Heartwarming Holidays Sweet Romance Books 1-3

Chapter 2-2

Taking the door knob from her, he turned it over in his hands. “Do you have the other half?” he asked.

“Yes,” Melody assured him. “It’s at home. In the attic. That’s where we usually keep it—only it’s usually attached to this part.”

He laughed, a rich chuckle, and Melody realized that Michael was also giggling, likely because his dad was. “Well, if you have the complete door knob, you should probably just repair it.” He turned it over again, inspecting it closely, before handing it back to her. “I assume you live in an older home, and if that’s the original door knob, you should probably keep it.”

“This is Charles Town,” Melody smiled. “Everyone lives in an older home.”

“True,” he nodded.

His smile was a bit crooked, pulling up at one side of his handsome face slightly more than the other. Melody realized she was staring again. “Well, I would like to keep it, I guess,” she admitted. “I just have no idea how to fix it. I mean, I doubt I’ll be able to figure out how to install a new one either, but I figured that would at least come with directions.”

“It’s really not that difficult,” he replied. “You probably just need one of these,” he said handing her a little package that seemed to contain a few screws and a plate of some sort.

Melody looked at the little package and then back up at him. “Okay…” she said. “But what do I do?”

“You can fix it, Dad,” Michael chimed in, tugging on his father’s coat sleeve. Then to Melody, he added, “My dad can fix anything.”

She could tell by the man’s expression that he wished his son hadn’t volunteered his services, the hesitation showing in the deep breath he held in and then the sigh he slowly released. “Oh, that’s okay,” Melody began, “I don’t want to be any trouble. I should probably just call a handyman. I just… things have been tight. Anyway, maybe between my mom and I, we can figure it out.”

“No, I can do it,” he offered, giving his son a narrowed look. “It’s really not any trouble at all,” he added, flashing Melody a meager smile.

“Clearly, you’re busy. I live over on Washington Avenue. I’d hate to make you drive all the way over there.”

“It’s really no trouble,” he assured her, “and that’s not even that far.”

“And the house is a mess….”

He laughed again. “If you really don’t want me to fix it, I understand, but it will only take a few minutes, and I really don’t mind.”

She glanced down at Michael, whose smile lit the room more brightly than the fluorescent overhead lights. “Okay,” she agreed, with a smile. “I’m Melody, by the way,” she said, fumbling the door knob and the repair kit into her left hand so she could offer her right.

“Reid,” he said, taking her hand.

Melody felt her heartbeat quicken as tingles spread up her arm. She realized she was staring again, and if it weren’t for a tug on her jacket, she may have continued to gaze into his eyes for an even more embarrassing amount of time.

“I’m Michael,” the smallest voice said, and Melody let go of Reid’s hand to pat him on the head.

“I know,” she said. “It’s very nice to meet you.” Glancing back up at his dad, she added, “Both of you.”

Melody gave them her address and then went up front to pay, hearing Reid say something to Michael about grabbing a hinge. A few minutes later, she had the repair kit in her hand and was back on the street, happy that the fresh December air seemed to take away the heat from her face. Taking in a deep breath, she slowly released it, and squaring her shoulders, she headed back to her car, reminding herself he was only coming over to fix her door knob—not to sweep her off of her feet. “Besides,” she muttered under her breath, “he’s probably married. He has a son. He’s got to be married.” I wish they had a simple repair kit for broken people.

“Where does Miss Melody live?” Michael asked from the back seat of Reid’s red Sierra.

Glancing in the mirror, he could see that his son had broken into Mrs. Gregory’s cookies and a smear of yellow frosting streaked across his cheek. “Not too far from us, down the street from Ms. Karen’s house,” he replied.

“I like Miss Melody,” the little boy added between chomps of the star-shaped cookie. “She’s pretty.” Reid said nothing, keeping his thoughts to himself, until Michael insisted, “You think she’s pretty, too, don’t you, Daddy?”

“Yes, I guess she is pretty,” Reid said with a shrug. “Careful not to get crumbs all over your booster seat.”

“I know, Dad,” he said, sounding a little more like a tweenager than Reid would have liked. He was getting so big already. How could he possibly be in kindergarten?

They passed Ms. Karen’s house, where Michael went after school for a few hours each day, and Reid made a left-hand turn onto Washington Avenue. They were only a few blocks from their own home, and the houses on this street were even larger and more architecturally stunning than the one he had recently purchased. Moving to Charles Town had been a good idea for someone who loved to restore old homes and wanted to run away from an unpleasant past. He truly hoped this would be the fresh start he and Michael needed.

“Dad! Look!” Michael exclaimed, pointing out the window at a large inflatable snow globe containing a dancing snowman. Tiny white pieces of plastic simulated falling snow and encircled the jolly soul as he wiggled in a swirling winter wonderland.

