Nineteen

 

 

“HI,” SHE SAID. “Are you really here?”

Ashen smudges shadowed the space beneath her eyes. Guilt nagged him for being the cause of her distress or lack of sleep. Braden stepped further into the shop, hardening his resolve to say goodbye on good terms. His friend and lieutenant, Zion Weatherton, lingered near the doorway of Melanie’s workshop.

“Melanie, this is Zion. We work together. He gave me a ride to see you before I have to head to the airport.”

“Airport?” She laid down the oil-soaked cloth she’d been using on the footboard of a bed frame.

“Yes. I have to leave town for work. I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

“Or if you’re coming back,” she said.

Braden saw the slight lift of her chin. He noticed her throat move as she swallowed before looking away. She met his gaze a second later. This wasn’t what he came here for. He’d hurt her in ways he didn’t understand, and now wasn’t the time to talk about it.

Zion walked over and shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“You, too,” Melanie said.

“Is this all your work?” Zion asked as he glanced around the workshop and the furniture in various states of refinishing.

“It is. Pardon the mess,” she said with a warm smile.

Zion said, “My wife appreciates handcrafted one-of-a-kind pieces of art. I do as well. Do you have an online store I can tell her about?”

“I do. She can also look at pictures on my Facebook page.”

“I’ll tell her,” Zion said.

“Would you mind giving us a second alone?” Braden asked.

“I’ll be outside,” his boss said. Zion gave a courteous nod. “You have a nice day,” he said to Melanie and disappeared out the shop door.

They didn’t speak until Zion was out of sight. Braden ran his hand over the freshly sanded and smooth bed frame. “This is nice. It’s different. Woodsy. What is it made of?”

“It’s aspen. I’ve never worked with it before, but I love it.”

“Are you going to keep it?”

“No. Not unless it doesn’t sell. I can’t keep everything I love.” Melanie stared at the aspen bed frame. “That didn’t come out right. I meant to say, if I keep all my favorite pieces I would need a much larger house, or three houses. They have to go to new homes. People who want my work appreciate the details and the repurposing of something old made new and beautiful again. I like that. And I’m happy when my customers are happy.”

She wouldn’t look Braden in the eye. Her emotional shield was so obvious it made his chest ache with sorrow. They shared one of the best nights of his life and now she treated him like a casual acquaintance. He and Melanie only promised each other a renewed friendship this summer. They had done just that. Only Braden’s feelings went much deeper than casual friendship.

Weeks earlier, the day he’d been repairing Tweeny’s holes under the fence, Melanie smiled and the light in her eyes brightened with recognition of finding him again. That was the exact moment his world felt whole. Now, as he stood in the workshop, with Melanie only inches away, the gap between them couldn’t have been larger. She wanted independence and time to herself after her divorce, and he respected that, but he didn’t want to lose her again. And with his current situation of living under witness protection, he was equally to blame as he stood on the opposite side of this invisible, uninvited chasm.

He kept talking with the hope that they could close the chasm even for a minute. “If you love something, and you know it’s unique and you may never see anything like it again, keeping it may not be the worst decision.”

“I suppose. It’s just that once I bend my rules for one thing, then I’m going to be tempted to do it again with the next irresistible table or dresser. Pretty soon I’ll be on one of the hoarding shows on television and seeing a professional counselor to dissect my childhood in comparison to how I can’t let go of anything. There will obviously be thirty cats involved and I can’t be responsible for that kind of animal abuse. Tweeny’s well-being is already questionable.”

“Uh-huh,” Braden said, grinned, and took her hand in his. He appreciated her dry sense of humor and it made him smile every time. “I’m going to miss your dog. I kind of understand Romany better now.”

“I’m sure she’ll miss you, too.”

Braden took her other hand and moved in close so they stood toe to toe. “I’ll miss you more, Mel. Can I call you?”

“Will you be able to? Your secret identity may be compromised again, Clark Kent.”

