A Hopeful Heart and A Home, A Heart, A Husband Page 12
“He didn’t want to get your hopes up until we’re absolutely sure. Unfortunately, I don’t know if we ever will be. The guy still only remembers the name John and a date.” Mitch shook his head in frustration. “It was so long ago, and there’s so little information to go on.”
“What was the date?” Hope whispered, her eyes huge and full of unshed tears.
“June twenty-first,” he told her.
Melanie watched as joy flooded the older woman’s countenance.
“He remembered that.” Hope smiled gently, her tear-filled eyes sparkling. “Even with everything, he remembered the date.”
Melanie looked to Mitch for an explanation, but he shrugged in confusion. They sat silent, waiting for Hope to explain. But she was clearly lost in her own world and not at all aware of them.
Carefully Melanie touched the older woman’s shoulder, and when the blue eyes turned toward her, they were full of bemusement.
“June twenty-first was the day we were engaged,” Hope told them tearfully. “Jean asked me to marry him and gave me this ring on June twenty-first.” She fingered the diamond solitaire she’d worn on her right hand for two and a half decades.
Mitch tried to catch Melanie’s eye and jerked his head toward the kitchen. When she frowned at him, he mouthed the word kitchen at her. Finally she nodded and got up from the sofa. Her eyes searched Hope’s face for some sign, but the woman was staring, as if in a trance, across the room.
“Will she be okay, do you think?” she asked him, frowning. “Maybe we should call your grandfather.”
Mitch shook his head thoughtfully, watching the concern that filled her green eyes.
“I don’t think she’ll want to see Gramps right now,” he murmured, setting the kettle on the stove to boil. “But she does need her friends around her. Could you call your mother?”
“Yes,” Melanie agreed, and dialed. “The fearsome threesome can band together and support each other like no one else ever could. Hello, Mother?”
Mitch listened as she explained the situation.
“You can? Great! Yes, bring Faith, too. She’ll cheer her up.” Melanie listened, then tipped her head, twirling a lock of glossy dark hair as she considered her mother’s words.
“Well, I’ve got a date but I think Mitch will be here. Oh, just a minute.” She turned to glance at Mitch, who was tapping her on the shoulder. “What?”
“I’ve got a date, too,” he told her.
Her eyes widened, but she dutifully relayed the information to her mother.
“Yes, a movie just might do the trick. Thanks, Mom.” She replaced the telephone and turned to stare at him. “They’ll be right over,” she told him.
The doorbell rang, and Mitch muttered something under his breath as he welcomed their latest guest. It was good old Jeff. Again. Tall, playboy Dr. Jeff, who never stopped grinning. Mitch endured the playful slap on the back, smiling halfheartedly as he noticed Jeff’s fashionable outfit. So this was a real date!
“Jeff,” he said without inflection. Mitch swallowed the gall that surged in his mouth. “Where are you going tonight?”
“Um, there’s a performance at the local arts center. Operatic. We’re going to opening night.”
Mitch gulped down the sarcastic words at the warning look on Melanie’s face. Manners, he told himself. That’s what she wanted. Common decency. Assuming a politeness he didn’t feel, Mitch smiled heartily.
“How nice. The opera.” His black eyebrows surged upward when he turned to grin cheekily at Melanie. He tossed a handful of the freshly buttered popcorn he’d just pulled out of the microwave into his open mouth.
“Nala and I are going to stay here and watch a movie. Mushy old Cary Grant thing. So romantic.” He stuffed some more popcorn in his mouth at the look in Melanie’s eyes.
She was frowning, her gleaming head tipped to one side as she studied his face.
“Who’s Nala?” Her voice was suspiciously abrupt, but Mitch gave no sign that he noticed.
“Oh, she’s with Mercer, Metcalfe and Martens,” he told her, naming a Bismarck firm. “Very bright, very smart, very high profile.”
Right on cue, the doorbell rang, and Mitch opened it immediately, grabbing the tiny woman who stood quietly in the doorway. He wrapped her in an enthusiastic hug.
