Chapter Three

FROM THE ROAD, Rochester seemed like a nice place. The plan had been to call Samantha and pump her for information on exactly what was going on with the bookstore. Instead, they got caught up in reminiscing and gossiping. When Samantha found out Melanie had some free time on her hands, she begged and pleaded with her cousin to come and stay for a bit. Deciding that a road trip would be less depressing than sitting around in her empty apartment, Melanie finally agreed.

As Melanie cruised along in her Jeep Grand Cherokee in the warm June sunshine, the expressway took her directly through the heart of the city, which seemed to have everything; tall buildings, a baseball stadium, a river, even a brewery. According to Samantha, very few of the suburbs were that far from downtown. A nice set-up, Melanie thought as she followed Sam's directions to Webster.

Thirty minutes later, she pulled into the driveway shared by Samantha and the Rhodes family, her landlords.

The main structure was a big, yellow farmhouse, complete with white pillars holding up the open front porch and white shutters on each of the many front windows. Large, full trees, mostly maple, adorned the property, and Melanie couldn't help thinking of the Waltons. A brick walkway curved around from the porch to the driveway, which led to a matching two-car garage with a red Honda parked in front of it. Just beyond the garage and off to the right a hundred or so yards away was a small, cottage-like structure, decorated in the same colors and design as the main house. She followed the driveway around to the cottage, as her cousin had instructed her.

As Melanie pulled the Jeep to a stop in front of the small house, the front door flew open and Samantha bellowed, " Mellie! "

She caught Melanie in a hug before she even got both feet out of the Jeep. " God, it's been a long time, " she said, squeezing her cousin hard. " Let me look at you." She held Melanie at arm's length and looked her up and down. " My God, Baby Cousin, you look terrific."

" I bet, " Melanie scoffed, running a self-conscious hand through her rust-colored hair. " Ten hours in a car always brings out the best in me." She smiled lovingly at her cousin. " It's good to see you, Sammi."

Samantha was a classic example of somebody able to get by on looks alone, although she was by no means dumb. Melanie was an extremely attractive woman, but she always felt mousy next to Sam. Standing two inches taller than Melanie, Samantha was blonde and tanned and could have easily blended in on the set of Baywatch. She was the stereotypical Blonde Bombshell, but rather than try to fight the brainless beauty stigma, she embraced it and taught herself to manipulate it. As much as Melanie despised the idea of somebody who didn't work for what they wanted, there was the tiniest hint of admiration for the way Samantha just flat out used what she had to get what she desired. She had become very good at it.

" I'm so glad I was able to talk you into visiting. How long do you want to stay? " Sam asked as she helped unload the Jeep.

" I'm not sure yet. Let me know if you get sick of me before I make up my mind."

" Nonsense. You're welcome to stay forever. Come on in and I'll show you around."

TAYLOR RHODES WATCHED from the kitchen window as the black Jeep pulled into the driveway and around to Sam's place.

She dried her hands on a flowered towel, vaguely remembering Samantha saying something about her cousin coming to visit, and put away the breakfast dishes she'd left behind earlier. Saturday morning breakfasts had become sort of a tradition between Taylor and her father, Ben, since she moved back home two years previously after the death of her mother.

She wiped down the counter and folded the towel over its rack. Picking up a can of Pepsi, she leaned back against the sink and looked around the open, sunny kitchen, allowing herself to be transported back to simpler days when her mother baked cookies and Taylor had nothing to worry about except coming in from her woodland fort in time to scrape the bowl of batter.

There was so much of her mother in this room. True, the entire house reflected Anna Salvaggio Rhodes, but the kitchen had been her domain. From the white, ruffled valences on the windows to the various knick-knacks and framed prints on the walls, the kitchen was pure Anna. Taylor could still see her bustling around, humming Neil Diamond or Barbra Streisand completely off-key, her unruly dark hair trying desperately to escape from the clip fastening it behind her head, wiping her flour-covered hands on the apron she wore faithfully every day, like a uniform. It infuriated Taylor, the talk these days that criticized women without a career, women who chose to stay home with their children. Housewives. Taylor hated that word. Keeping the household running smoothly, being available for either Taylor, her big brother Frankie, or Ben, cooking, cleaning, laundry, shopping, sewing, gardening. How could anybody say that wasn't a full-time career?

Anna was President and CEO of Rhodes, Inc. That was all there was to it. Taylor was fiercely proud of what her mother had represented. She just wished she had taken the time to at least mention it to Anna when it would have mattered.

Trouble was, Taylor had been on the side of those hurling the criticism for a long, long time. She knew it wasn't uncommon for a woman of the 90s to be embarrassed by a woman of the previous generation who chose family and home over education and success in business, but that didn't make it any easier now that her mother was gone.