“I’m not Clark, and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to call. Just answer if you don’t recognize the number. I had to switch phone numbers again.”

Melanie peered up at him and didn’t speak.

“I hate this,” he said. “I tried to call over the last couple of days. Why haven’t you been answering? Are you angry with me?”

“I’m not angry. I left my phone here on accident while I was at Emmeline’s house. The FBI thought it would be best for me to leave the house for a few days. I came back last night. I can’t give up my home and my life for fear of the unknown. No one will give me any real answers. I’m not going to live in fear, Braden. This is my home and where I choose to be.”

“I would do the same thing. But you have to stay safe.”

“I am. I already have a new security system and the local police are patrolling our street at least a couple times a day.”

“Good. The Granite Lake police chief told me the same thing when I asked.” He released her hands and wrapped her in his arms. “I never thought I’d find you again, let alone find you and have to leave.”

Braden waited as she took a deep breath. She pulled back and lifted her face. Her eyelids rose slowly. He watched the steely resolve in their blue depths. “I’m good, Braden. It’s been an incredibly eye-opening summer. And I’ve had more fun than I can ever remember having. Thank you.” She touched his cheek then lowered her hand to his chest.

Christ, this felt like goodbye, not a see you soon. He bent down and kissed her before she said anything else that would shatter him. If a kiss could promise a perfect, secure future together, that’s what he would give her, but instead their kiss was passionate yet bittersweet. Until the trial was over, and until he knew where his future was headed, he couldn’t promise her anything. She made no promises to him either. Could he live with a long-distance friendship?

“I don’t think my part in this upcoming trial will last longer than a few weeks, but there’s a good chance I’ll be assigned to a department in Florida afterward. Zion told me they need someone there. Florida’s far from California.”

“What are you saying exactly?” she asked.

“I don’t want this to be goodbye. I want to keep seeing you.”

Melanie held his hands but stepped out of his arms. “I like seeing you, too.” Melanie turned her head and stared at the headboard. “But maybe this is a mistake and old flames should never reignite.”

“My fire for you has never died.”

“I don’t know how to trust this, Braden.”

“Are you referring to my work situation? Or do you mean me and you?”

“All of it?” she said as a question. “You’re really invested in your job and it has a direct effect on your life outside of work. When you don’t tell me the why of things, like why you have a bodyguard with you, what am I supposed to think?”

“That’s fair. But Zion’s not my bodyguard. I promised to tell you everything once I’m able to, and I will. This is new to me as well. I made a mistake coming to someplace from my past. I was warned not to and I didn’t listen. I didn’t think they would find me here. I could have gotten you killed. I have to live with that, but what I don’t have to live with is any miscommunication between us.” Braden squeezed her hands. She turned her face and he held her gaze. “You’re blowin’ my mind, Mel. Look around you. Do you trust what you see before your eyes?”

“That’s not the same.”

“Do you think the tables are a figment of your imagination? You worked your fingers raw on them. They’re real. I’m real. I’m right here. Whether I’m in California or Florida, it doesn’t change the fact that I only want to be with you.”

“I’ll always be your friend, and I’ll be right here. I’m sorry. I don’t have any experience with this. And if you’re going to Florida, when will I see you?”

“I’ll make it a point to see you as often as I can,” he said.

“I think I can only promise to remain your friend. We had a good summer, right?”

“Yeah, we did.”

She shrugged. “Then let’s call it for what it is. You have a life to attend to and so do I. You’ve been an amazing friend and if you want to call me or stop by when you’re available, you’re welcome here as my friend. But I’m a mom and I won’t do anything that could harm Sienna. You have to understand that her safety comes before mine.”

“Okay, Melanie. We’ll do it your way. I don’t want to hurt either of you.” Braden kissed her briefly then held her in his arms. This wasn’t goodbye, he promised himself. “I’ll let you know my new number and where I’m at as soon as I can.”

