, Melody had packed her bags and driven to the bridge several times, ready to cross over and leave. She’d forced herself to turn back, however, telling herself that Alyssa wouldn’t want her to disappear on her dad and her friends when they needed her most. On Melody’s final night in this house though, right after the funeral, her father had finally broken what had felt like an insufferable silence. They’d wordlessly sat at the dinner table like they’d been doing every night since Alyssa’s death. Then he’d looked up at her. For a moment, she’d thought he was going to offer some words of comfort. She was grieving too after all.
“Why Alyssa? There were four of you in the car, but she was the one taken. Why her?”
Melody had interpreted that question as Why not you?
They had been on their way to prom. It was senior prom for Melody, Bri, and Liz. And junior prom for Alyssa. They’d decided to go stag because what could be better than attending prom with your very best friends? Well, okay, Alyssa had wanted to go with Christopher, but he’d turned her down. Melody couldn’t figure out why. Her sister had been beautiful, so sweet, and hilarious. Who wouldn’t love her?
“Forget him anyway,” Melody had said in the car ride on the way to prom, bumping her shoulder against Alyssa’s.
Alyssa’s smile, stained with fiery red lipstick, had lifted at the corners, but Melody caught the brief flicker of sadness in her eyes. “We’re going to have the best time tonight.” Alyssa was the optimist of the group with Liz being a second runner-up.
“You bet we are!” Liz called from the driver’s seat. “Everyone’s buckled up, right?”
“Yes, Mom,” Bri said sarcastically, sitting in the front passenger seat.
Liz sighed dramatically. “Is it really a crime for me to want us to make it to prom in one piece?”
“You sound like my dad.” Alyssa laughed quietly.
“You sound like my grandma,” Bri added, making them all laugh harder—even Liz.
“Okay, let’s make a bet,” Melody finally said. “We’re going stag, but I bet Bri is going to be the first one to hit the dance floor with a guy.”
“Nu-uh. My money is on Alyssa back there.” Bri glanced over her shoulder to look in the back seat. Bri looked beautiful tonight without a single dab of make-up on. It was a small miracle that Bri had even worn a dress. “The guys are going to go nuts when they see Alyssa walk in. She looks like a Hollywood actress.”
Bri wasn’t wrong. Alyssa was the most outwardly beautiful.
“Well, it definitely won’t be me.” Liz kept her eyes on the road and her hands at two and nine. She was a responsible driver—the only one of them to never have gotten a ticket. “I bet it’s Alyssa too,” Liz said. “She’s going to ditch us first.”
Alyssa shook her head. “I think you guys want me to ditch you. I’m Melody’s younger sister and I’m not supposed to be here. Three’s a charm and four is a crowd.”
Melody jabbed her elbow into Alyssa’s side again, harder this time. “You’re only one year younger. And you are supposed to be here. You’re one of us.”
“Agreed.” Liz looked away from the road momentarily to meet Melody’s gaze in the rearview.
“For sure,” Bri said. “Three’s a charm and four is the whole dang charm bracelet.”
Alyssa grinned, rubbing the spot where Melody had jabbed her with her elbow. “Well, I plan on dancing with you all tonight. No guys.”
“What if Christopher asks you to dance?” Melody asked in a teasing tone.
Alyssa’s cheeks flushed darker than the blush she’d put on for the occasion. “Doubtful?”
“Okay, new rule,” Bri said, taking hold of the conversation. “We all dance with each other, but we each get one exception.”
“What kind of exception?” Melody asked.
“Like, my grandparents are committed to one another, but they have some agreement that if they run into their favorite movie star, they get a free pass to . . . you know.”
“Your grandparents have a free pass agreement?” Liz asked in shock, her jaw dropping.
Bri shrugged. “They talk about it all the time. They don’t think I know what a free pass is.”
“You’re suggesting that we get a free pass dance?” Melody clarified. “Just a dance?”
Bri rolled her eyes. “None of us are getting laid tonight, okay?”
