Jennifer Snow - The Mistletoe Melody

“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 his blond hair. He turned toward the bar, and when his gaze met hers, it looked panicked. What was Brad Monroe doing in Brookhollow? He hadn’t come home for Christmas or for anything else, much to her relief, in three years. Now here he was, on one of her worst days, standing right in front of her, bringing the day down to a whole new level of awful.

No one moved. No one spoke for a long moment.

Heather broke the silence. “He shouldn’t be here,” she hissed to Victoria.

“I know. We’re leaving.” She looked at Melody. “We didn’t expect you to be here, Mel.” Her tone was apologetic.

Tearing her gaze from Brad’s and remembering to breathe, Melody said, “No, it’s okay, really. Stay.” The words were said through clenched teeth. She picked up three menus and slapped them onto the counter in front of Victoria. The bar was a public place, after all. Brookhollow was Brad’s hometown—this had been bound to happen someday. She’d have preferred it not be today, but she refused to give Brad Monroe the satisfaction of seeing her become frazzled by his sudden appearance.

“No, Mel, we don’t want to upset you...” Victoria stammered. The men were still standing near the door.

Mel forced a cold smile. “Do I look upset? Please stay.”

Victoria hesitated before shaking her head. “Okay, I guess we will.”

Melody watched as Victoria approached the men, said something and practically dragged them to a booth in the corner. She slid her damp palms down her black apron and steadied her shaky knees as she went around the side of the bar.

“Where are you going?” Heather blocked her path.

“To take their order.”

“No way. I can’t believe you even let him stay. And that’s my table, anyway, so get back behind the bar.

“Seriously, Heather, I’ve got this. I’m fine,” she said firmly.

Heather touched her arm. “No one’s buying it, Mel.”

Why should they? She was not fine. Her life was slowly unraveling, and Brad Monroe’s appearance had just severed the last remaining tie.

* * *

“I THOUGHT YOU said the coast would be clear,” Brad said to Luke as he watched Melody and the other bartender talking across the room. Her cold, hard stare had rattled him. His worst nightmare had come true.

“I thought it would be,” Luke said. He helped Victoria remove her coat and hang it on the side of the booth. “Uh-oh, that’s Heather coming to serve us. She’s Vic’s New York friend.”

“She and Mel have grown close, but don’t worry, her bark is worse than her bite,” Victoria said quickly. She slid into the booth next to her husband just as Heather stopped in front of the table.

“Are you crazy, Luke?” were Heather’s first words.

“Hi, Heather. Nice to see you, too,” he said.