 

* * *

 

Melanie swam to the middle of Granite Lake as if she were being chased by monsters. She dove straight down to the depths of the lake until the pressure made her ears ache and her lungs cry for oxygen. She pushed her levels of endurance and kicked for the surface. She met the sky and gulped the summer air. As she treaded the water, the sun warmed her face and she closed her eyes. The shape of Braden’s face with his defined cheekbones and intense eyes below sculpted brows wavered then came into view in her mind’s eye. Her focus moved to the shape of his jaw and the full lips. The image lingered for a long moment. Then the agony of remembering what those lips felt like as they touched hers came back like a slap.

She opened her eyes and swam back to shore. The exercise, the repetitive strokes and kicks, took her mind off Braden. She pushed herself to keep going and keep her mind clear of anything other than the water, her muscles, heart rate, and the next breath.

Swimming kept her busy when she wasn’t in the workshop or at the rec center. All the distractions helped ease the absence of Braden, no longer living next door.

After showering, Melanie checked her phone and saw an email message waiting for her. It was Braden. Or she assumed it was him. The email address was from J. Murphy.

She’d only talked to him once since he walked out of her garage. The conversation had been shallow, if she were to describe the feeling she had after they hung up. He told her he was living near Sacramento and had round-the-clock security. He would be testifying that week and hoped to be released from his part in the trial sooner than he originally anticipated. Braden apologized for not contacting her earlier, but didn’t explain why he’d been silent for nearly two weeks.

The email was a link to a news article. His message read: In the news this week. - B.

Melanie opened the webpage and read about the De La Costa Norte cartel leader, Manuel De La Costa, on trial for smuggling both marijuana and heroin over the border between the U.S. and Mexico. The De La Costa cartel was reportedly responsible for the annual distribution of an estimated four hundred tons of illegal marijuana. The extent of the cartel’s involvement in California, Nevada, Oregon, and Washington’s heroin problem would not be released at this time. The cartel had been under investigation for the past decade, and thanks in large part to the California Department of Fish and Wildlife and their specialized team of investigators, the cartel leader had been detained and charged. The trial wasn’t over but the federal prosecutors were optimistic for a guilty verdict.

Melanie read the article twice, closed the link, and set her phone down. Letting the information sink in was about as pleasant as digesting a bowling ball. Finally being enlightened to Braden’s situation brought some relief. Her mind pieced together the few clues he’d given her with the information in the article, and a clearer picture formed in her mind. She’d never heard of the De La Costa drug cartel, but she could understand the severity and level of danger Braden had been in and why he had spent months hiding from them. His life was at risk. Her and Sienna’s safety was now involved. Melanie’s gaze slid to the front door. She shook herself before creeping paranoia took hold of her better sense. Her door was locked and armed with the new security system. She’d be fine. The investigators didn’t know if the gang members who attacked Braden and set fire to his house knew he’d been next door at the time. But better safe than sorry, and if the gang members had been scoping out the house ahead of time, it was likely they’d seen the two of them together.

Melanie’s thoughts were interrupted as Tweeny burst through the dog door, ran to her bed, and flopped down to chew whatever it was she so proudly brought inside. The security system alerted her by announcing “dog door,” as if Melanie couldn’t figure it out on her own. The high-tech device was going to take her some time to get used to. Melanie eyed her dog with suspicion before it dawned on her that Tweeny’s latest prize looked like something dead. She sprang out of the chair and squinted at the eight-inch-long red and white bone Tweeny was gnawing on.

“No. Eww...” she said. “What is that?” Melanie bent down to inspect the mess before attempting to take it away from the happy pup. “A rib bone? Where in the world did you get that?” Fortunately, it appeared to be a rib bone you would buy from the grocery store, not a bone, say, from road kill. Melanie yanked the treasure away from Tweeny with one swift move and held it out of reach. Tweeny jumped up, trying to take it back. She barked in protest as Melanie walked over to the kitchen trashcan. Unable to help herself, she glanced outside through the sliding glass door at the house next door. Tweeny brought home treats on more than one occasion from Braden. She stumbled and caught herself when she bumped into the kitchen island. Braden stood on the deck next door concentrating on the barbecue grill.

