Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Charles

There were only two things I hated more than the Christmas season: death and taxes.

The idea stewed in my brain as I drove my Ram truck through town. If only it had snowed. At least then Jewel Cove would look nice and wintry. I could imagine plowing through the snow, sending it flying and showing that a truck was meant to be driven anywhere.

I pulled into the little parking lot next to Main Street. I was on an errand for my grandmother. We would be spending the next few weeks together for Christmas and New Year’s. My parents had passed away when I was young, leaving my grandparents to raise me and my three younger brothers.

My brothers were all deployed and my grandfather had passed away ten years ago, so it would just be the two of us this year. Strike that—it would be the four of us; my grandmother and I, plus Hazel, my grandmother’s live-in caregiver, and Henry, the cook and butler of my grandmother’s home. My home, I guess would be the appropriate term.

I stepped out onto Main Street, breathing in the salty air and pulling my coat tighter around me. Jewel Cove didn’t usually get this cold. It was in the upper forties despite the sunny weather, and with the humidity, I felt it.

Despite my dicey history with Jewel Cove, it was nice to be back. It had been home for Christmases and summers while I was growing up. During my brief marriage, I stayed in New York with my wife for Christmas, but I’d been coming back to Jewel Cove since the divorce. Sometimes my brothers came too, but mostly it was me and my grandmother.

Luckily, work was flexible. I pretty much ran the company my grandfather had built, King Enterprises. I could work anywhere. I always took over my grandfather’s old office when I was home. I thought he would’ve liked that; he’d raised me for it.

I paused at the bakery and stared at the chocolate muffins in the display window. They’d always been a weakness of mine. It was almost noon, but I’d skipped breakfast. I kept walking. I’d wait until after my purchase.

A sign caught my eye up ahead: “Doll Shop.” I’d spent years in and out of that shop as a kid. I thought about the girl I’d dated and laughed with and fallen in love with over those summers and Christmases.

Too bad she’d married another and broken my heart. Not to mention the fact I’d made a fool of myself at her wedding when I’d tried to stop it. She’d decided to have it in the little white church we’d always talked about getting married in. She’d looked so beautiful in her wedding dress. I’d found her before the ceremony had begun, and I’d pleaded for her to call it off and marry me. She hadn’t listened.

Years later, after I’d gotten married, the whole story had seemed silly and childish, like it was just part of the growing-up process—part of loving and losing and moving on.

Now, as I stared at the doll shop, I had to ask myself, What if?

Which was stupid, because I knew the woman I’d once loved was living in Colorado, and the shop was now owned by someone else. Grandmother had told me last Christmas about the shop owner passing away and the shop being sold. I’d been sad to hear it but hadn’t thought much of it.

Last year, I’d been preoccupied with the huge fundraiser my family was putting together in the name of my younger sister, who’d passed away when she was young. I’d overseen it, juggling dozens of responsibilities, and my personal past hadn’t mattered.

This year, though, I didn’t have all of that on my plate. Our family had hired a manager to handle all the details. Now, it was five days before Christmas, and the shop was lit up with cheery lights just like every year. I wanted to be happy that the little shop looked healthy and thriving, yet I could only think about the what-ifs from the past.

Of course, the ‘what if’ of my failed marriage stewed in the back of my mind. I blinked back the pain. Maybe I had failed my ex-wife. Or we’d both sort of failed one another. Nevertheless, one thought of failure led to a bundle of them, as Grandmother always said.

I sighed and tried to focus on the job in front of me: picking up the doll my grandmother had ordered. I didn’t understand why, in a day and age when everything could be shipped to your door, I had to pick it up at that store, but I’d do anything for my grandmother. I would get the doll, drop by the bakery to order chocolate muffins, and then go back to Grandmother’s and finish the deal I was working on. It would take me the rest of the day. Thank heavens. My work was all I had.

I stepped up to the door of the shop, trying to push away the memories of the past. When I grasped the doorknob, I was surprised to realize it had been replaced. The old one had always stuck when I’d turned it, and I’d have to push a little harder than normal to get inside. I knew this because of many late nights when I’d brought her back here and we’d laughed about how hard it was to get into the store.

I walked inside and was immediately comforted by the quaint atmosphere. Decorations were hanging up everywhere I looked, and soft Christmas music played in the background. I shut the door and looked around. It was like I’d walked back in time—like I had walked into this shop nineteen years ago.

Nobody was at the front counter, so I walked deeper into the store, noticing the Christmas dolls on display at the front. They were arranged in comfortable settings around Christmas trees and porcelain villages.

To be truthful, I thought the dolls were freaky. My grandmother loved the old tradition of collecting them, and she had a room full of dolls. I never went in there. I couldn’t help but laugh, thinking about how Grandmother would tease me about that. More than once, I’d told her that the doll room would be a better fit for a serial killer.

“Can I help you?” The voice was familiar, yet strange. “Sorry, I’ve been organizing some inventory.”

A woman emerged from the back.

Melody.

All I could do was stare at her. Shock coursed through me, and my mouth went dry. She wore a red Christmas dress that clung tightly to her thin frame. Her blonde hair was cut in a chic A-line. A lot of years had passed since I’d last seen her, but she still looked good.

Her eyes met mine, and she paused like she was frozen to the ground.

I didn’t know how long we simply stared at each other. It was clear that she recognized me. I didn’t think I’d changed much over the years, but nineteen years was a long time.

Suddenly, she blinked and swallowed hard. She pasted on an unfamiliar smile—one that made her look different, and all grown up. “Charles,” was all she said.

I felt reanimated, like someone had pressed start in a movie. “Melody? You’re here.”