“This is Nala,” he announced unnecessarily, watching Melanie all the while. Mitch swallowed his disappointment when his roommate showed nothing other than her usual courteous manners, greeting his date with a smile and a handshake before moving toward the door.
“Well, we had better be off,” she murmured in her low voice. Her arm was threaded through Jeff’s tuxedoed one. Mitch watched Melanie lips stretch in a happy smile. “Have a good evening.”
“Yeah, you, too,” he muttered. All discussion ceased as the elevator doors flew open and two elderly ladies swooped into the apartment.
“Are you all right, dear?” Charity murmured as she checked Hope’s wan face and sad eyes. “Remember who’s in control. He’s never failed us yet.”
“I know.” Hope hugged Faith and then grasped Charity’s arthritic hand in hers. “It’s just been rather a shock.” She stared at her friends. “I mean, if it is him.” She shook her head in amazement.
“Then you’ll deal with that, too,” Faith told her sternly. She eyed Melanie and Mitch with a frown. “I thought you two were going out somewhere?” she said.
“I am—” Melanie began, but Mitch cut her off. He didn’t want these little old ladies thinking any more terrible thoughts about him.
“Melanie’s going to the opera with Jeff, and Nala and I are going to watch a movie,” he explained cheerfully.
Faith seemed upset by this.
“Oh, piffle! I thought surely you and Melanie would be together,” she blurted. “Don’t you like each other after all?”
“Like each other?” Hope’s voice was full of scorn. “They can’t stop bickering for five minutes. He eats doughnuts nonstop, and she leaves her stuff lying around. He likes to make packaged soup using every pot in the place. She detests whatever he makes—even when she likes it!” Hope shook her head in disgust. “It reminds me of my days at the junior high when everyone got a case of puppy love. I sorted out more disputes in those days.” Her eyes searched her friends’ for understanding. “But nothing I dealt with there was as petty as these two.”
Mitch heard Melanie’s weak voice. “Jeff, I, er, think we’d better go now. Good night, everyone.”
Oh, sure, he thought, leave me to take the heat for this, why don’t you? If that isn’t typical!
But it seemed the ladies weren’t hanging around.
“You need a break, dear. That’s the best thing in the world for the worries. Take your mind off your problems and enjoy a bit of rest and relaxation.” Faith was busy straightening up the apartment as she considered the possibilities Mossbank offered.
Which didn’t take long, Mitch noticed with amusement.
“Why don’t we go out to Fleming’s Creek for a swim?”
He gaped at the gray-haired woman, wondering if anything he’d heard about her addled state had been exaggerated. Somehow, he couldn’t see the fearsome threesome, as Melanie called the ladies, swimming in a creek.
“For heaven’s sake, Faith, there hasn’t been water in Fleming’s Creek for ten years or more.” Charity rolled her eyes.
“I’ve got it!” Faith’s countenance shone with excitement. “The stock car races are on tonight. Let’s go watch them.”
Hope burst out laughing.
“I don’t think I want to sit in all that dust and watch cars smashing into one another, but thank you for thinking of it, dear.” She patted the rounded shoulder with affection. “No, I really think I’d just like to…”
As Mitch watched, Charity whispered something in her ear. He saw Hope’s gaze flick over him first, then Nala. Her eyes grew round with something he couldn’t define. She jumped to her feet, tugging at her wrinkled clothing.
“Go? Why do we need to go?” Faith sounded perplexed as her long fingers picked up the rented Cary Grant movie. “I love this one.”
Mitch watched, mesmerized, as Charity shook her head at Hope and shooed her into the bedroom to change. Gently she lifted the black video box out of Faith’s hands and replaced it on the television.
“You’ve seen this hundred of times, dear,” she murmured, drawing Faith toward the door.
“I know. I really like how he falls in love with that young girl.” She sighed. “It’s so romantic!”
Mitch couldn’t hear much of the rest but he did hear the excitement in Faith’s voice when she said, “The Trevi Fountain, you mean? Ooh! I love the Trevi.”
Within minutes, the three bustling sprites had scurried to the elevator, chattering a mile a minute. Hope glanced back just once, fixing Mitch with her sternest teacher look.
