Page 7 of Ebbing Tides
Or perhaps I just enjoyed the idea of having her in my truck … as crazy as that might’ve been, considering we’d just met. But, oh God, why couldn’t I shake the feeling that … wehadn’tjust met? She felt old to me, like someone I’d known once before, in another life perhaps. Or maybe it had just been too long since I’d been in the presence of a pretty, nice-smelling woman. My intentions were good, of course. I was taking her home, and that was it, but I just …
Well, let’s just say, she reminded me of someone.Something. A feeling, a spark maybe. The hope of more and possibility.
But…
“He’s such a good boy. Yes, he is,” she gushed before aiming her shy smile at me and adding, “I’m Melanie, by the way.”
Melanie.
Melanie …
A chord was struck in my heart, deep and yearning, at the sound of her name. But, no.No, she couldn’t bethatMelanie. NotmyMelanie—as if she’d ever been mine at all.
Chuck had mentioned his sister-in-law to me before. Recently even. She had come up for Thanksgiving.
Where did he say she was from?I couldn’t remember now, and I wasn’t sure it mattered.
He had asked if I’d be around, but I had already made plans with my sisters—reluctantly, mind you.
As a rule, I wasn’t a fan of the holidays. Not in an Ebenezer Scrooge kind of way or anything. I just didn’t like to make everyone else miserable. Hell, I wasn’t even what I’d callmiserable. But for me, holidays reminded me of the times I missed and couldn’t have again, memories I’d never have the chance to create. Of a family I’d had but lost. It was just better to pretend it was a normal day. For eight years, I’d spent those days alone with Lido—much to Sid’s dismay, of course, but at least he respected my wishes—but I’d spent this last round of holidays with them all and Dad, considering the circumstances. I hadn’t wanted to. But …
Anyway …
“Chuck has mentioned your name before,” I commented, making conversation.
I knew someone with that name too …
I tried to conjure the image of that young woman in my mind, the one from an auto repair shop in Connecticut, and I glanced at the woman to my side. The woman in my mind was so much younger, her memory so fuzzy and faded with time, but …
No, stop. That’s ridiculous.
Melanie barked an amused laugh, and a jolt of electricity struck my chest. Excitement.Life.
“Chuck? Charlie isChuck?” She grinned, lighting the cab with mirth. “Oh my God, I bet he hates that.”
I blanched, my gut twisting. “Does he? Crap, I’ve been calling him that since …” I pulled my shoulders to my ears. “Well, probably since the first day we met. Ivan introduced us years ago, and that’s what he always called him, so I just figured …”
“No, I like it. It has a nice ring to it,” she said, her voice carried by her laughter. “God, I’m just so glad you came along. I tried calling Charlie and Stormy, but nobody was answering their phones. They were in the middle of playing a few board games with my kids, so I guess they were distracted. But, holy crap, I was starting to freak out.”
Was that why she’d been crying? She was scared? I guessed I couldn’t blame her for that. Being lost in the middle of a cemetery at night wasn’t for the faint of heart. Took a special kinda person to handle it.
Like me.
“Perfect timing,” I answered with a kind smile, then reached out to turn up the heat. “Are you warm enough? I can—”
“Oh! Yeah, I’m fine, thank you. Honestly, I feel like I’m in an oven now compared to how it was out there.”
My hand was already on the way to turn down the heat. “Are you too warm? Because—”
“No, no! Really, I’m fine. This … this is great.”
She smiled at me from across the truck. I caught her eye and found something shy, almost reluctant hidden there. A question maybe. Curiosity, wonderment. My heart lurched, my stomach flipped, and I quickly turned back to the road before I could think too hard about the things I was feeling andwhy.
“So, you have kids?” I asked, changing the subject as I steered the truck toward the hill.
The lights from Chuck—no, Charlie’s cottage came into view, and a surge of disappointment dropped against my shoulders like a twenty-ton sack of bricks.
“Yeah, I have three. All boys. You?”
