Their Last Second Chance Read online

  They got busy setting the table, with Jake buzzing around the oval shape like an airplane and Dudley nipping at his heels. Cody ambled in a few minutes later, followed by Dylan, Abby’s fiancé. The last time Melanie had seen Cody, he’d been a sullen, withdrawn teenager, angry at the world. Today, the seventeen-year-old walked in with a smile on his face, ready with a hug for his mom and then one for his aunt. “Hey, Aunt Melanie. How was your trip?”

  She blinked back her surprise. Cody was engaging with adults? To her shock, there was no trace of the teenage angst she’d seen when Abby and the boys had visited New York a couple years ago. Clearly, settling down in Stone Gap and adding Dylan to their family had been a good influence on the boys. “Great. Thanks. I hear you’re working at the community center now.”

  “Yup. Dylan’s got me doing some maintenance,” Cody said, his face filled with pride and excitement, a mirror to Jake’s earlier, “and helping out with the basketball program. We’re planning a job fair kind of thing for next month, too.”

  “He’s practically running the place now.” Dylan grinned and clapped a hand on Cody’s shoulder. Dylan was a tall, lanky man with brown hair and a ready smile. He clearly loved Abby and the boys, and Abby loved him, given the joy that lit her face as soon as Dylan walked into the room. Any man who made her older sister that happy got Melanie’s immediate stamp of approval.

  Cody blushed and ducked his head. “I’m just helping.”

  “Well, you’re doing a great job.”

  While Melanie exchanged small talk with her nephews and Dylan, Abby excused herself, went upstairs, then came back a few minutes later. “Ma isn’t feeling well, Mel. She asked if you’d bring her a plate and then you two can visit. I think she got too much sun today, walking downtown with me. We got lunch and planned on some window shopping, but...” Abby shrugged.

  “Ma complained about the noise and the heat and you gave up?” Melanie said. “I get it, sis. I’ll take her some dinner.”

  “Thanks. It’s been a stressful few days, and right now...well, I appreciate it. We’ll wait until you come back down so we can eat with you.” Abby filled a plate with chicken and potatoes, then gave Melanie a set of silverware and a napkin. “First room on the right.”

  “Thanks.” Melanie swallowed her nerves, then climbed the stairs to face her harshest critic.

  * * *

  Cynthia Cooper was a strong woman—anyone who met her would walk away saying exactly that. She’d raised two girls alone, after their father had died in a car accident when Melanie was a baby, and for years she’d worked two jobs to support her family. She’d weathered widowhood, financial crises, a cancer scare and a dozen other issues with a stiff upper lip. To the outside world, she was the epitome of strength. To Melanie, strong was just a euphemism for high expectations with no warm fuzzies.

  Melanie knocked on the open door, then stepped into the room. “Hi, Ma. I brought you some dinner.”

  “It’s about time you came and said hello.” Her mother sat up in bed, and had arranged the pillows to keep her back straight. For being in her late fifties, Cynthia had aged well, thanks to regular yoga sessions, fastidious application of night creams and unrelenting attention to every aspect of her appearance at all times. She kept her hair dyed blond, wore minimal makeup and even in bed had her hair curled and wore recently pressed pajamas.

  Melanie put the plate on a floral bed tray sitting on the ottoman, then set the tray over her mother’s lap. “Abby made chicken and potatoes. It smells amazing.”

  “Hopefully your sister didn’t burn this dinner. Last night’s was atrocious.” Cynthia shook her head. “I swear, it’s like you girls haven’t retained a single thing I taught you when you were young.”

  Melanie bit back her first reply, about how hard it was to pay attention to a parent who criticized more than she taught. “Not all of us are good at cooking, Ma.”

  “Clearly not. I suppose you’d say that you are good at ordering takeout.” Another head shake. “Such a waste, especially in today’s world, when you can easily eat at home.”

  Melanie put a smile on her face, because she’d never win the battle over ordering Chinese food versus making her own pot roast. “So, how have you been?”