Melanie backed up and stared harder. It wasn’t Braden who stood there opening the stainless steel lid on the grill, but Justin. She sighed, grabbed her pocketbook, and headed to the neighbor’s house.

“Well, now. I see the thief has returned the stolen goods,” Justin said as she approached the deck. “Or should I say the thief’s lackey.” He closed the lid on the smoking grill and smiled wide.

“Some days, like today, I feel exactly like her maidservant.” Tweeny remained attached to Melanie’s heels and continued to jump and snap at the air trying to get her bone back. “I’m sorry about your lunch.” Melanie held up the stolen rib and realized that she brought it back as if to return the dirty, slobber-covered, ruined meat. “I’d like to pay for it.”

Justin stepped off the deck and swaggered over. “You don’t owe me anything. I gave it to her. Braden warned me about Tweeny’s appetite. We’re all set.” He pushed a hand through his incredibly shiny, thick hair, the same hair Braden would have had if he grew it out, and gave her a lopsided grin.

Melanie didn’t gawk, but if there ever was an appropriate time for it, it would have been now. Justin was Braden’s identical twin, but he had a rogue sex appeal and a quality of slime Braden lacked. The more seconds that passed, the more she noticed every small difference between them until she was certain they didn’t actually look alike at all. Justin’s nose had a crook in the center of the bridge and she wondered how many times it had been broken.

“You going to stand there holding my raw meat all day or give it to the dog?” he asked.

Melanie was suddenly aware of her stance in the yard, hand held up at an unnatural angle, while Tweeny stood on her hind legs, neck outstretched and licking the air below the confiscated bone. She tossed the bone into the grass a few yards away and returned her attention to Justin, sans the stupid look on her face.

“I’m Melanie Jamison. It’s nice to finally meet you.” She raised her hand then took it back considering there was dog spit and raw beef on her fingers. She held her pocketbook in her other hand. “Sorry. I—” She didn’t finish but looked at her hand with distaste.

Justin cocked his head to the side. “The girl my brother lost his mind over. We met in your driveway when I first bought the house.”

“Right,” Melanie said, remembering the unfortunate run-in that had her so kerfuffled. “Pardon me, but what do you mean about Braden losing his mind?” she asked.

“Braden went crazy after I got him arrested. He tracked me down, broke my nose, swore he’d never forgive me, and it was because of you. Mostly. He kept insisting I ruined his life. I didn’t, by the way. But I always wondered who the girl was that he never could get over, and here you are.”

“He got over me,” Melanie defended. “He’s had a full life.”

“No wife, though. I doubt he’s ever had a serious girlfriend either. But enough about my brother. Want to join me and my crew for lunch? We could use a pretty lady in our company. The riff-raff I hire behave themselves a might better when a woman’s around.”

Melanie glanced at the driveway and just now noticed the extra pickup trucks parked near the roll-off dumpster. “No, thank you. I need to go home and take care of some things,” she said lamely. “Alana’s not with you?” she asked.

“She stayed in Georgia. Didn’t care to come back to a house with smoke damage and all that dirty business.”

She heard male voices from inside the house and then a bearded man wearing jeans, T-shirt, and work boots stepped out onto the deck. “How’s the grill coming along, boss?”

“Check it for me, would you?” Justin said over his shoulder. He refocused on Melanie. “That’s too bad you’re busy, but maybe next time.”

“Umm, maybe.” She started to retreat.

“Thanks for saving my house. Braden told me you were quick to get the fire department here. I owe you a nice dinner out any time you want to hit me up. The fire damage wasn’t bad, but the insurance money is going to cover the costs for the entire addition I was already planning to add to this old place.”

“It was nothing. And Tweeny is the one who saved the day.”

“More reason to keep feeding her free ribs and hot dogs,” Justin said.