Melody gave a resolute nod. “Yeah, I like that idea. Okay, Alyssa’s free pass is obviously Christopher. Mine is Harmon.”
“Harmon Lambert?” Liz flicked her gaze to the rearview mirror again. “Really?”
Melody leaned forward in her seat to talk to Liz more easily. “Who’s yours?”
“I don’t have a crush on anyone.” Liz returned her eyes to the road. “But I’ll choose David Pierce as my free pass.”
Bri cackled. “You would choose him. He is destined to become a mall cop one day.”
“Nothing wrong with mall cops,” Alyssa said, happily. “Bri?”
Bri hummed thoughtfully. “I choose—”
Before Bri could answer, Liz gasped loudly as something darted into the road. Melody didn’t get a good look. Everything happened so fast. Liz yanked the steering wheel and swerved to avoid hitting the shadowed creature—a small deer maybe—as it darted toward the woods.
Alyssa’s body fell against Melody’s with the car’s quick movement. Why wasn’t Alyssa wearing a seatbelt? No doubt she didn’t want to wrinkle her dress.
As the car righted, Alyssa straightened to an upright position and let out a startled laugh. “Well, that was scary.”
Melody was about to chastise her sister for not wearing a seatbelt when Liz slammed the brakes, sending the tires screaming into the night. The car hit the roadside and then they were spinning. Or maybe it was Melody’s mind that was spinning. She pressed her eyes closed, momentarily reminded of that ride at the fair, the Gravitron. The one where you could barely open your eyes against the pressure inside the small enclosure. That’s how she felt in this moment. Her eyelids were heavy, as if little lead anchors were weighing them down.
When her lids finally lifted, she looked out the front windshield and saw a huge tree coming at them at fifty miles an hour. Time slowed. Melody sent up what she thought would be her final prayer.
Please don’t let us die. Please protect us.
The details of what happened next were filled in by the emergency services who showed up on the scene after the accident.
Alyssa was ejected. The air bag broke Liz’s nose. Melody banged the side of her head against the window. She had a concussion. Bri broke her spine in three places. Three days later, Melody and Liz were sitting somberly in the front row at Alyssa’s funeral while Bri lay in a hospital bed. She’d been devastated that she couldn’t go, but Melody thought maybe Bri was the lucky one. The funeral made it all real. Alyssa was gone—forever. She wasn’t coming back.
Melody’s father didn’t cry during the service. He didn’t comfort Melody either. He didn’t say a solitary word to her until hours later when they were leaving the burial ground. Then he leaned in and looked at her with lost eyes. “You were supposed to watch over her.”
Melody blinked past hot tears that stung her eyes. She was surprised she hadn’t run out of tears by now, but they kept coming; they wouldn’t stop. Had she heard her father correctly?
“This is your fault,”he said before standing more upright, turning, and walking back toward the black Town car that the funeral home had driven them in.
Melody hung back, speechless. Law enforcement had deemed what happened to be an unfortunate accident. Melody’s father, however, had found her guilty. He blamed her for the simple fact that she had lived.
At dinner that night, he’d reiterated that sentiment when he’d asked, “Why Alyssa? There were four of you in the car, but she was the one taken. Why her?” How could a father think, much less say, such a thing?
Melody set down her fork and retreated to her bedroom—the one she used to share with Alyssa. But Alyssa wasn’t coming back and, as Melody packed up her belongings that night, she promised herself that neither was she.
* * *
“I can’t sell this place as is,” Abigail Winslow said the following day, standing in the center of Hidden Treasures. The real estate agent kept her arms close to her sides as if she was afraid to touch anything.
Melody guessed that Abigail didn’t want to dirty her neatly pressed pantsuit. “I’m really sorry, Melody, but you have some work to do before anyone will want to buy Jo’s store,” she said in a thick New York accent. She was a city transplant who’d moved South and had settled on the isle for fresh air and a lower cost of living. “If I put it up now, you’d maybe get half of what it’s worth, and that might be months from now. Real estate on Seagull Street isn’t as coveted as it once was. Sandpiper Street is much hotter territory.”