“That’s pretty cool!” Reid replied, forcing as much fake enthusiasm into his voice as possible. While he attempted to enjoy the holidays for Michael’s sake and though he usually did a pretty good job of pretending, Christmas just wasn’t the same as it used to be. He would manage to get through the holidays, like he always did, but he was certainly one of those people who couldn’t wait to flip the calendar to January.

Checking the addresses on the mailboxes, Reid spied what must be Melody’s house just ahead on the right. It was a stately Queen Anne, absolutely stunning. Most of the house was built of brick with wooden architectural elements in white capping the second floor. A large turret stood on the left side of the house, and the expansive front porch looked inviting.

“Is this her house?” Michael asked, poking through the front seats.

Reid pulled his eyes away from the structure to address his son. “You unbuckled already?”

“We came to a full stop.”

“You look like the Cookie Monster.” Reid wiped some of the crumbs off of his son’s face and considered l*****g his thumb and wiping away the frosting, but decided to leave that page out of his own mother’s playbook alone.

While Reid wasn’t sure they actually had the right house at first, even though the address matched the one Melody had mentioned in the hardware store, he saw her standing on the front porch, wringing her hands and shifting her weight from one foot to the other. He wondered how someone so young could afford such a large house. He assumed she wasn’t married since she’d mentioned only her mother as a candidate for helping her fix the door knob. While it was possible she could have a well-paying job that allowed her such nice accommodations, he also wondered why a single woman would need such a large space.

Michael was out the truck door before Reid could even unbuckle his seatbelt. He wasn’t sure why his son was so drawn to the young woman; he did have an affection for pretty young girls. Maybe Michael was drawn to her because she seemed nurturing and kind, two characteristics the little boy couldn’t get enough of despite the kindness he received from Ms. Karen, Mrs. Gregory, and just about every other female he came into contact with.

“Miss Melody!” Michael shouted, hopping up the wide brick steps and flinging himself around her knees.

“Well, hello,” Melody stuttered, clearly taken aback by Michael’s enthusiastic greeting. She bent down and patted him on the back, but her eyes were glued to Reid, as if she needed confirmation that the child had actually just flown to her, and her laughter filled the chilly air, a sound unlike anything he’d ever heard before. He couldn’t help but smile at the pure glee his son’s hug invoked.

“Don’t knock her over,” Reid warned as Michael continued to squeeze.

“He’s fine,” Melody said, still smiling as Michael finally released her. “I’m not used to such strong hugs.” She bent down and ruffled his hair.

“I just missed you so much,” Michael smiled up at her.

“It’s only been ten minutes!” Reid shook his head, still trying to figure out exactly what it was that had Michael so excited about this new acquaintance.

Melody placed one hand on the door handle but stopped, her expression shifting back to the nervous look he’d seen even from the truck. “I should warn you. My mom and I are in the process of going through my late father’s antique collection—and the house is truly a mess. It’s pretty embarrassing.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Don’t worry about it,” Reid assured her. “We’re not exactly the tidiest ourselves.”

“No, seriously,” Melody continued, “I keep expecting to see the crew from Hoarders walking through the hallway upstairs, talking about the best place to stage the lighting.”

Reid couldn’t help but laugh at the idea. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

Melody’s eyebrows stayed arched, and he couldn’t help but notice how vibrant her green eyes were. “All right,” she said, letting out a deep breath and pushing the door open, “but you were warned.”

The inside was just as opulent as the exterior, and Reid took a moment to look around. A large staircase stood just in front of them, complete with what appeared to be the original hand carved newel post. The floors had certainly been restored with the same care taken when they were first installed. From the molding to the pocket doors leading into the great room, every detail appeared to be authentic.

“This place is incredible,” Reid said, still gazing up at the ceiling. “You hardly ever see Victorian architecture maintained to this standard.”

“Thank you,” Melody said, her hand resting on the railing that led upstairs. “My father loved old things. From houses to antiques, he definitely saw the value and the beauty in anything from the past. He worked on this house most of his adult life.”

“He did a really nice job.” Reid could see from her expression that she was quite proud of her father, and the timid smile of gratitude his compliment received was enough to let him know Melody still missed him very much.

“It’s the attic door that has decided to be uncooperative today,” she said, climbing the stairs. “I took the knob and the kit up just before you got here, but I have no idea what to do next.”

“Let me take a look at it and see what tools I need.” Reid followed her up the stairs, Michael between them.

“Your house is so big,” Michael said as they neared the second story.

“It’s actually my mom’s house,” Melody replied. “I just came to live with her for a little while.”

“How come?” Michael asked, his voice and the question both innocent.

Melody glanced down at him before she answered. “Well, when my dad died, she was sad. And I was sad. So we decided to keep each other company.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Michael said. Reid could see in his eyes that he looked a little sad himself, and he was certain it was that M-word Melody kept saying that was altering his usual happy-go-lucky disposition.