Melanie gave him a tight smile. “Glad it all worked out.”

“Sure did. Call my brother, would you? He’s been in a hell of a mood.”

She nodded and turned away before Justin could see how his last remark had an effect on her.

 

* * *

 

When Melanie returned to the house, she didn’t call Braden. What was stopping her? Sheer stubbornness? A desire to torture herself? No. The answers went deeper than that. Instead of facing the reality of her inner-most truth, she laced up her boots and headed into the workshop. The benches and hostess stand for Black Bear Brewing needed touching up before she would call Bodie Everett and schedule a time to meet with him and his brothers to come take a look at what she’d done. If they liked the pieces, she agreed to store them until the new brewery was ready for furnishing. In the meantime, she wanted to use pieces of the old wood siding from Floyd’s Tavern for rustic shelves and picture frames. The Everett brothers told her she could have all the old wood from the biker bar turned brew pub that she wanted. Melanie had hauled a sizable stack of aged lumber home to her shop and had a list of projects in the back of her mind for what to do with the reclaimed wood. First off was to make a decorative gift for the Everett brothers’ new brewery. Their generosity in supporting her business and giving her free materials to work with wouldn’t go unappreciated.

The next two days off from coaching at the rec center were a non-stop blur of measuring, sawing, nailing, and painting. The non-stop work of creating practical art kept her mind off Braden. The limited number of days until Sienna’s return became a countdown that urged her to produce more. When she had four wall shelves, a standing three row shelf, and half a dozen picture frames complete, she stopped, took a step back and realized that she may never sell any of her latest creations. That gave her pause, but luck was on her side. Instead of letting the seeds of self-doubt grow, she noticed a waiting phone message. Lieutenant Zion Weatherton’s wife, Kellie, wanted to stop by to see the bed frame and her other pieces of furniture. Melanie returned the call and Kellie scheduled an appointment to come look as soon as possible.

Kellie bought and paid for the bed, matching night stands, and two of the new wall shelves made of the reclaimed wood from Floyd’s Tavern. It was Melanie’s single largest paycheck ever. She didn’t even have to deliver the pieces. Zion loaded everything into his pickup truck and the couple couldn’t have been happier.

High on success, and more than a little burnt out by her non-stop push, Melanie decided she had earned a night off. No more swimming until she collapsed in bed and no more driving herself past her limits in the workshop.

The cracking of her facade began with a bottle of beer. One bottle, not six. Melanie opened her refrigerator to find something for dinner and instead found a single bottle of apricot ale left over from Braden’s birthday. Did he stash the beer in her fridge for her? Was it simply forgotten? She wanted a salad and maybe a mixed berry smoothie, but instead she found bubbly apricot ale. As if the memory of their night together wasn’t excruciating enough, she popped off the cap and took a hardy swill. The taste came back to her with all the other precious remembrances she’d so carefully stored in her memory bank. His soft yet firm lips seeking her own, possessing her body, and turning her mind to mush. The smell of him washed over her with hints of cedar and summer heat. Her head must be playing tricks on her.

Melanie set the bottle on the counter and turned away from the kitchen. Tweeny raised her head, whimpered, and lay her head back on the dog bed. Melanie shuffled to the couch and sank onto the cushions, overwhelmed with emotions. Braden was gone and she’d done nothing to stop him from leaving.

The next few days passed in a shroud of darkness. Melanie called in sick to work, something she couldn’t ever remember doing before. Used tissues lay scattered around the living room, on the floor, the side table, and all over the couch. She’d planted herself there and binged watched every movie she could think of that she’d missed since her daughter was born. Giving up R-rated movies for cartoons and children’s educational videos seemed like a small sacrifice compared to the other compromises she had made to raise Sienna into a healthy and happy child. After a decade of seeing little to no action, suspense, or romance in a film, the visual stimulation was almost overbearing. Melanie eventually only picked the romantic comedies and watched three in a row, which set her to crying again.