“I’ll be late,” she told him seriously. “Don’t wait up.”
And then with a swoosh of doors they were gone.
Nala stared at him openmouthed, her eyes wide with wonder.
“Mitch?”
“Yes?” He leaned down to straighten the mat at the front door. When there was a prolonged silence, he straightened.
“What,” she whispered, awestruck, “was that?”
Chapter Seven
Four and a half hours later, Mitch finally acknowledged the truth. He had not fooled anyone, except maybe himself, anyway, with this crazy good-guy charade. Nala had her own ideas.
“You are in love with her,” she said firmly.
Shocked, Mitch stared at his oldest friend. In love? Hardly. He’d never loved anyone. Melanie Stewart was gorgeous and full of energy, and he enjoyed her company. But love? Naught.
“I know what I’m talking about,” Nala insisted. “And you are. Your eyes follow her around constantly. When you’re not with her, you go all dopey daydreaming about her.” She looked at him, her gray eyes bright with satisfaction. “It couldn’t have happened to a more deserving fellow.” She laughed.
“Nala, you know me.” Mitch had appealed to her good sense. “You know I can’t love anybody. Okay, I admit that I’m interested in her.” He grinned sardonically. “In certain ways.”
Nala merely swatted at his shoulder, brushing his argument aside.
“But love her? No. I don’t know how,” he told her.
“Nonsense,” she insisted. “Okay, you’ve had some problems. Who hasn’t? That doesn’t mean you can’t move beyond them.”
They had argued good-naturedly for a long time. Eventually, Nala threw up her hands in frustration.
“I’m going home, Mitch. Your mind isn’t here with me, anyway.” She zipped her jacket as she spoke. “Just remember, you can run but you can’t hide.” Her soft lips had pressed gently against his forehead.
It was funny, Mitch mused. He had known Nala for years. She had pushed him through the bar exam when he would have given up. She was gorgeous, and fun, and bright. And he felt nothing when she kissed him. Zilch. Nada.
But when Melanie walked into the room, he could feel the air zap with energy, and the hairs on his arms stood at attention. He shook his head in defeat, disgusted with himself. Mitchel Stewart was mooning over a woman who shared his apartment because she wanted money. How trite!
Unfortunately, she wanted next to nothing to do with him personally. If he wanted her, he was going to have to make the first move, Mitch decided. But he wasn’t in love with her, he assured himself. He couldn’t love anyone. Not with a family history like his. What he could do was seize the moment, make the best of his time with Melanie.
“God is all-powerful, son,” he remembered his grandfather saying just days ago. “He can work in ways you don’t even know about. I know it was tough for you, but you’ve put your life in His hands now. Let Him show you what He has in store for you.”
“Well, God,” Mitch murmured, terribly self-conscious. “I don’t know what to do. I’m not the marrying type, you know that. And Melanie Stewart definitely is. All she talks about is families and children.” He stared at his hands before closing his eyes.
“Is it wrong for me to go out with her, date her, knowing that there isn’t any future in it?”
There wasn’t any answer. No still, small voice urged him to stay away from Melanie, and no one boomed, “Go for it!” in the silence of his apartment. Was it really so wrong to want to share a special meal with her, to share an evening that wasn’t filled with problems? No answers came.
Sighing, Mitch decided he would start tomorrow. He would ask her out to dinner. He would be charming and scintillating and all the other things men were supposed to be. He only hoped Melanie wouldn’t hurt herself laughing too hard.
“What did you say?” Melanie asked, staring at him, her head tipped to one side, as she considered his mental status. There had to be some reason for this abrupt change of mind.
“You heard me,” Mitch muttered. He stared straight at her with those turbulent blue eyes. “Will you have dinner with me tonight?”
“Why?” Melanie felt like a ship suddenly freed of its moorings. The only thing that remained calm in her crazy world was the steady regard of his inscrutable eyes, fastened intently on her face.
“Because I want us to.” He reached past her for the coffeepot. He drank thirstily before daring to face her again.
