Living Lies (9 page)

Melanie nodded.
Don’t do it
, she told herself.
You cannot invite him.

“If you want,” she took two steps, cutting their distance in half. “If you don’t mind, I mean, would you like to come?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

His smile was almost worth the inevitable torture.

Her warnings had fallen on deaf ears.

She had been fair when she cautioned him about her mother’s cooking and how none of her girlfriends had ever returned for a second Sunday dinner. Even as she described her mother’s quirky ways and her inability, yet undying determination, to prepare an edible meal for her family, Danny was undeterred.

“You’re sure?” Melanie asked Danny outside the front door of her parent’s house. “We could still make a break for it.”

“Baby, I’m sure,” he said, cupping her face in his hands and pulling her gently toward him.

“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The front door was unlocked, as usual. Danny followed her from the entry hall and through the swinging door into the kitchen. Her mom was leaning against the Formica counter, pots and pans in disarray on the stove behind her. Melanie wondered if he could smell that something was amiss.

“Hi, Mom.”

Rita looked up from her cookbook.

“Hi, Honey,” her expression was puzzled as her eyes fixed on Danny.

Melanie had known when she called to let her mom know she was bringing a friend that Mrs. Ward assumed it was one of the girls.

“This is my friend Danny.”

“Boyfriend,” Danny corrected.

A smile stretched across Mrs. Ward’s face as she placed her glasses on the counter.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Danny. Do you go to school with Melanie?’

“Yeah, we’re in a lot of the same classes.”

“Well, welcome. Excuse me,” she said softly before turning. “Bruce Alexander Ward, what in the world do you think you are doing?” She said, punctuating each syllable with a note of abhorrence.

“Wha?” Bruce pulled his head out of the refrigerator, a can of beer in each hand.

“What are you doing? Can’t you see we have company?”

“Oh, sorry. Hey man, would you like a beer?”

Melanie chuckled.

“You know that is
not
what I meant.” Rita’s lips were drawn into a straight, hard line.

“Thanks, but…” Danny started.

“Oh, go ahead. But Bruce, this is your last, understand?” Mrs. Ward’s words had an angry edge.

Bruce tossed a cold can to Danny and fetched another one. “For Dad!”

“Why don’t you kids go and visit with your father?” Mrs. Ward went back to flipping through the pages of the picture cookbook. She looked concerned as her finger traced over a list of ingredients.

“Something smells great, Mrs. Ward.”

Melanie looked from her mother to Danny and then back again. Rita’s lips parted into a wide, pleased, smile.

“Thank you. And please, call me Rita.”

Melanie and Danny exited the side door that opened to a short hall leading to the garage, laundry room and a short cut to the living room.

“That was very sweet what you did for my mom.”

“Well, your brother seemed to tick her off.”

The living room, in the back of the house, had floor-to-ceiling windows, giving the illusion that the room was an extension of the outdoors. The scent from Roger’s rose garden seemed ever-present to Melanie, even in the heart of winter, when the blossoms had been cut back and the plants themselves were dormant. The room, with its comfortable, lived-in feel, was where she could usually find her dad, sitting in his Barcalounger watching a sporting event. Today was no different.

Bruce was literally on the edge of his seat, his butt almost floating above the cushion of his chair, as ESPN blared. On the small end table between him and the recliner sat the opened cans of beer, a remote and the current TV Guide.

“Hi, Daddy,” Melanie said, stepping between her father and the television and leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

Her dad’s smile was warm, but she knew better than to stand in front of the TV for too long.

“Hi, Annie, how’s school?” Her father asked not looking up from the game.

“Hasn’t started yet,” Melanie laughed, “but I’d like you to meet Danny.”

Melanie stepped aside so Danny could come forward.

“Hello, sir.”

Danny extended his hand.

“Danny, eh?” Roger lifted himself only inches from his seat. “So, do you like sports?” Daring to take his eyes off the screen for only a few seconds to size up the boy his daughter had brought to dinner.

Melanie hadn’t considered that Danny was nervous, until she felt his body relax.

“Love sports.”

“Great, have a seat.”

Bruce yelled, uselessly at the screen. And Melanie foresaw a new favorite team in her brother’s near future. He never had the staying power, fluctuating his loyalties behind whichever team was winning.

“I’m partial to the Broncos.” Danny admitted.

“Good, Colorado is a good state.”

“My dad likes West Coast teams. He feels that there isn’t enough representation west of the Mississippi.”

Roger began listing off teams and going in depth as to his beliefs of corruption and political unevenness. Melanie, having heard this hypothesis many times, turned to Bruce.

“Where’s your girlfriend?”

“The same place Danny will be next weekend – at home.” They laughed.