She sighed, the sad, weary sigh of one that knows she never said the things she should have while she had the chance.

The jingling of the telephone cut through Taylor's guilt and brought her back to the present. She picked it up, watching out the window as Samantha and her cousin unloaded the Jeep. " Hello? "

" Tay? "

Taylor closed her eyes, cursing herself for not just letting it ring. " Maggie."

" Hi." The voice on the line was soft and unsure, with a slight crack, as if the speaker could burst into tears at any moment. Taylor knew the tone well. She had dubbed it the Morning After voice. It was the inflection Maggie's voice took on when she had tied one on, said or done something stupid the night before, and was trying to make up for it. Although they hadn't been together the night before, or in several weeks for that matter, it was still obvious to Taylor that Maggie had been drinking recently.

" Hi."

" How are you, Tay? "

" I'm fine." Taylor chose her words carefully, not wanting to invite a prolonged conversation.

" Good. That's good." There was a long, awkward pause. " I miss you. I miss you so much."

Here we go, Taylor thought. " Maggie..."

" Honey, I know I screwed up. I can change. I can." Maggie’s voice was pleading now, pathetic. " You were right. I know that now. I just miss you so much. I love you. I need you. Please, Taylor."

Months ago, even weeks ago, conversations like this would cut right through to Taylor's soul, corralling all the possible guilt and hope available within her and combining it into forgiveness and willingness to give it another shot. And another. And another. Again and again, she would agree to allow Maggie another chance to stop drinking, get some professional help for her depression and make their relationship work. It had taken almost three years, but Taylor had finally realized that no matter how much she tried to help, no matter how much she hoped or prayed or begged, nothing would ever change with Maggie. After several failed attempts, she had finally managed to make a clean break, at least in her own mind.

" Maggie, " she said firmly. " We've been through this a hundred times. You have got to stop calling me."

" I can't." Maggie was crying openly now. Instead of sympathy, Taylor could feel her anger building and worked hard to push it back down.

" Pull yourself together, " she ordered. " This is ridiculous. You're not hurting anybody but you here, Maggie. We are no longer a couple, do you understand me? "

" Taylor, please."

Taylor shut her eyes against the pain in the voice imploring her for another chance. This pitiful, childlike begging was something Taylor always had a difficult time fighting. It was usually at this point that she gave in and took Maggie in her arms, crying with her, holding her, rocking her, murmuring reassurances that everything would be okay. She swallowed hard, barely able to find her voice.

" I have to go." She hung up the phone quietly. After a couple of seconds, she took the handset off the hook and let it dangle, the dial tone changing to an angry beeping as she went out to the backyard and slid back into an Adirondack chair with a weary sigh.

" THIS PLACE IS really something, Sammi." Melanie was pleasantly surprised by the taste and class with which her cousin had surrounded herself. " When you said you were living in a carriage house on somebody else's property..." She left the sentence unfinished, mildly embarrassed by her initial expectations.

" You were thinking run-down trailer park, weren't you? " Samantha accused with a grin.

" ‘Fraid so. Sorry."

" No problem, Baby Cousin. Beer? "

" Absolutely."

Samantha's carriage house was cozy and comfortable, small, but not stifling. Melanie took in the earthy colors, smiling at the warmth they created. The front door opened into the small living room where a natural-colored couch sat against the front wall beneath a large picture window, through which the afternoon sun shone in all its brilliance, making the room seem much bigger than it actually was. Soft, fluffy pillows of rust, yellow, and various shades of brown were strewn about the couch, as well as the hardwood floor and the matching oversized chair that sat against the opposite wall. There was a handmade afghan folded neatly over the back of the chair, and a halogen floor lamp stood commandingly behind it. Melanie immediately pictured herself tucked under the afghan, her feet stretched onto the chair's ottoman, a cup of tea on the end table and a good book in her hand.

" Here ya go."

Melanie was brought back from the lazy Sunday afternoon in her mind by a stinging cold bottle against her bare shoulder. She took it from her cousin and swallowed a healthy swig of the ale.

" The colors in here are beautiful, " she commented.

" Aren’t they? Ben's wife was quite the decorator, from what I understand."

" Ben? "

" Yeah. Ben Rhodes. My landlord." She pointed out the window toward the main house. " He lives there."

" So, you didn't do this? " Melanie gestured at the room, trying to hide her disappointment. She should have known that Samantha hadn't done the decorating. Too time consuming for her.

" Are you kidding? I don't have the patience for interior design, " she snorted, as if reading Melanie's mind. " Ben's wife did it just a couple months before she died."

" His wife died? "

" Yeah. Couple years ago. Car accident, I think."

" So he lives in that big house all by himself? "

" No, his daughter Taylor lives there, too. She moved back home after her Mom's death to look out for him. Wait 'til you meet him.

