24. Meeting the Family
Meeting the Family
Melody
Greg came home and told me he wanted to take me out to dinner. There was only one place to eat in town, and with flash flood warnings all over, I didn’t want to go far. But a date sounded fun.
I hadn’t eaten out in a while. It was cheaper and more responsible to eat at home, after all. But I was getting used to letting someone else take the lead. To indulge just a little.
Driving felt like the right choice when I saw the sandbags lining the banks of Mourningkill Creek. The water gushed white, crawling up the embankment.
I didn’t worry about floods, though. I lived on the mountain just up the country road, so if it were to ever flood at my house, it was time to build an ark.
But the town itself was situated at the low point of the valley.
Great for farmers and irrigation, but dangerous when it rained.
The drains and sewage were always a bit unpredictable when the water from the mountains slushed into town.
Despite the inch of water on the road, Greg’s SUV handled so well, it barely registered.
The windshield whacked loudly back and forth, the rain on the roof drowning out the easy listening on the radio. He held my hand on the center console throughout the drive, and when we parked in The Bar’s parking lot, he pulled off his jacket before coming around to my side of the car.
I knew better than to open my own door.
When the door opened, the sound of thunder and rain flooded into the cab, and I squealed.
His jacket was up over his head as he beckoned me to join.
His arm was raised high, holding his jacket above us to keep me dry, and I giggled—giggled!
—because I had a man, and he was chivalrous, and he was so kind.
And for the first time ever, I was cherished.
We scampered, laughing into the restaurant-bar as he nodded at Ellen, the owner, while shaking out his jacket and hanging it on a hook. When he took my hand, more than a few eyes turned our way, their gazes following us as he walked me to a big booth in the front corner.
“Are we expecting anyone else?” I asked.
He motioned for me to take a seat. “I, uh…My friends are coming.”
I settled onto the plush leather, waiting for a longer explanation.
“You’ve already met them.” He sat beside me, taking my hand and placing it on his thigh. “But…I wanted to introduce you as…as my…”
“As your girlfriend,” I teased, bumping his shoulder.
He bit his lower lip, hiding a smile. Then he leaned in, hooking his index finger under my chin to turn my face to him, and kissed me gently. The kind that barely parted our lips. Like we’d kissed over and over, a hundred times.
“I told you, you’re not a girl-anything.” He nipped at my lip, and I giggled once more.
Greg wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me into him, and I noticed the gazes again. At the counter was Riley Lyons in his fireman uniform, grabbing something to go. Despite his rain jacket and boots, he looked soaked to the bone.
“Thanks El,” he said to Ellen as she handed him a heaping big stack of to-go food.
“You and your boys stay safe out there,” she replied.
He tried to hand her a card, but she waved him off. “On the house.”
When he thanked her, Greg called out, “Captain Riley, y’all need help?”
“Not yet, Vedder!” He lifted the food in his arms in a motion that resembled a salute. “You know you’re my first call when we need it.”
As Greg opened the front door for Riley, they exchanged some words and laughed before doing that manly head-nod-thing and grunting in farewell.
How long had Greg been here? Almost two years? That was still new compared to the generations most people had to this town.
In that time, he’d endeared himself to almost everyone. To Riley, Captain of the Fire Station, and to Ellen, whom he’d helped rebuild the back porch. To the guys at the hardware store, and of course, to all the women who now stared daggers at me as he returned to my side.
He’d done in two years what I hadn’t in two decades. He had the approval of the small town I’d grown up in.
“You know.” I turned until our knees touched. “Being with me…it’s not going to win you any points in town. I’m not…I’m not exactly liked out here.”
He’d done the right thing by me so far, so I wanted to do the same for him.
“Well, thank god I’m only trying to win points with you.” He kissed me on the temple, apparently oblivious to the fact that we had an audience.
“What I’m saying is I come with a lot of baggage. I wouldn’t…” I sighed. “I wouldn’t blame you if you changed your mind.”
“Baggage?” He scoffed. “That’s not a nice way to talk about your brother.”
I snickered.
He nudged his nose on mine. “Thatagirl.”
“What?” I asked.
“You’re smiling. I like it.” He linked our arms at the elbows as Ellen walked over, her little notepad in hand. “And to hell what anyone else thinks. It’s just you and me.”
“You waiting for someone else?” Ellen was the same age as Riley, but they looked a decade apart. She was a rough woman; a little bitter, a little mean, but she was a competent businesswoman. While some stores downtown closed their shutters, she always stayed open and profitable.