“Well, she seems nice.”

“Yeah? I’m breaking up with her.”

“Figures.”

“Hey, I can’t be tied down. I’m in my prime.”

For a moment the memory of Malik crossed her mind.

“You know, Bruce, a little humility wouldn’t hurt you.”

“When you’re this good, Mel, it’s tough to be humble.”

“You mean 15 pounds overweight, out of shape and with a C average?”

“Shut up.”

“You get winded going up a flight of stairs.”

“Shut up.”

“You shut up. Don’t be an ass.”

“Okay, dinner is ready.” Mrs. Ward invited everyone into the dining room, where five places were set with the Ward wedding china, which was used every Sunday.

Once the family was seated and thanks were given, Mrs. Ward doled out heaping spoonfuls of what Melanie recognized to be lasagna.

“I know, Melanie said you two have already eaten. But I think Danny might be hungry,” Rita was delighted to add an extra scoop and passed the plate to Danny.

“Thank you, Rita. I’m starving.”

Melanie sat quietly, gazing across the beautifully decorated table. Everything was meticulously presented, even the bowl of mixed vegetables was displayed in fine china. But the façade was broken by the crystallized ice that was melting, separating the frozen peas from the frozen cubed carrots.

“Thank you for inviting me to dinner,” Danny said.

He had flown across the near-vacant freeway, zooming around the red tail lights of slower traffic. She reached for Danny’s hand to distract herself from the lasagna that sat heavily in her stomach. He didn’t slow as the off ramp approached and darted through the residential streets toward her apartment building.

“I’m not sure how I’m going to get you out of next week.” Her mind was already working on strategies.

But Danny had agreed when Rita suggested he return the following Sunday, making Melanie’s job that much more difficult.

“Why would you have to?”

“You were serious about enjoying dinner?” Melanie looked at Danny with curiosity.

Danny had been incredible. He’d charmed Rita by complimenting her food and he’d been a hit with Roger.

“I had a good time with your family.”

The Jeep parked with a jolt as Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride came to an end outside of Melanie’s apartment.

“But you didn’t
like
the food, right?”

“Does it matter?” he asked, chuckling.

“Only if you want me to consider you sane.”

“No, I didn’t like the food, but it’s a small price to spend another evening with you.” He stroked the side of her jaw and followed down her neck. “Do you mind if I don’t come up?”

“Tired?”

“Yeah, Coach kicked my ass.”

“I don’t mind,” Melanie said, inching closer to him.

Caressing his face she began kissing him softly, slowly.

“Maybe I can come in for a few minutes.”

Melanie smiled.

“No, you’d better go. I didn’t mean to tease.”

“Yes, you did. Come on, I’ll walk you to your door.”

The students had arrived. Loud, obnoxious and partially dressed teens swarmed the halls. She wouldn’t miss any of them.

“I’ll see you in class tomorrow,” Melanie said at her door.

Danny grinned. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”

“’Night.”

Melanie fell asleep easily with those words ringing in her ears, “Goodnight, Sweetheart.” They were still there when she awoke in the morning. It was the first day of her last semester, and Melanie was floating on air.

Danny was in her second class of the day. She took a typical Melanie seat, second row center. The smallish classroom with dingy white walls, green chalkboard along the front, a desk for the teacher and an assembly of aluminum chairs fitted with lap tables set in crooked rows was completely standard.

Attempting to chat with the other finance majors, she waited … aware of her pounding heart, as she watched for Danny.

“Hello, class. I expect everyone had a restful break,” Professor McMillion, said dropping her canvas saddlebag on her desk.

Professor Loretta McMillion was one of Melanie’s favorites.

She wore her brown hair in a short bob and always, always dressed

in long, flowing gauze broomstick skirts. In the spring she would trade her clogs for leather sandals with toe cuffs and straps that wound up her legs.

Melanie felt her heart lurch as the door opened and Danny walked in, handsome and confident. His backpack casually slung over his shoulder, she noticed his eyes scanning the room. Today, he was actively looking for her.

“Dan, hey man.”

“Hey, Kevin good to see you.”

“Well, it’s nice of you to join us Mr. Ashe. Maybe, you wouldn’t mind taking a seat so we can get started.”

“Sorry, Professor,” Danny said, adjusting his backpack.

“I saved you a seat over here, Dan.”

“Thanks, Patty, but I see my girl over there,” Danny said, smiling at Melanie.

“Sorry I’m late,” he whispered with a quick kiss. “You look beautiful.”

Melanie ignored the murmurs.

“Okay, now that Mr. Ashe is settled, let’s begin,” she said coolly. But the wrinkles between her eyebrows gave a hint of disapproval.