He's a doll." She gently tugged on Melanie's arm. " Come on, I'll show you the rest of the place... what little there is."

There was no denying that the carriage house was small, but Melanie continued to marvel at the decorating. The tiny kitchen, the cozy bedroom and even the bathroom each radiated its own personality and charm. The colors all blended perfectly, from the deep greens of the bathroom to the lighter sage of the bedroom. Nothing stood out on its own. Everything blended into the rest of the items in the room as if they were not separate objects, but simply pieces of something on a grander scale. The effect was beautiful and incredibly calming. Melanie felt immediately at ease in this place, so far from the hustle and bustle of her office, not to mention her barely furnished apartment.

" That's it. Tour's over."

" It's beautiful, Sam. Really."

Samantha smiled, showing perfect white teeth. " Thanks. The couch pulls out into a bed, so that will be your room."

" What, I don't get to have a slumber party in your bedroom like when we were little? " Melanie joked.

" Not if I've got company, Baby Cousin." She winked. " I'm up for almost anything, but a threesome with you isn't one of them."

TAYLOR WAS JUST about to head inside when she noticed Samantha and her cousin rounding the back corner of the garage, walking in her direction. They were both laughing, carrying half-empty bottles of beer. Samantha stopped in mid-sentence when she saw Taylor lounging in the redwood chair.

" Hey, girl, " she called, scrambling toward Taylor and plopping sideways into her lap, her feet dangling over the arm of the chair.

Taylor couldn't help but smile. " Take me away from here. Please, " Samantha drawled in a painfully bad southern accent, laying the back of her hand across her forehead in mock woe.

" You tell me where and when, my little sugar dumplin', " Taylor drawled back.

" Ah, you couldn't handle me, " Sam laughed with a wave of her hand and climbed back to a standing position. She held out her beer. " Sip? "

Taylor took the offered bottle and chugged the remainder of the contents, handing it back to Samantha empty. " Bull dyke." Sam sneered.

" Hardly."

At the sound of a discreetly clearing throat, they both turned. Sam smacked her hand against her forehead. " Duh. Where are my manners? Taylor, this is my cousin Melanie Larson. Mel, this is my friend and pushover, Taylor Rhodes. She lives here."

They shook hands, both impressed by the firmness of the other. Melanie smiled warmly at the dark-haired young woman.

" Pushover? "

" Just because Sam can have anything she wants from me at any time, no matter what, she thinks that makes me a pushover.

Frankly, I don't see how."

Melanie laughed, tucking her hair behind her ear. " Pleased to meet you. This is a beautiful place you've got here."

" Thanks. How long are you staying? "

Melanie and Sam exchanged glances. " We're not sure yet, " Samantha offered. " She just left her job, and I'm going to try to convince her to hang out for a while and enjoy the summer."

" Really. What do you do? " Taylor asked.

" Well, I was in marketing for a pretty large firm—" She was cut off by Samantha's upheld hand.

" No. Don't even start with the job talk, 'cause I'll never see the two of you again." She pinched Taylor's cheek. " Let me have her for a while. Hey, wait. Why don't you come to dinner tonight? Rob's coming. We'll have a foursome. 'Kay? "

" Rob? " Melanie asked.

" Flavor of the Month, " Taylor confided.

" Hey." Samantha slapped Taylor playfully on the arm. " I just invited you to dinner. Be nice."

Coming to the realization that if she were not home, she wouldn't be forced to field any more phone calls from Maggie, Taylor accepted, promising to bring wine. She left the pair to continue their tour of the Rhodes property and went inside, watching them out the kitchen window.

Melanie was nothing like her cousin, but Taylor liked that. Physically, she was smaller and seemed to have a more classic look.

Where Samantha was very Hollywood, with the blonde hair, big breasts, year-round tan, and constant make-up, Melanie seemed more sophisticated, almost a level above what Hollywood said was attractive. Her hair was a very unique shade of rust and cut in a simple, professional style...one length, reaching about to her collar. She didn't have the voluptuous figure Sam did, but she was definitely feminine in all the right places. Her curves and shapely legs hadn't escaped Taylor's attention. Next to Sam, Melanie seemed paler than she actually was, and Taylor was willing to bet she'd never even seen a tanning bed. Her soft, pretty face had been virtually free of make-up, but her big, blue eyes had stood out just the same. Taylor guessed she was around the same age as Sam, although she seemed years more mature, which would put her in her mid-thirties or so. Sam had never given Taylor an exact age, claiming it would destroy the mystery. Melanie was definitely more professional, and Taylor was surprised to find herself looking forward to dinner. It would be nice to talk to somebody in a similar field of employment.

Feeling infinitely better than she had an hour before, she bounded upstairs to gather her workout paraphernalia and headed to the gym.