But like most people, she didn’t care for me.
Rumors flew fast, and opinions were contagious. When one person hated you, you could be pretty sure the entire town did too. No one questioned it.
Ellen glanced from Greg to me, then cleared her throat disapprovingly. I removed my elbow from his, but he took my hand and flattened it on his thigh, interlacing his fingers with mine until I relaxed.
I liked it when he did that. I liked the little routine things he did with me. It was comforting.
“I’m waiting for my usual group,” he said.
“Is that right?” Ellen asked, giving me a dirty look. Like I didn’t belong here with him and his friends. I bristled and reminded myself that I was a patricidal murderer, so…maybe she had a point?
Everyone liked Greg, and so everyone liked Greg’s friends, too.
I didn’t think that would rub off on me.
Ellen walked away, completely uninterested in us.
“That’s right,” Greg said as he stiffened, putting his arm around my shoulders and pulling me into his chest as if he could protect me from her glares. He’d waste a lot of time and energy if he wanted to do that… “Is there a problem?”
“Nope. No problem.” She was speaking to him, but she looked at me. I was pretty sure she’d be spitting in my food.
“I wanted you to get to know my friends.” He whispered into my ear, and I couldn’t help but smile again. “They’re nosy as fuck, so I just wanted us to be official.”
I wanted that, too.
“Those people across the way are looking at you real hard. Looks personal. There some town gossip I should know about? Did you reject some of those guys or something?” He nodded towards the jukebox.
I looked and sighed.
Ian Gray and Jon-Williams Gray, and their little friend Roy, were huddled together with toothpicks in their mouths as they did their best impression of The Fonz. Too cool for school.
It meant the daddy Gray, Turner, was probably somewhere around here, too. I wasn’t worried they’d talk to me; they never acknowledged me even before there was a weird inheritance and questionable death looming over our heads. They wouldn’t be seen associating with me in public.
It would tarnish their shining reputation.
“They’re my stepcousins, I guess. My stepfather’s nephews and cousins once or twice removed. I don’t know.”
“Hmm.” His chest rumbled on my shoulder, and the purr of it went through me, soothing me as I melted further into him. “I’m sure Uncle Turner isn’t far away.”
The door opened, and Greg sat up straighter.
In came a leather-clad woman in tight jeans with muscular thighs and straight, midnight-black hair falling down to her breast. Trinity Guerro. I’d known her for a while—since she moved in, actually.
Behind her was her black-haired husband, sporting almond-shaped eyes on a severe face. Griff, maybe? Then a blonde woman with a sweet, heart-shaped face and red lips entered in stilettos and red leather pants. The Ukrainian, Daria.
The eyes that shot daggers at me turned into open-mouthed gawps at the cosmopolitan outsiders whose showstopping entrance felt like a fresh breeze after a sweltering summer.
“Hello, handsome.” Daria was the first to speak, greeting Greg before turning to me. “We have not officially met, I don’t think. I’m Daria Savchenko.” She held out her hand, and I shook it. “And you’re the reason his truck is currently on cinderblocks in the barn, no?”
I blushed, feeling my cheeks heat.
That had been a frightening day. It almost felt unreal.
She scooted into the circular booth until she was on Greg’s other side.
“Hey asshole,” Trinity said, sliding into the seats until she was by Daria. Her husband followed.
“I’m Kai.” The man held his hand out to me, and Greg stiffened. “We haven’t been formally introduced, so here we are. Formal.”
“You haven’t?” Trinity said. “My trailer was on her property back when I was in the camper van.”
“Right.” Kai nodded like he remembered, but I had a feeling he had no idea. “I forgot about that. Didn’t connect the two things in my head.”
“Yeah, people tend to get intertwined a lot in Mourningkill.”
He was the reason I had lost out on rent money. Sure, it was just a plot of dirt that had been mowed on the other side of what would have been an old run for the horses we did not have, but Trinity had been a great tenant, and the money had helped a lot.
“This is Melody,” Greg said, looking right at me. “She’s the woman I’m gonna marry.”
The table froze. Everyone went silent. The entire room seemed to quiet down, too. Like every person was leaning in to hear what I would say.
I blinked. His friends stared at me so hard my cheeks turned beet red.
“Drink?” Ellen suddenly appeared. “This is everyone?”
“Yeah,” Kai snapped a little too hard, as if he’d just been shocked out of a daze. “Mack and Mamma are making sure everything’s flood proofed. He was frantically checking the sump pumps when we left.”