“I see.” Melody felt a little sick. “I thought people liked a good fixer-upper.”
Abigail chuckled. “They like it because they can get it for a steal. If you’re looking for fair market value, like you said, then you need to clean this shop out. No one wants to buy a dusty old thrift store. Sorry to be so blunt,” she said with an exaggerated grimace.
“No, I want your honest opinion.” Melody wanted to get fair market value too. The money would help her during the tight months. It might even afford her a house, which was something she’d dreamt of owning for a while now. An apartment felt like a temporary dwelling. By this point in life, she’d always thought that she’d own her own place. She’d thought she’d be successful and married too. Instead, she was living in a one-bedroom apartment and she was so single that she couldn’t remember when she’d been on her last date. She wanted to finally put down roots in Charlotte. Maybe she’d create a dating profile online when she got back.
“My honest opinion is that you need to toss the junk and do a few renovations. You can hire someone to help if you need to.”
“I don’t have money to hire someone,” Melody countered.
Abigail looked sympathetic. “Then start watching HGTV, honey.” She shrugged. “We’ve completed most of the paperwork. I’ll come back when you’re ready, and I’ll sell it any way you want. I’m only advising you on what I think would be the best strategy.”
“Thank you.” Melody walked Abigail to the door. She knew what Abigail said was true. But clearing out this shop meant that she’d have to stay at least a couple weeks longer than planned, and she wasn’t sure she could agree to that. Her business partner, Julie, would definitely object. Maybe she should take whatever money she could get and run. But the possibility for more money was too tempting.
The bell over the door rang as Abigail walked out of the store which would be more appropriately named Hoarder’s Delight. Then Melody turned and headed to the glass case where she knew there was a notebook by the register. She loved organizing and making to-do lists, which was one reason she’d been drawn to event planning. She grabbed a pen from a nearby drawer and plopped down on the stool to plan her next steps.
For the next two hours, that’s exactly what she did. Then she left the store midafternoon to get ready for Jo’s Celebration of Life at Sunrise Park. As much as Melody loved her great-aunt, and missed her, no part of Melody wanted to attend this function. She’d barely seen anyone since returning to Trove Isle, which was how she preferred things. The entire town was likely to come out tonight to give Jo the send-off she deserved. Jo was beloved in Trove and for good reason. Melody doubted Jo had a single enemy here, and if she did, it was only because she spoke her truth unapologetically, which most folks respected.
Melody let herself into her dad’s house and headed down the hall toward her bedroom. Jo deserved a lot better than she’d gotten. At least from Melody. Melody stepped into her bedroom and lifted her suitcase up onto her bed. She unzipped it and stared into its depths.
She hadn’t packed anything appropriate for a funeral. Then again, this wasn’t going to be a funeral. What did one wear to a celebration of life on the banks of the intracoastal waterway? Melody wasn’t sure. One thing she was certain of was that people would be watching her tonight and whispering, looking for clues as to whether Melody was healthy and happy, on drugs, or whatever other story was circulating.
Melody lifted out a white top with a large, purple floral print from her suitcase. She pulled out a pair of black pants because, yes, she was mourning whether Jo liked it or not, and some fun black strappy sandals. There. Dress casual, appropriate for a barbeque or a celebration for the woman who’d meant a lot more to Melody than Melody had even realized. It was true, sometimes it took dying for people to appreciate you.
Melody stepped into the bathroom and freshened up, and then looked at the time on her cell phone’s screen. If she didn’t hurry, she’d be late. Then again, she was already too late to say goodbye.
She grabbed her keys and walked back out of the house, locking the door behind her. Her father wasn’t home, but maybe he was going straight to ceremony from work. Or perhaps he wasn’t attending at all. Melody wasn’t sure how close he’d been to Jo in these final years. Maybe not very. In the past, Jo’s very reason for visiting always seemed to revolve around Melody and Alyssa. With them gone, maybe Jo stopped coming over altogether.
