Page 35 of A Second Chance Christmas Kiss

“Nevertheless, I’m sorry.” I shook my head, drumming my fingers on the table. “This also helps me understand why you turned me away so coldly at your wedding. You didn’t want to put up with my grandfather and seem inconsequential. Plus, your mother reinforced the idea that you couldn’t see a life with me.”

Melody’s phone buzzed. She glanced down at it, then slid out of the booth. “I have to go,” she told me. “It’s the police.”

I blinked. “What?”

But she was already moving away from the table, her phone held to her ear. “I’m on my way.”

I opened my wallet and dropped some bills on the table—more than enough to cover the meal and a generous tip—then rushed after her. I barely beat her to the car and opened the door for her, then went around and started the engine. In moments, we were speeding toward her shop.

“What is going on?” I finally asked.

She shook her head. “I don’t know. This is the second break-in I’ve had.”

“What do you mean, this is the second break-in?”

“When I saw you on the beach the other night and you chased me down during the movie, the police called and said that one of the neighbors had seen someone go into my mother’s house. Then they heard something like a gunshot.”

I was suddenly on high alert. “A gunshot?”

She nodded. “When I got there, a lamp was turned over but nothing seemed out of place. Oh, please go to my mother’s place.”

My mind spun. “Where is your mother’s place?”

She told me the address. I knew exactly where it was—not far from her doll shop. I drove faster.

“I honestly don’t know why anyone would break in there.”

“Do you have cameras up?”

“No.”

“Okay, we need to get cameras up. If you let me, I will call someone and get on that.”

“No. No way. I’m not going to have cameras up before New Year’s. I won’t have my son think he’s being watched or in danger.”

“You’re staying at your mother’s house during New Year’s?” My curiosity was piqued, especially hearing that her son would be there.

She squeezed her eyes shut. “Will was supposed to be here for Christmas, but two days ago he told me he’s going skiing with some friends for Christmas. He still plans to come here for New Year’s.”

I tried to process everything about this situation, but I was coming up short. “You’ll be staying at the house, not in the apartment, right?”

She gripped the door handle and sucked in another long breath. “For New Year’s, but no sooner.”

I could tell she was about to cry. She had the same telltale chin wobble she’d had since we were eight. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Her voice broke, and she wiped at a tear coming down her cheek. “I hate this. I hate being divorced. I hate my stupid ex-husband. I hate that my son didn’t want to be with me for Christmas. And I hate that he wants to stay at my mom’s old house. I need to get it ready and it’s a huge mess because I haven’t wanted to go through everything, but I have to now, because Will only wants to stay there.”

I put my hand over hers. “I’ll help you.”

She blinked, and more tears fell. “That’s kind of you, but I don’t know what’s going on with you. I don’t know how to fix this place up. I have no idea why someone would break in. I just …”

I’d gone through counseling with my first wife, and I knew it was important to validate people’s feelings. “Listen, I can imagine being frustrated.”

“I am.”

“Right, it makes sense. You have gone through a lot, and you have a lot coming at you.”

She sighed. “Why would anyone be breaking in?”

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