The Mistletoe Melody. Jennifer Snow
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The million-dollar question. The recording was scheduled to be done in three days, and he’d planned to leave as soon as they finished. He knew in three days, he’d probably see a lot of old faces, but he hoped to avoid as many confrontations as possible. He doubted Patrick’s family and friends had forgiven him for the accident. Hell, he hadn’t forgiven himself. And he didn’t want his presence in town to ruin anyone’s holiday season. “Just a few days,” he answered.
“Well, I hope you weren’t planning to leave without playing a few rounds of pool.”
“Of course not.” He checked the time on the dash. It was after seven already. His niece and nephew would probably be in bed. One quick game with Luke might be just what he need before facing his family. He wasn’t sure what kind of welcome they’d give him after him being away for three years and now expecting them to go along with this publicity stunt. He swallowed yet another pang of guilt. Yep, he was definitely too chicken to go home just yet.
“‘NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS.’ Can you believe he said that?” Melody asked, hanging a tangled set of white Christmas lights on the mirror behind the bar. If she’d had her way, they would have been in the trash can. But the bowling alley’s owner, Mr. Ericksen, who lived just outside of Brookhollow and rarely visited the bar, had of course decided to make an appearance earlier that day and had wondered why the festive decorations had yet to be hung. With the week she was having, Melody marveled at her restraint in not telling the older man where he could put his decorations.
“Kids are getting lippier all the time,” Heather said, pouring several beers for the over-sixty men’s bowling league, their only patrons on the slow Monday night. “I’m just so disappointed you didn’t get to finish that exam. It sounds like you were doing well. And you’re sure you have to wait three months before writing it again?”
“That’s what my boss’s assistant said when I called this afternoon, but I’m not done trying to convince them otherwise,” she said. She climbed down from the bar stool, only to notice the string of lights wasn’t straight. “Seriously, these lights are going to be the death of me.”
“Here, let me do it.” Heather moved Melody aside.
“Thanks,” Melody muttered. “I’m not exactly in a fa-la-la kind of mood.” After the events with David, she hadn’t had much time to think about the consequences of not finishing the exam that afternoon, but now she was desperate to come up with a way to save her family’s home. Christmas was the furthest thing from her mind. “I was hoping to be done working here this week.” That wouldn’t be happening now, and that meant fewer shifts for Heather, who’d mentioned her own savings were quickly depleting from her lack of steady work.
“Hey, don’t sweat it,” Heather said. “I’m not kicking you out.” She studied Melody for a long moment. “I know this may be a dumb question given the day you’ve had, but are you okay?”
Melody knew where the question was coming from. Normally, these small setbacks were things she could deal with. The challenges of raising the boys on her own or working hard and long to make ends meet were things she dealt with every day. Obviously, Heather could sense there was more she wasn’t disclosing. Melody hesitated, not sure whether to mention the foreclosure. The two women had grown close in the three months that Heather had been in Brookhollow, and Melody already counted her among her good friends. “Can I tell you something?”
“Without everyone in Brookhollow finding out by morning? Of course.”
“I got a foreclosure notice from the bank today.”
Heather’s face fell as she slid off the stool. “That’s awful, Mel. I’m so sorry... And now the promotion...”
Melody nodded. “Yeah, I’m in a tight spot.” She leaned against the bar. Exhausted and defeated, she barely had enough energy to hold herself up. “They’ve given me until January 1,” she said through a yawn. “And honestly, I have no idea what to do. I don’t think I can physically work any more hours, and with Christmas coming up...” In the past few years, when met with adversity, she’d always figured something out. But in this case, she wasn’t sure she could. Thirty-two-hundred dollars for the mortgage might as well have been a million. She could work twenty-four hours a day for the rest of December and still come up short.
“I know you may not like what I’m about to suggest, but have you considered asking your parents for a loan?”
She had considered it a hundred times that day. She’d also dismissed it a hundred times. The day she’d married a broke musician, she’d given up her right to her family’s financial support. Besides, her parents weren’t exactly rich. They just lived within their means. Going to them looking for a handout was out of the question. Hadn’t she been the one to say she could take care of herself and the boys? And after David’s suspension, the last thing she wanted was a lecture about her parenting skills. “I can’t.”
“They are your family. They are supposed to help you...to support you,” Heather insisted.
“They would if I asked, but I have my pride, you know,” Melody replied. “They didn’t approve of Patrick, or of us buying that old house. I can’t bear the thought of them saying, ‘I told you so.’ I’d have to admit to having made mistakes.”
“It wasn’t any mistake of your own that landed you in this situation, Mel,” Heather said.
No, it was Brad Monroe’s mistake that had caused her life to start spiraling out of control. “Anyway, I’m sure I’ll figure this out... I do have a few options.” A few options she’d never been in a tough enough spot to consider until now.
She saw Luke and Victoria walk in, and noticed the buttons on Victoria’s coat were undone. The pretty blonde co-owner of the Brookhollow Inn was the definition of a blushing bride—though Melody suspected her new glow was from something else entirely. “When is Vic going to tell everyone she’s pregnant?” she whispered to Heather. She waved to the couple, her troubles momentarily put aside.
Heather laughed. “She won’t even admit it to me. I think she’s terrified to say it out loud.”
“Well, she can only hide it for so long,” Melody said as Victoria approached her, a worried frown on her face.
Luke waited by the door. He opened it every few seconds to glance outside.
“Hey, Victoria. What’s up with him?” Melody nodded toward Luke.
“Oh, nothing. We just stopped in to say hi, but we’re probably not going to stay. I, uh, thought you were done here at the bar.” Victoria kept glancing nervously toward the door.
“That wasn’t a sure thing...”
“She didn’t trust me to work here alone just yet,” Heather said, coming to her rescue. “You okay, Vic?”
The front door opened again, and Victoria didn’t have time to answer, as all three women turned toward it.
Luke’s eyes widened and Heather gaped, but Melody stood frozen, calmly fighting her desire to escape the room as soon as Brad Monroe entered it, dusting snowflakes from