  “Terrible. This heat is killing me. I can’t wait to go back to Connecticut, where the weather is reasonable.” Ma waved a hand at the air in the room. “It’s positively stifling. I can hardly breathe.”

  North Carolina could get hot, but today had been in the mid-seventies, with low humidity and partial cloud cover. In Ma’s room, a ceiling fan spun a lazy circle, and the breeze danced with the edges of the open curtains. “Well, I’ll let you eat your dinner,” Melanie said.

  “Stay.” Ma patted the side of the bed. “Visit with your mother for once. You live one state away and I have to go all the way to North Carolina to see you for five minutes.”

  Melanie perched on the edge of the bed. Her mother speared a piece of chicken and ate it. She tried to think of something she could say that her mother wouldn’t turn into a criticism. “Abby’s pretty excited about the wedding. And Dylan seems like a really great guy.” Maybe if Melanie focused enough attention on her sister, Ma wouldn’t think to ask about Melanie’s life.

  “Yes, far better than that loser she married the first time.” Ma made a face. “Anyway, enough about Abby. What have you been up to? Have you been promoted to editor yet? You really should be, you know. You’ve put in enough time at that magazine.”

  “Uh, no promotion yet. And I’m doing fine.”

  “And Adam? How is he? When are you two going to give me a grandchild? Your sister has already had two children.”

  “I’m aware of how many children Abby has, Ma.” How long had she been in the room? Five minutes? Already, her patience had worn thinner than a piece of paper. “I’m not ready to have kids.”

  “Well, you need to start thinking about these things. You aren’t getting any younger. And once you lose your figure, men won’t be so interested in making babies with you.”

  Melanie got to her feet and worked another smile to her face. “Your dinner is going to get cold if we keep talking. We’ll visit later.”

  Like ten years from now, she thought as she headed out of the room and back downstairs. Maybe by then she’d have done all the things that checked off approval on her mother’s list.

  Somehow, Melanie doubted that. From the minute she’d been born, Melanie had been a runner-up to Abby, and if her mother knew the truth, Melanie wouldn’t even be running a close second to her sister, who clearly had it all.

  * * *

  Melanie returned to the sound of happy chatter in the dining room. Jake was telling everyone about his day at school with Cody interjecting with comments about work and Abby and Dylan filling in the blanks. The puppy sat to the side, tail swishing against the floor. The room was filled with the merry sounds of a family.

  As happy as Melanie was for her sister, who deserved a good man after divorcing the ex from hell—about that, her mother was right—a part of Melanie was jealous. Maybe things might have worked themselves out if Adam and she had tried for kids...

  Wishful thinking. Actually, it was more like unproductive, stupid wishful thinking. Adam had turned out to be a self-involved, cheating jerk—the fact that he was a model should have been her first clue that he might be more narcissistic than considerate—and if they’d had kids, she would have wound up tied to him for the rest of her life, in one way or another.

  Either way, Adam was out of her life, and if he stayed with Cheri or Shari or whoever she was, he was probably going to make babies who’d have names that would be dotted with little hearts.

  Except there’d been a moment when she was eighteen when she had imagined a future with a baby, a husband. A totally different man than the one she married, a man who had made her feel like the most special person on earth—unti
l he’d shattered her heart and the future she’d pictured fell apart.

  “Melanie, what do you think?”

  She drew herself back to Abby’s question. “Uh, sorry. I was daydreaming.”

  Abby laughed. “Probably thinking about work. How’s that going, anyway? I saw the latest issue of City Girl when I was at the market. I looked for an article by you, but didn’t see one.” Abby turned to Dylan. “Melanie writes for a women’s magazine. I’m so proud of her, because she grew up to be exactly what she wanted to be.”

  “Yep, exactly.” Unemployed and with a résumé filled with frivolous articles—that was every girl’s dream, right? Melanie had been writing ever since she learned how to hold a pencil. She’d once thought she would grow up to be someone writing important things that people would read and remember. She wouldn’t call 750 words on mastering under-eye concealer an important thing. She’d taken the first job out of college that offered a steady paycheck and had told herself that it made her happy. At least, it had until last year.

