It’s great for everybody else. The restaurant is doing better than it’s done in the last couple years. I know it’s all Mel. She’s fitting in great with the staff and they respect her in the kitchen. Melissa’s new menu has people coming back and taking her meals home by the carload. Everything she makes is an instant hit. I don’t know if she can maintain the quality for much longer. The fact that Mel isn’t putting on weight when I am is worrying because she eats as much as I do, and yet the jeans she arrived with are starting to hang on her because of the hours she’s working in at my restaurant.
My problem is that I haven’t locked her down yet. Melissa was the brave one when she told me how she felt. I need to be theone to make the next move, suggesting that we move this trial period into a permanent thing.
I need her to choose to stay with me in Lonesome. She has nothing to go back to in Chicago. No job. No man. No one to look after her, which she obviously fucking needs since her asshole ex and his soon-to-be ex are actively making her life miserable. I’m the only one who can handle her and the chaos she’ll continue to bring to our lives. Honestly, I kind of love it. I’m not willing to give it up. Or her.
Melissa is in the shower when Kat texts, telling her to call because there’s too much to type. I pull on my cut and step onto the back porch to make a call in the unseasonably warm March weather. “What?”
“Paula’s legal team is fighting us regarding submitting affidavits. They are requesting the judge require all witnesses to testify in person.”
“Is that normal?” I ask.
“Not at all. It’s a dickhead move that’s expensive for both parties. It will make for good drama on the society blogs. It sounds like that’s Paula’s goal. More scandal, more coverage, more free advertising for her restaurant. In tangentially related news, according to Bob’s lawyer, Bob is missing. Paula is making statements that stop just short of actually accusing Melissa of being responsible,” Kat reports. “It’s a shit show.”
“What do you mean Bob’s missing? Do they think that Paula did something to him? Do they thinkMelissadid something to him?” She certainly had reason to. She might grieve him for a while, but Mel would be better off if Bob did disappear. Not like this, though. Not leaving her in the crosshairs with the police and his soon-to-be ex.
I could do it cleaner.
“Off the clock speculation between me and Mel’s lawyer? He’s disappeared because he wants out. Since Paula got Melinvolved in the divorce proceedings, Mel’s lawyer is getting more of the details than normal. Bob used all his available cash after the divorce to buy into Paula’s share of Martinique. Now with Melissa gone and Paula calling some of the shots, the restaurant is not doing well. We think Bob realizes how badly he fucked up when he fucked Melissa over.”
“Do you think Bob is going to make a play to get Mel back?” Not like that would ever happen. Melissa’s too smart and too proud. That moron had her heart and loyalty in the palm of his hand and threw her away. She’s done with him. “He can’t fucking have her. She’s remarried. She’s mine.”
“Are you sure, Duck?”
“Absolutely.”
“Does Melissa feel the same way?”
“She does. I’ll let her know that you called. Bye, Kat.” After years of having my brothers’ backs, it’s time for them to return the favor. I need to convince Melissa to stay on my own. But they can sure as hell help when it comes to getting rid of her Bob and Paula problems.
I start the coffee, drop two slices of bread into the toaster, and pull out Melissa’s yogurt. I look around my kitchen. I take note of the burn marks on the laminate countertop by the stove, and of the cupboard door that doesn’t swing completely closed. This kitchen is fifty years old, and it shows. It’s fine for a single guy who doesn’t really cook, but Melissa will need more.
“I thought I heard my phone while I was getting out of the shower,” she says as she comes into the kitchen, shaking out her wild, brown hair.
“You did.” I bring her up to date.
She shows how in synch we are when she says, “Do they think thatIdisappeared Bob?”
“No, but Kat and I think you should keep your eyes open in case he shows up here.”
“That fucker better not come to Lonesome. I doubt he will. He’ll never willingly leave the big city.”
It’s a small opening, but I’ll take it. “How about you? Would you be happy if you left Chicago permanently?” We have to pick a place to live if we’re going to make this work. I don’t know if it’s selfishness, but I think we’d both be better off here. It’s not solely my decision.
“Leave Chicago for someplace smaller? Like Lonesome?”
“Like Lonesome,” I agree.
She takes a long drag of her coffee. “That’s two separate conversations, Duck. The professional side is easier to measure. There are a lot of pluses for staying here. You have a good business model for being in a town this size since you have a captive client base and no competition. Working with you and Mason is a hell of a lot easier than dealing with a conglomerate of owners all trying to put their fingerprints on my dishes. The downside is that I’d be limited by the tastes of the area which means I couldn’t get as funky as I like to on occasion.”
“You’re a genius in the kitchen. If anyone could find a way to get funky, it’s you.” We can make the restaurant work for her. “What about the personal side?” It’s a hell of an ask. Picking up and moving to a small town where she doesn’t know anyone means she’s risking absolutely everything.
“I love you, Duck. That’s not in question. But I’m forty years old. At twenty, you can jump blindly into a new place and still have a lifetime to recover from a few years wasted on a bad decision. You have friends and family here. I have you. If we’re wrong about us, this could break me.”
“I’m not wrong. In fact, I’m absolutely sure it’s the right move, Melissa. I love you. My friends and family will love you too. You’ve seen North Dakota in February. It all gets better from here. Although, as long as you’re with me, it’s already asgood as it can get.” I won’t ask for anything else as long as I live if she says she’ll stay.
Mel sets her coffee cup on the counter so she can slip her arms around my waist. “Just so we’re both on the same page professionally: the restaurant is yours and Mason’s, but the kitchen is mine with the proviso that I will put special requests on the menu.”
“I’ll clear it with my little brother.”