A pan of chocolate zucchini bread brought her to reality for a couple of hours but after devouring three quarters of the loaf and chasing it down with a huge glass of coconut milk, she was back to drowning in the depths of depression.

While mopping her face with another soggy tissue, she became vaguely aware of the security system alerting her. Did she care that someone was trying to enter her house?

When the alarm began screeching and Tweeny’s barking penetrated her fog, she jumped off the couch. Emmeline plugged her ears with her fingers and yelled something at Melanie while she tried to remember the disarm code.

“What is going on?” Emmeline asked. “Melanie, are you okay? You scared me half to death.”

Melanie was wondering the same thing. What's going on? But life began snapping back into place as the alarm siren pounded against her eardrums like an axe. The security company had to be alerted that there were no intruders, and if she remembered correctly, the police would be there in seconds. She and her house were still on priority alert in Granite Lake.

She managed to disarm the alarm. “What are you doing here?” she asked as she moved around the kitchen and living room in search of her phone.

“Checking on my sister. What does it look like?” Emmeline asked, as she punched buttons on her cell phone. “You could have been dead for all I know. Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”

Melanie stilled, her mind blank. She was on her hands and knees, looking underneath the couch. Tweeny enthusiastically helped by digging into the carpet along the front edge of the sofa. Melanie pushed herself off the floor and stared at her sister. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s been wrong with me. I think I’m suffering from early menopause. Or I’m really ill. Like mentally ill. I can’t stop crying.”

“Oh.” Emmeline looked slightly perplexed, but she lowered her phone and came to her sister’s side. “I just dialed your number. Is your ringer on?”

“I haven’t a clue. I can’t remember the last place I had it.” Melanie clicked the movie off. They paused and listened for Melanie’s ringtone, but only heard silence and Tweeny’s nails ripping at the carpet.

“Are you having hot flashes?” Emmeline asked, the skepticism evident on her oval face.

“No. I don’t know.” Melanie stared at the nest of blankets on her couch. She’d been swaddled in the comforter and felt hot off and on, but that more likely had to do with the summer temperatures not her hormones.

“Well, little sis, you’re kind of young for menopause, but I’m not saying it’s impossible. You do eat a lot of soy. Maybe you’re just having a reaction to everything that has been going on lately.”

The flashing glare of police lights interrupted their sisterly bonding.

“Crud buckets!” Melanie hurried to the door and flung it open. The police had arrived. She ran out, perhaps not the smartest move she’d ever made, but she wanted to tell them all was well before guns were drawn or whatever it was cops did in situations like hers.

The panic driven, adrenaline boosted behavior didn’t make Melanie come across as the most sane person the police had ever dealt with. The tangles in her hair, dirty pajamas, and the house alarm going off again didn’t help either, but after a moment, she was able to explain herself clearly enough. The officer took a look around, just in case, and then sat in his cruiser, curbside, after Melanie and Emmeline retreated indoors.

Emmeline not so subtly observed the dirty kitchen, the wadded-up tissues, the state of the living room, and took a deep breath before speaking.

“I found my phone,” Melanie said as she walked into the living room from the hallway.

“Where was it?”

“In the bathroom trashcan.”

“That’s a good place for it,” Emmeline said sarcastically.

“I have no idea how it got there. There’s not even any chew marks on it, so I can’t blame Tweeny. And the battery is dead.” Melanie plugged the charger into her phone and turned to face her sister. “I’m a terrible mother. I haven’t talked to Sienna in at least two days.”

Emmeline’s laugh caught in her throat and produced a hearty snort. “You know what you are?” she asked.

“Please do tell, wise one,” Melanie said flatly and began clearing clutter and dirty dishes from the countertops.

After the incident with the house alarm, the cops, and noticing Justin watching the entire ordeal from his porch, she was now as clear headed as a murky swamp, and a bit irritated. Irritated with herself and Emmeline. Her sister held the position of being the catalyst for bringing to light Melanie’s unfortunate demise of self-pity. Melanie would rather return to her pathetic state than face it. Denial is so much easier.