  “I didn’t have anything in the last issue because I’ve been, uh, busy researching a big piece.” Yeah, researching a job that would pay enough for an unemployed writer to afford New York City rent. Even in a sublet with rent control, Melanie had blown through almost all of her savings. She needed to secure that job at the hard-news online magazine by the end of the month or she’d be eating ramen noodles for every meal for the foreseeable future. The editor at the online magazine had said bring me something worth publishing and I’ll hire you, but thus far, Melanie hadn’t found anything that fit what he was looking for.

  “Too bad you don’t live here.” Dylan took a second helping of chicken, then added a buttered roll. “Saul Richardson, who puts out the Stone Gap Gazette, just lost his only writer. He’s getting up there in age, and he’s totally overwhelmed with writing all the articles himself, along with doing the layout and the printing and distribution. He’s been looking for a new journalist but hasn’t found one yet.”

  Melanie’s interest perked. Given the size of the town, the Stone Gap Gazette likely had a budget far lower than the multimillion-dollar one at City Girl. But then again, the cost of living in this North Carolina town was also far lower. She had no interest in taking on a permanent job here, but maybe she could get some work for the next couple weeks, at least until the wedding was over and Abby was off on her honeymoon. That way, Melanie could start adding more than she was subtracting from her checking account. And buy herself some time to come up with that great idea the other editor wanted. “Maybe he would let me write an article or two. Might be fun to do a piece while I’m here.”

  Abby leaned over and cut a big piece of chicken into smaller bites for Jacob. “It’d be pretty cool to see an article written by my sister in the local paper. I can buy a hundred copies and run around town bragging about you.”

  Melanie’s cheeks heated. She’d known her sister bought the magazine, and she would often text or email about Melanie’s latest article. But she’d never imagined her older, accomplished, never-got-in-trouble sister would be that proud. “Thanks, Abs.”

  “I’m just glad you’re here,” Abby said. “I didn’t think you could get that much time off. Adam must be missing you like crazy. Adam is Mel’s husband,” she explained to Dylan.

  “I couldn’t stand to be away from Abby for eight hours, never mind eight days.” Dylan met his fiancée’s gaze with a tender, quiet connection. “But then again, I’m still in head-over-heels-for-her mode.”

  Abby laughed. “You’ve been in that mode since the day you met me.”

  He gave her a soft, special smile. “That’s because you’re amazing.”

  “Ugh. You guys, there are children at the table,” Cody said, but a hint of a smile played on his lips.

  Melanie had never looked at Adam that way, and he’d never looked at her like that, either. She’d married him because she’d thought she should, because they’d been dating for two years and it seemed to be the expected thing, the next rung up the respectable-life ladder.

  Dylan passed the rolls to Cody and snagged another one for himself. “One of these days, Code, you’ll be just as crazy over a girl.”

  Cody glanced at his mother and then his soon-to-be stepfather. “Yeah, maybe.”

  There was such happiness here, such a beautiful sense of family, and it seemed sacrilegious to bring falseness into that. But Melanie didn’t know any other way to operate, any means of untangling the web she had woven over the past couple of years. The continual stories about her fake happiness with a husband who was gone, about her successes at a job she had already lost, had become so big, all Melanie could do was hope she left town before the edges frayed.

  “I should get back to the inn and get checked in,” Melanie said. She got to her feet and picked up her half-empty plate. “Sorry to eat and run, Abs, but I have an article to work on tonight.”

  “Oh, I hate to see you go, too.” Abby took the plate from Melanie, then drew her into a hug. “But we have all week to get caught up, and it’ll be such a welcome break from the stress of Ma being here and trying to get the wedding details sorted. I plan on spending lots of time with you, little sister. I want to hear all about your adventures in New York, the crazy people you’ve been interviewing and how that hot husband of yours is sweeping you off your feet.”

  Melanie’s smile wavered. “Sounds great,” she said. If nothing else, it would be interesting. It was going to be like reading a novel without scanning the back cover first—she had no idea how the story was going to turn out.