Melody got into her car and hesitated behind the steering wheel for a moment before forcing herself to drive. She could do this. She could face the town she’d run away from so long ago. How hard could it be to put on a smile and pretend to be happy and successful, like her father apparently told everyone she was?
It was a short drive to Sunrise Park, which was conveniently located near the bridge if Melody decided to skip town when the night was over. She parked and watched as folks headed toward the isle’s waterfront. The sun was on its descent, blending into a mixture of bright pastels over the horizon. She didn’t recognize most of the faces that crossed in front of her windshield. And they weren’t noticing her while she sat there, breathing shallowly and entertaining fantasies of driving away. Perhaps she’d just stay on the outskirts of the crowd, watch from a distance, and leave without having to hold any conversations.
Yeah. Good idea.
With a plan in place, she swung open her car door and then winced as it hit a person with a heavy thud. “Oh! I am so sorry!” Melody jumped out of the car and onto her feet, apologizing profusely as she waited for the man to turn around and face her.
Tall. Black hair. Dark-rimmed glasses. She should have recognized him immediately, but right now her thoughts were scattered and she was concerned he might be injured. “Are you okay?”
“That might hurt tomorrow, but I know where you live so . . .” He trailed off.
Melody frowned. “You do?”
The man grinned. Where did she know him from? “Christopher?” she finally said. As in Christopher West, Alyssa’s boy-next-door crush. The boy who’d broken Alyssa’s heart.
A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. “Hey, Melody. I heard you were back in town. I saw the car in your dad’s driveway, and guessed this might be one of the rumors around here that’s actually true.”
“I’m just here temporarily. I inherited Hidden Treasures.”
“I heard that too. Congratulations.” Chris’s face blanched with the realization of what he’d just said. “And my deepest condolences.”
“Thanks.” Her first inclination was to be polite to this man who’d been little more than a kid the last time she’d seen him. Her second inclination was to snub him the same way he’d done Alyssa when she’d asked him to prom. Alyssa’s tear-stricken face flashed in Melody’s mind. Her sister had deserved so much better in life.
Melody looked over at the crowd forming on the waterfront. She didn’t want to make small talk with this man, but he was still standing in front of her, an expectant look on his face. “So, if you saw my car, I’m guessing that means your parents still live next door?” Melody asked.
“Just my mom.” His gaze flicked down for just a moment. “My dad passed away last year.”
Melody’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. “I’m so sorry,” she said for the second time in five minutes. And suddenly she felt guilty for feeling bitter towards him.
“It’s okay. You didn’t know. How would you?”
Burn.Maybe she should leave before she got any more comments like that. They were sure to come once she was out there, mingling among folks with questions and made-up answers of their own.
“I didn’t intend any insult by that, by the way,” Christopher said. “I just meant, we were never close. You wouldn’t even give me the time of day, if I remember correctly.”
“You hung out with my sister until she started liking you more than a friend. Then, if I remember correctly, you wouldn’t give her the time of day,” Melody said.
Christopher offered a pained expression. “I just didn’t want to lead her on. Alyssa was an amazing person.”
“Speaking to the choir,” Melody said, determined not to like this guy, even though he’d always been likeable.
Christopher glanced over at the crowd by the water. “C’mon. I’m sure a lot of folks here can’t wait to catch up with you.”
He didn’t give her a chance to slink back into her car like she wanted to. Instead, he reached behind him, pushed her car door closed, and gestured for her to follow him, leading the way to where someone was passing out candles up ahead. Everyone seemed to have one.
Melody kept her head down, her hand absently fidgeting with the charm bracelet on her wrist as she followed the uneven ground toward the small crowd, her heart pitter-pattering like a heavy-footed toddler having a tantrum in her chest.