Melanie moved skittishly away from Mitch. He seemed different this morning. Sort of doggedly determined. And out of sorts, as usual. She eyed his rumpled T-shirt and baggy jogging shorts. Another ragged outfit.
“I suppose I could,” she temporized. Suddenly, suspicion moved in. “Is this about the money?” she demanded.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, I just asked you out for a simple dinner. Does Jeff have to go through all this to get a date?”
Melanie’s mouth hung open in astonishment. She was positive she hadn’t understood correctly. “A date? You are asking me for a date?”
“Yeah, a date. I’d like to remind you that you have been on one before, as I’ve had cause to notice. And no, I don’t want your advice to the lovelorn.” He frowned. “What’s so peculiar about going out with me?”
Mitch was affronted, Melanie could tell. And his patience was wearing thinner by the moment. Not that he appeared to have much tolerance for anyone or anything before nine o’clock, even on the best of days.
Well, why not? Melanie asked herself. She had wondered about him for long enough. Maybe they could talk civilly. Share a nice meal. Then he would open up about his past.
His dark hair glimmered in the shaft of sunlight falling through the kitchen window. Melanie noticed the way he leaned against the cupboard, tiredly rubbing the knot of tension in the back of his neck. She decided to help him out.
“Rough night?” she asked quietly, her fingers kneading the knot in his neck. She tugged on his arm. “Sit down. I can spare five minutes this morning.”
Melanie let her fingers press and poke, hearing his quiet moan when she found a knot of tension.
It was utterly unexpected, this sudden change of heart. Why would Mitch want to have dinner with her? Was there some reason he wasn’t telling her about?
Yeah, right, Melanie. Like he’s totally in love with you forever and ever. Get real!
She stifled the mocking voice and decided to take the plunge. You can’t define every single move you make in this life, she reprimanded her laughing subconscious.
“All right,” she agreed, hoping this meant a truce in their ongoing warfare. “I will have dinner with you. Where?”
Her arched eyebrows shot up when he mentioned a very prestigious restaurant in a nearby city. It was famed for its haute cuisine. She pondered, wondering if she could find something semiformal on her lunch hour.
But the real issue haunted her. It wasn’t like him. It wasn’t like him at all. And t
hat unnerved her more than anything. She stared at him suspiciously.
“What’s really going on, Mitch?” The question was automatic. And Melanie wished she hadn’t said a word when he pushed away from her and stood jerkily.
Mitch sloshed another cup of coffee into his mug before he glared at her. His eyes were an angry ice blue. He took one sip of the steaming black brew before thunking the coffee on the counter and crossing his arms.
“Nothing’s going on. I thought perhaps we could have a calm, cordial meal together for once, without biting each other’s heads off and without benefit of dear sweet Auntie Hope.” He jerked his head toward the bedroom door, where Hope had just disappeared to change her clothes.
“Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps we’ve gone as far as people like us can go.” The words were a stinging assessment of their relationship’s deterioration in the past few weeks.
Melanie felt guilty. Here he was trying to extend the olive branch, and she suspected his motives. She could at least meet him halfway, she decided.
“Well, I have a board meeting until around five, but I could be home shortly after that. Is that early enough to leave?” She tried to infuse warmth into her voice. Privately she wondered how they would survive the evening without scrapping through every course, but if he was willing to try, then so was she.
“If you’re sure you can make it,” Mitch answered brusquely, hitching up his jogging shorts before retrieving his coffee. “I think we should leave about six. I’ll make reservations for seven-thirty. That should give us enough time. Okay?”
He glanced at her, and Melanie nodded. A little prick of awareness twigged her consciousness. Something was strange, she thought, but perhaps she should try to meet Mitch halfway. Who knows? Maybe they did have something in common.
Anyway, it was just dinner. Yeah, right, her mind mocked. Just dinner with the most attractive guy she’d met in years. A man who, incidentally, was sharing her apartment. Or vice versa.
Melanie shook her head. This was getting too complicated. It was just a friendly, casual meal out together. That was all. They would be friendly and civil to each other, and she wouldn’t have to cook. Nothing more.