“You’re heartbroken.”

That wasn’t what she thought her sister would say and she wasn’t prepared for it.

Emmeline continued, “The only other time you’ve been this bad off was when you broke up with Braden before.”

“I didn’t break up with him last time,” Melanie said.

“And apparently he didn’t break up with you either,” Emmeline said, stating the recently uncovered truth.

“This is different.” Melanie started rinsing the dishes and loading the dishwasher.

Emmeline went to the pantry, retrieved the bag of dog food, and filled Tweeny’s bowl. She kept talking. “Is it? Let me point out what I’ve noticed. Braden exits your life. You stay distracted by throwing yourself into project after project until you’re absolutely exhausted, then you have a breakdown and hide from the world. Let me rattle your memory. Do you remember your obsession with reading all your text books cover to cover while inhaling Double Fudge Brownie ice cream?”

Melanie cast an unappreciative glare at her sister.

“That’s right. I remember the empty ice cream containers all over your dorm room. Not to mention the chip bags. And I cut the dreadlocks out of your hair since your coping skills seem to negate personal hygiene.”

Melanie reached up to touch her hair, then lowered her hand since it was dripping with dish water. “Please stop. That was a difficult time in my life. I don’t need a retelling.”

“You do. You’re acting out in the exact same way,” Emmeline said, exasperated.

“It is not the same. We’re different people now. I’m a mom. You know I can’t put Sienna in danger. And he’s going to Florida. What am I supposed to do? Date a man who lives on the other side of the country?”

“I thought you said he might be moving to Florida, not that he definitely is,” Emmeline countered.

“He said he wasn’t sure.”

“All I know is, when people love each other, they make things work. Did you even consider that he told you about the job opportunity in Florida to feel you out? To see how you reacted to the news?”

Melanie had not considered the point. She shut off the water and grabbed a dish towel. With the towel twisted in her hands, she faced her sister and vomited her insecurities. “I thought I was being strong. A single mother who needed to protect her feelings. How was I supposed to make the right decisions when I’ve never done any of this before? I’m trying my best, but I’ve failed miserably. Sort of like my education, my marriage, and now my relationship with the only man I ever truly loved.” Melanie's final admission ended with fresh tears. She buried her face in the towel.

Emmeline’s warm arms surrounded her sister. “You are not a failure. You finished school on your time. You’re an excellent mother to a daughter that is harder to raise than most, and your marriage did not end because of something you did. He cheated on you, remember?”

Melanie lowered the towel and eyed her sister with skepticism. “I married the wrong man.”

“But you did not know that at the time. You were nineteen and you loved him, or at least you believed you did. I was there. I remember talking to you about your new husband and your new life.”

“I think the pregnancy hormones were messing with me,” Melanie said.

“That could be part of it, but you were only a kid. Cut yourself some slack, would you? If you think anyone has their life figured out, think again. We’re all just bumbling about. Some of us get it right on the first shot, and others have to keep trying. You’ve always done your best, Mel. Just like you're doing right now.”

“If this is my best, then I don’t want to play anymore. I quit.”

Emmeline took Melanie by the shoulders. “Giving up isn’t in your DNA. We both know it. If Sienna made a mistake with a friend and was beating herself up over it, what would you tell her?”

“To be honest with herself first, then be totally honest with the friend, and apologize if necessary.”

“That sounds like great advice. Take it to heart. Then call him.”

“I think it might be too late. We haven’t spoken in weeks.” Melanie felt regret like lead weights trying to keep her down.

“It’s time to stop thinking so dang much. Is he worth the risk? You can’t get more miserable than you already are,” Emmeline pointed out with a half smile.

“Gee, thanks. Why did you come over here again?” Melanie asked, regaining a smidge of herself back.

“To kick your butt. Why else would your older sister be here?”

“Of course. I knew that. And, yes. Braden’s worth the risk.”