She coughed and then strode toward me, holding out her hand as if I were just a random person she’d previously met. “Hi. Are you in town visiting your grandmother?”

I was slow on the uptake, but I reached out to shake her hand. “Just back for Christmas. Yes, to see Grandmother.”

Whether it was now or nineteen years ago or when we were children, her hand still felt the same. Or maybe it just felt the same to touch her. I wasn’t sure. Attraction sizzled through me.

I dropped her hand. “I thought the store was sold.” I took a step back, feeling off kilter and completely out of sorts. Which was strange for me. I’d served in the military, and I was the president and CEO of my own company. I negotiated deals all the time and never got nervous anymore.

A crack formed in her polite mask. She took a step back as well, and I wondered if she was attracted to me, too. “I decided to keep it.” She touched the lapel on her dress and moved toward the front. “What can I do for you?” Her voice was businesslike. Cool. Grown-up. It made me smile.

“You kept it,” I repeated. “I guess that’s good. How are you?”

She walked by the counter and shuffled through some paperwork. “I’m good.” She glanced up briefly, like I was much less interesting. “What can I do for you, Charles?”

She seemed to be avoiding my eyes.

Curious, I glanced at her left hand and noticed there was no ring. A million questions went through my mind. “I was … sorry to hear about your mother.” Why hadn’t I started with that?

She paused. “Thank you.” Her face stayed somber.

I cleared my throat. “Um, how’s Peter and your son?”

She met my eyes, looking quizzical. “They … they’re fine.”

I wanted to demand a breakdown of the last nineteen years. I wanted to interrogate her like I would’ve interrogated terrorists during my time in the military, though I sensed that would be the wrong course of action.

“Charles,” she said. “Why are you here?”

I shook my head. “Uh, Grandmother bought a doll, and she asked me to pick it up.”

A questioning look washed over her face, and then she moved to the other side of the counter and pulled a folder out of a drawer. “I didn’t realize your grandmother ordered something.” She skimmed through a list and then paused. “Oh. I guess she did. I didn’t realize.” She let out a polite laugh that sounded fake. “I’ll go get it and be right back.”

She hurried toward the back, and I couldn’t help but watch her. Why wasn’t she wearing a ring? Was she divorced? I knew her mother had passed away, and I distinctly remembered my grandmother telling me the store was being sold. Of course, I hadn’t said much about it; there’d been nothing to say.

Adrenaline spiked through me, and I looked around. From the way she’d looked for my order, she was still using the antiquated system that her mother had always used. She was clearly running the store.

I tried not to focus on the fact that she looked … well, good. She had taken care of herself, and she was attractive. Granted, it didn’t take much for me to be attracted to this woman. I had always been attracted to her. She would be turning thirty-nine in January, if I remembered correctly but she looked way younger than that.

If she was divorced, why hadn’t Grandmother told me that? She would know, of course.

My mind raced, and I remembered how she’d kept telling me that I had to come to the store for this order. She’d set me up. Melody walked back up to the counter with the package in a bag. “I found it.”

All I could do was watch her, study her. Her cheeks were a little red. Was she as nervous as I was? “That’s good, because Grandmother was insistent that I come here and pick up this package. Apparently, you don’t ship.”

She looked up in the middle of typing on a computer. “We don’t. My mother never quite got to that point, and I haven’t put that process in place yet. Sorry.” She turned back to the screen. “It looks like the total is six-hundred and fifty dollars. I’ll need to take payment before you go.”

I was jolted back to the task at hand. “Of course.” I pulled out my wallet and handed over my credit card. Our fingers brushed as she took it, and I felt the same sensation as when I’d shaken her hand earlier. All that old chemistry and attraction came rushing back.

She typed in the credit card number, leaving us in awkward silence. I searched for something to say.

“You’re back here?” I finally asked. “Full time?”

“Oh, yeah. A couple months now.” She kept her eyes on her work. “I was going to sell the store, but then decided to keep it.”

My heart raced. I wanted to ask more about why she was keeping it, but how could I do that without sounding like a jerk?

She completed the transaction, printed off my receipt, and offered it to me along with a pen. “You still have to sign it. I’m not that advanced.” She smiled briefly.

“That’s okay.” I signed the receipt and handed it back.

She took it, frowning when I didn’t let it go right away. Her eyes held mine.

“Melody, what happened?” Maybe it was the wrong question to ask. Maybe I would regret it. Whatever the case, I couldn’t leave without knowing.

She took the receipt and stuck it in the drawer, then printed the copy and stuck it in the bag. “I’d rather not talk about it. It’s been good to see you, Charles.” The fake smile was back. “Merry Christmas. Don’t hesitate to come back if you need another doll.” The smile flickered, replaced briefly by that genuine grin I’d known my whole life. “Because I’m sure you need another doll.”

If someone had gut-punched me, I would’ve been better off. Her smile affected me way too much. I wanted answers, but I could tell she was trying to keep it together.

I took the bag and nodded. “Okay. It was good to see you. Merry Christmas.”

I started to move toward the door, noticing again that it opened easily. If things were less tense, I would’ve commented that the door handle was nice. I turned back, and she was staring at me with a look I didn’t recognize. Somehow, I sensed that it meant she wanted me to leave.

I walked out the door and shut it behind me. Part of me wanted to walk back into that store and demand answers. The other part wanted to walk away and forget about Melody Harris … now Paine. I choked out a laugh, thinking that her new last name was fitting; she’d sure caused me a truckload of pain.

Having lost my appetite, I skipped the bakery and went straight to the parking lot. I got into my truck, determined to get answers from Grandmother at least.