CHAPTER 6

One Sunday evening, as they left her parents’ house, Danny draped his arm across her shoulders. “That was the worse meal yet. She said it was catfish, right?” Danny never complained about Rita’s cooking. He’d politely, even kindly eaten the unpalatable.

It’d taken much longer than Melanie thought possible, he had an iron stomach – but finally it was the catfish.

“I don’t want to say anything about your mom, Mel, but…” He shook his head. “When we’re making enough money we’re hiring a cook so we never have to eat like that again.” Danny pulled her to him roughly and kissed the side of her face as he opened the Jeep door for her.

His right eye was ringed in deep purple and the corner of his bottom lip was mending from a split.

“I love you, Melanie.” He said, casually as if he expressed it everyday.

“Danny,” she exhaled and the tears that quickly rimmed her eyes overflowed. “I love you, too.”

Waiting with Carla outside of Ted’s office building, Melanie was surprised when Danny and Coach emerged from the double glass doors.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“Petitioning for new uniforms.”

“Ashe, wipe that stupid grin off your face,” Coach griped as he walked off. “Practice is at 3, don’t be late.”

“You got it, Coach,” Danny laughed.

“Where are you off to?” Melanie asked.

“I was gonna get a bite. You guys wanna come?”

“I do,” Melanie stood. Glancing at Carla, “Ted could be another hour.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

Butterflies flitted around the vibrant flowers lining the cement walkway, parading, chasing each other around the bright marigolds. Love was in the air.

“No one’s at the apartment right now,” Melanie suggested. “Unless you’re too hungry.”

“Was I hungry?”

Melanie shrugged.

“I’ll race you.”

Melanie laughed, and offered her conditions. “You give me a 10-second head start and carry my backpack.”

She tossed her bag into his arms and sprinted away. She loved the ease of their relationship. Danny made everything better.

“Mel!”

“Danny?” He sounded strange.

“Mel, they called. They’re making an offer. Holy Shit, they’re making an offer!” His laugh cracked.

“Which team?” Her heart raced.

“The Knights. I’m going to New York.”

“Oh my God, Danny. That’s perfect,” her post-college destination, Wall Street.

“I know. Let’s celebrate. Marry me, we could make it to Vegas in by ten.” He was speaking loud and fast, full of adrenaline.

Melanie froze, confused. “I was thinking dinner.”

“Yeah, that’s probably best,” he said. Melanie wondered if he had seriously just proposed – and if he had, had she just turned him down? “You were my first call. I’ll pick you up tonight … pack for overnight.”

Melanie stood speechless, clinging to a dead receiver. He was gone.

All she had was a gym bag and her hands shook with each oddity she dropped inside.

“Car?” she asked, scared. “Are you really going to marry Ted?” Melanie looked into Carla’s wide expression.

“Of course! I mean I know I’ve been complaining about Helen and Ruth. They’re trying to be helpful – it’s just so much easier for them to make the wedding arrangements, they’re in Boston. And so what if they want to choose the dress? It’s really very sweet. Don’t you think?” As their eyes locked, her face twisted. “You don’t think Ted thinks I’m changing my mind … did he say something to you?”

“NO!” Melanie practically shouted. “No, Car, I was just wondering out loud – I’m sorry.”
Crap!

It was too late. Carla was in a panic.

“I’ve got to call Ted.” Her fingers were already dancing over the familiar digits.

“Mel, Dan is here,” Jenny yelled from the living room.

Melanie eyed Carla, “You okay?”

“Go,” Carla commanded.

Melanie jogged, jumping into Danny’s arms.

“Can you believe it?” He squeezed her tight enough to bow her ribs.

“Of course I can, I’ve always believed in you.”

He stopped, beamed a heartbreaking smile and pulled her out the door.

“Where are we going?” She laughed, being shoved into the passenger seat.

“You’ll find out.” He planted a kiss on the side of her face.

Today, he spoke as fast as he drove.

“Wait, Danny, I think you went the wrong way.” He was turning off at her parents exit.

“I didn’t.” He reached over to take her hand. “I’ve been seeing this place every Sunday for months.” He bumped the tires on the curb as he parked in front of the picturesque hotel overlooking the ocean. “Two night stay in the honeymoon suite.”

“No ceremony?” she asked, feeling secure enough to joke about the proposal.

Danny laughed. “So I got a little carried away. But, Mel, I swear right then it was like I could have it all – everything was at my fingers.”

“And you don’t feel that anymore?”

“I do but … I’ve regained my reality. We don’t have to get married now. Later is fine, right?”

“You are seriously asking me to marry you?”

Danny took a long moment, staring, and Melanie could see his brain working behind his clear eyes. “Yeah, I think I am. Do you think you would marry me after graduation, after I get settled in New York?”