“Melody!” Mr. Lyme turned toward the two of them as they approached and handed them both a candle. Then he pulled a lighter stick out of his blue blazer, the same one he’d worn when he’d met Melody at Hidden Treasures earlier in the week, and flicked a flame atop each. “I’m so glad you made it,” he told her with a wide smile. “Jo really wanted you here. She mentioned you often.”
Melody wished that Jo had reached out to her more recently, but Melody probably wouldn’t have answered the phone anyway. In an attempt to truncate her gushing emotions, she’d left Trove Isle behind, shutting everyone out. Even Jo.
Mr. Lyme’s eyes were shiny as he looked between them. He fanned a hand in front of his eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s going to be an emotional night for me, isn’t it?”
“We’re all here for you.” Christopher patted a hand along the older man’s back. “My mom sends her love. She wishes she could be here.”
Mr. Lyme nodded solemnly. “I know, I know.” He released an audible breath. “I guess I need to mingle. Thanks for coming tonight. I’m sure Jo is smiling down on us.”
“I’m sure she is,” Christopher agreed.
As Mr. Lyme walked away, Melody turned and asked, “Why can’t your mom be here? Is she okay?”
Christopher kept his gaze forward. “She’s homebound these days,” he said, matter-of-factly. “If you plan on spending any time at your dad’s, you’ll see a lot of me over there. I check on my mom daily. Complete her to-do lists, bring her groceries, stuff like that.”
“Wow.” Melody wanted to hold a grudge against this guy, but he was making it hard to have a single negative thought about him. She was about to ask more questions, but several people walked up. Christopher seemed to take on the role of her buffer, reintroducing her to the town while keeping her from standing alone awkwardly and stopping her from running.
“You remember Danette?” Christopher asked as an old woman with white curls grabbed Melody’s hand.
Melody nodded, recalling the onetime school librarian. Why were the older woman’s hands so cold?
“I own a bookshop now,” Danette said proudly. “The Book Whore. It’s right down from your thrift store. People can buy a book from me and I’ll send them for a treasure from you. We’ll be pals,” she said conspiratorially.
The Book Whore?Melody wasn’t sure she’d heard the store’s name correctly. Surely this older woman wasn’t referring to herself in such a derogatory manner. Unsure of how to respond, Melody glanced over and caught Christopher’s amused gaze.
He turned his attention to Danette. “I need a book for my mom, Danny. How about I stop in next week?”
Danette’s eyes lit up. “Perfect! What does Gina like these days?”
“She likes murder mysteries,” he said. “Nothing too bloody.”
“Of course. I’ll prepare a stack for you to choose from.” The bookstore owner seemed wobbly and unsafe with her candle, especially when she got excited.
Christopher leaned in to give Danette a side hug and, if Melody wasn’t mistaken, he blew out Danette’s candle on purpose.
“Oh, no!” Danette’s expression crumpled in disappointment.
“I’m sorry, Danny. My fault,” he said, swiping his gaze at Melody.
Danette pointed a finger in his direction. “Yes, it was, and I’m not senile. I know you blew my candle out on purpose, you stinker. Which is good because I sneezed and nearly lit my hair on fire earlier.” She grinned up at him. “I just didn’t want to be disrespectful to Jo by having an unlit candle.”
“I think Jo would understand, Danny.” Christopher kept what Melody considered to be an impressively serious face. She was having a harder time doing that.
Danette reached for Melody’s hand again. “Jo talked about you all the time, dear. I’m so glad you’re home.”
Melody held her tongue, and her heart, and the flickering candle in her opposite hand. She turned to look for more people she knew, spotting her father standing stiffly by a large cypress tree. He was wearing a suit and shifting his candle back and forth between his hands. Where was Liz? She had said she was coming tonight, and Melody had really hoped to get another chance to talk.
“Looking for Liz?” Christopher leaned in to ask.
Melody turned to look at him. “Are you a mind reader or something?”
“A high school history teacher actually.”