  Chapter Two

  The Comeback Bar was tucked on a little side street in downtown Stone Gap. Country music poured from the open front door, currently blasting a well-done cover of a Blake Shelton hit. The place sounded inviting, even though from the outside the Comeback looked like it needed a comeback of its own. The gray siding was cracked and faded, the sign above the door was missing a few letters, and a poster tacked to the outside advertising a New Year’s Eve party was more than two years out of date.

  So maybe this idea didn’t bode as well as Melanie had thought. But given the size of Stone Gap, there was only a handful of choices for nightlife. There was the Sea Shanty near the beach, a downtown diner that only stayed open late on Friday nights and the Comeback Bar. Either way, having a drink here was better than sitting in her room at the Stone Gap Inn, alone with her regrets. She’d done that after she checked in and lasted maybe an hour before the urge to leave overwhelmed her.

  Melanie ducked inside the bar. It was still in the seventies, a warm night for late September, but Melanie had brought a lightweight sweater anyway, more conditioned to the cooler New York weather than the warmer southern temperatures. She draped her cardigan over the stool next to her, then sat down at the varnished oak bar.

  “What can I get you?” A portly guy in a white T-shirt embroidered with the name Al slid a paper coaster her way.

  Despite the rundown decor of splintery wood paneling and cracked red vinyl seats, the Comeback Bar had a nice selection of craft beers chalked on a slate board above the bar. Melanie chose an orange wheat one.

  “You from out of town?” Al asked as he angled a glass under the tap and pulled the handle.

  “Visiting my sister. How’d you know?”

  Al set the beer in front of her. He had a wide, friendly face, with a full beard and bushy eyebrows. “This town is smaller than the tip of a pin, so when someone I don’t recognize comes in my bar, ninety-nine percent of the time, they’re not from here. You staying at the inn?”

  “Yes. I just checked in a little while ago.” Given that the Stone Gap Inn was literally the only choice within twenty miles of town, Melanie hadn’t had a choice, other than staying with perceptive Abby, who would have figured out the truth about Melanie’s situation the first night. Besides, Melanie liked the inn, with its Southern charm and view of lush
green rolling hills, and most of all she liked Della Barlow and Mavis Beacham, the owners, who were as warm and welcoming as the inn itself. From what she’d been told, Della and Mavis had bought the building a little over a year ago and done a top-to-bottom renovation, adding modern conveniences but keeping the character of the antebellum home, and the historical elements of the 120-year-old two-story house.

  Abby had mentioned that when the original Stone Gap Inn, a rather rundown excuse for a hotel, had closed down almost two years ago, Della and Mavis had renovated this antebellum house. They’d been friends with the owner of the first inn, which had been located on the other side of town and kept not only the name, but also the customer list. That was smart business, in Melanie’s mind, because it gave the new B&B a built-in clientele from day one. Given how beautifully the restoration had turned out, she was sure the new Stone Gap Inn would be a huge success. The whole place looked like it was out of a movie. Such a change from the concrete world Melanie had left this morning.

  “You’ll like it at the inn. Della and Mavis run a great place. Since they opened that little place, they’ve attracted all kinds of folks to our town. Good for them, good for Stone Gap and good for me.” Al grinned. “Why, there’s one of our newest temporary residents right now. Only been here a few days and already a bona-fide hero.”

  Melanie turned on the stool. And froze.

  Harris McCarthy stood five feet away, all grown-up and handsome as hell. She hadn’t seen him in at least eleven years, not since he put her heart through a shredder. They’d grown up in Connecticut and gone to high school together, dated for two years, and as senior year came to a close, they’d talked about forever. Then without warning, he’d broken up with her. On the exact day when she’d needed him most. He hadn’t wanted to listen to her, or believe the truth; he’d just ended it and walked away. She’d vowed then and there to never forgive him, to seal her heart against his smile—not that she’d had any expectation of him ever turning that smile her way again. She put a hand over her stomach and reminded herself all over again of that awful, terrible summer. What was he doing here, of all places?