“I know I would.”

Melanie and Danny ditched their Tuesday classes. On Wednesday, Danny was still skipping – he called it celebrating.

“Hi, professor,” Melanie said, hooking her backpack to the back of the chair.

“Oh, Melanie, tell me how your interviews went!”

Melanie gawked at Ms. McMillan as the professor’s expression gradually drooped. “What are you talking about?” she asked, feeling a cold dread seep into her spine.

“The job fair. Didn’t you meet with any headhunters? Weren’t they here this week?”

“This is the first I’ve heard.”

“That’s strange, your grades automatically put you in the running. Maybe I’m off on my dates.” Her puzzled look disagreed.

“Do you mind if I skip another class? I’d like to check the job center out for myself.”

“I think that’s a very good idea,” she said, concerned.

Melanie cut through campus, her heart racing and sweat building up at her hairline. Breathlessly, she ran right up to the information kiosk.

“Hi,” she said, catching her breath and wiping her forehead. Noticing for the first time the other students dressed in suits and heels sitting in the plastic chairs that lined the walls. “Um, I was wondering about the job fair.” She sputtered, the words didn’t want to come out.

“All the interviews have already been scheduled.”

“But … why wasn’t I notified?”

“The top five percent were mailed invitations last week.”

“But … I’m in that group,” she said, the back of her eyes burning. “Could you please check?”

The girl behind the counter clicked at her keyboard, bored. “Hmm. Melanie Ward, right?”

Melanie nodded.

“Well,” she scratched her ear, “I don’t know what to say. Somehow you were left off the list of invitees.” She looked apologetic.

“It’s okay, but where do I sign up for the interviews?”

“You don’t understand. All the recruiting officers are booked,” she pointed at the other graduates waiting.

“No,” she panted. “There must be something.”

“Well,” the girl winced, “there will be another job fair in a couple of weeks.”

“Weeks?” She calculated the end of the semester.

Melanie walked out of the office feeling dazed and confused.

She tried to mask her growing depression, but her mood darkened each passing day. Everyone around her was keyed up for graduation. Carla had made peace with her future mother- and sister-in-law, Jenny was organizing her trip with Ryan and Trish had landed a paid internship with the university phys ed department as an assistant physical therapist. Melanie was envious.

Sick of her constant presence, her career counselor rolled his eyes each day she knocked on his door.

“Nothing new,” he groaned. “I got a memo this morning … the last of the interviews are being scheduled.”

“Really?”

“Melanie, the big companies have filled their positions.”

How could this be happening?

“Fine. Sign me up for anything you’ve got.”

Tears streaked down her face as she took the long way home.

A week before graduation, Melanie spent the day at three interviews: Bank of America, Enterprise Car Rental and H&R Block.

The possibility of taking any of these jobs scared her. Envisioning herself stuck behind the same desk for 10 years, growing old and miserable.

I want Wall Street, not San Diego, not anywhere but the heart of the NYSE. Maybe
, she toyed with the nagging thought again,
I should get my master’s degree and postpone life a little longer.

“No,” she grumbled aloud. “I’ve got to grow up, get a job and become unhappy. It’s the American way.”

“When did you get so pessimistic?” Trish walked in and plopped down, her long legs dangling off the arm of the overstuffed chair. Melanie was sprawled across the couch.

“After three interviews from hell.”

“That bad?”

“Actually, no, the interviews went fine.” Melanie sat up. “Except it was for a bank, a car rental place and an accounting thing.” She was mentally drained.

Trish made a face. “Well, the bright side is there was no insurance company.”

Melanie looked up. “That’s Monday.”

“Are you serious?”

She nodded sadly.

Trish’s hysteria was infuriating at first, and then contagious.

“You need a drink, and I don’t mean lemonade. We need to get Dan over here.” Trish stood up. “Go get dressed.”

“I could use a drink.”

“You could use two, moping about for weeks. Well, I’m sick of it. You haven’t gotten your dream job? Get over it.”

Melanie was about to comment when she noticed an envelope. White, plain with no return address, only her name typed neatly in bold, black letters.

“When did this come?”

“Today. It’s odd,” Jenny said, peering over Melanie’s shoulder at the letter, “No return address, maybe it’s that disappearing boyfriend of yours.” Jenny gave Melanie the gotcha signal.

She hadn’t thought of Malik in months, since their last date. Melanie chose to believe he’d been deported.

Alone, she tore open the envelope.

Ms. Ward,

We are pleased to inform you that you have

been selected for an interview.

10 a.m. this Monday.

Downtown Marriott.

Confidentiality is mandatory.

We look forward to seeing you again.