Melody found this interesting. So, the boy next door was still a bit of a nerd, albeit a frustratingly handsome one. “Liz said she would be here, and the celebration is about to start.”
Christopher glanced around too. “Her younger sister Rose usually has to drive her. And sixteen-year-olds aren’t the most punctual or responsible. Especially Liz’s sister.”
“Why does Rose have to drive her?” Melody asked.
Christopher furrowed a brow behind his dark-rimmed glasses. “You really haven’t been back in a while, huh? Liz doesn’t drive. She quit after the, uh . . .”
Melody swallowed and looked down, suddenly understanding. “I see.”
“So, she’s probably running a bit late.” Christopher gave a small chuckle. “And she’s probably not happy about it. I can fix this.” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket, using one hand to bring up his contacts.
“Who are you calling?”
“Matt Coffey lives down the street from Liz. He’s not here either. Maybe he can swing by and pick her up. Liz wouldn’t want to miss this. She thought the world of Jo.” Matt must have answered because Christopher grinned. “Hey, bud. Are you home? . . . Oh, that’s great. Do you think you can pick up Liz? She’s not here yet, so I’m guessing she must be waiting on Rose . . . Yeah . . . Yeah. Okay. See you in a few.” He tapped his screen and shoved his phone into his back pocket. “Matt is on the case.”
“Great,” Melody said.
Christopher held out his open palm. “Can I see your phone?”
Melody felt her lips part. “Hmm? My phone?” She pulled it out of her pocket, but hesitated to hand it over. “Why?”
He wriggled his fingers. “Unlock it first.”
“You’re asking a lot from someone who barely knows you.” And someone who was carrying a grudge from years ago.
Christopher tilted his head, his eyes subtly squinting. “You know me well enough to know I’m not going to steal from you.”
That was true. She didn’t have to like him to admit he didn’t seem like a criminal. Unlocking her phone, she placed it in his palm, her fingers brushing against his skin accidentally. An electrical current zipped through her fingertips, traveling up her arm and into her chest. “What are you doing?”
He tapped along her screen with a quick hand. “I’m adding myself to your contacts. Just in case you need something while you’re back on the isle. A friend, a ride, a burger.”
Melody blinked. “Oh. Thanks.”
He handed her phone back to her. “Don’t hesitate to call or text for anything. I mean it. Your dad has helped my mom a lot over the years, especially after my dad passed away. I want to return the favor. I’m here for whatever you need.”
She swallowed thickly. That was a really nice offer from someone who, as she mentioned earlier, barely knew her anymore.
Christopher started to step away. “Okay. I’ll just go tell Mr. Lyme to wait on Liz.”
Melody grabbed his arm. “Wait. You’re leaving me?” She felt a sudden surge of panic. Grudge or not, he was her buffer. She didn’t want to brave this crowd on her own.
“Don’t worry. You won’t be alone out here. I’m sure everyone is eager to speak to you tonight,” he said as he continued forward, leaving Melody standing by herself. But not for long, which was exactly what she was afraid of.
To: Bri Johnson
From: Liz Dawson
Subject: I hate it when you’re right
Bri,
Read the subject line because I’m only saying this once so that your head doesn’t get too big. Melody does look like she could use a friend. I’m not sure I can go as far as being that to her, but I can be friendly, at least.
Tonight is Jo’s Celebration of Life. I wish you could come. It seems wrong that you can’t be here. She was like family to us all.
Remember her True Love’s Pretzel Knot? Eat it with the one who has caught your eye and you’ll catch that person’s heart? I wonder if she used that recipe on Mr. Lyme. That man is still so smitten with her. It’s adorable. Anyway, Jo confided the secret ingredient with me and that makes me feel like family. The way she always sent me a special card on my birthday did too. Jo was special, and I think my heart will always ache a little now that she’s gone.
When you come home, we’ll have to make butterscotch tea in her memory.
Anyway, thank you for your advice. Read the subject line again.
xx,
Liz