Rising Above Read online

  She filled her lungs with cool sea air and thought of her tasks ahead. The one she dreaded the most was apologizing to Anais Bloom. She’d looked up her name in the computer, thinking her apology might not be as effective if she addressed the woman as Rich Uptight American Tourist. She didn’t mind apologizing to people she cared about. She’d become quite an expert at it. But she wasn’t looking forward to groveling in front of a stranger for the sake of business.

  The stroller suddenly stopped and she walked right into the handlebar. “Damn shit, that hurt,” she muttered as she brought a hand to her ribs. Thomas giggled and she took a peek at him under the blanket. “What’s so funny? Are you laughing because your mama got hurt?” Thomas looked at her expectantly. She lowered her voice and bent closer. “Damn shit,” she repeated. The boy laughed louder this time and she joined in. She’d found out a few days earlier that her favorite curse word made him laugh gleefully. She didn’t know why, but she found it difficult not to abuse the power it had on him even though she knew it wasn’t appropriate. “All right, little scoundrel, let’s find out what’s going on with your wheels.”

  She crouched and quickly found a small mass of salt stuck in one of the front wheels. They’d had a mix of snow and freezing rain during the night and the icy roads had been generously covered with salt. She checked the other wheels of the stroller for similar potential roadblocks when she heard a vehicle stop next to her. “Do you need help, Miss?”

  “Certainly not from you,” she answered without looking at the driver. She recognized Kevin’s voice and was in no mood to talk to him. She got up and walked faster. The black pickup truck started again, only to park on the side of the road a few feet in front of her.

  Every time she saw the forty-thousand-dollar truck, she was tempted to ask for child support, but she never did. She didn’t want anything from Kevin. And she didn’t want him to ask for anything in return.

  She didn’t regret having Thomas but she wasn’t proud of the way she’d hooked up with her high-school sweetheart after ten years of exclusively dating women. They were sitting around a fire with friends one summer night and he’d put on the charm as he’d done periodically ever since she’d broken up with him after they’d graduated from high school. That night, she’d thought why not? She’d realized that perhaps she’d been fighting what was meant to be. She’d had her heart broken by a woman and she knew that couldn’t happen with Kevin.

  She’d become pregnant shortly after, which was not as shocking to her as it had been to Kevin since she forgot to take her contraceptive pill as much as she remembered. They’d moved in together during the pregnancy and a week after Thomas’s birth, Kevin had left to work on a new construction site in Calgary. He was an ironworker and went where the job took him, often leaving for two or three months at a time. Melodie didn’t mind that. She knew what she was getting into with Kevin. A few of her friends were married to ironworkers and it was simply a way of living, a comfortable way of living. Ironworkers worked hard but the pay was more than decent.

  After two months of consistent weekly phone calls, a week went by without a call. She stopped by her in-laws’ to check if they’d heard anything. She was worried. She found out he’d been back in town for five days, crashing in his parents’ basement. He explained he wasn’t ready to be a dad, and she’d given up the illusion that their little family might have been her destiny. Kevin never had the power to break her heart, perhaps, but he still succeeded in disappointing her. She felt like such an idiot every time she remembered it all, but all she had to do was look at Thomas to know that she’d been right. Her relationship with Kevin might have crashed and burned quickly, but it had left her with Thomas, and for that reason alone, she still believed it was meant to be.

  Kevin got out of the truck with his broad shoulders, coy smile, messy beard and short dark hair. His bad boy good looks didn’t have any effect on her anymore, but she had to admit she’d given her son good genes. “Come on, Mel, how long are you going to be mad at me?”

  “As long as you remain the asshole you are,” she replied, refusing to admit the rage she’d felt yesterday was already long gone to be replaced by mere annoyance. “You know, Kev, I never asked you for anything. No child support, no schedule to stick to. You’re the one who begged for a weekend with Thomas.”

  “I know, and I really wanted to spend time with him, but something came up,” he explained as he scratched the short beard on his neck.

  She increased her speed so she could walk past him. “Not good enough. I had plans, you know. I had to cancel my night out because of you,” she lied. “Do you think that’s fair?”

  “No,” he continued as he walked by her side. “I know it wasn’t fair, but I couldn’t help it. I swear.”

  “Sure.”

  “Come on, Mel. I’m really sorry. Can you stop for a minute so I can see him?”

  “No. And you have no right to ambush me on my morning walk. You know how important these walks are to me.”

  “Melodie, please.”

  She sighed, irritated, but stopped the stroller and Kevin crouched in front of it to see Thomas. “Are you sure he can breathe in that thing? He can’t even move.”

  “He’s fine, Kev. Would you rather see him freeze to death?”

  “Hey little man,” Kevin started. “I have an important secret for you.” He got closer to Thomas and whispered, “Damn shit.”

  Thomas laughed, of course, and she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing too. She had to remain serious if she wanted to be credible when she chastised him.

  “Stop! God, I should never have told you about that. What are we going to look like if those are his first words, huh?”

  “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. I’m sure he’ll laugh at much more interesting things by the time he starts talking. He doesn’t even know what we’re saying,” Kevin argued as he straightened up and faced her again.

  “I guess you’re probably right.”

  “What? What was that?” He grinned and pointed a finger to his right ear.

  “You heard me, jackass,” she replied as she swatted his hand. “Now let me finish my walk in peace. I have a big day ahead of me.”

  His smile vanished and he cleared his throat. “I’ll let you go in a minute, but first there was something else I had to talk to you about. It’s your dad.”

  “All right, what has he done now?”

  Melodie resumed walking and Kevin followed. She was used to hearing about her alcoholic father’s mishaps. She and her grandmother often had to help him out of sticky situations, and she’d grown to expect the worst.

  “Apparently he hasn’t worked in a while and he owes Aunt Judith two months’ rent. She’s about to throw him out. I convinced her to let me talk to you first.”

  She sighed and shook her head. Jerome Beaulieu had always managed to provide for her when she was growing up. He’d been a good father and she loved him dearly, but his alcoholism was now out of control. He worked small construction jobs, and he was known as a quick, talented, and meticulous worker. Unfortunately he was also known as the guy who didn’t show up for work one or two days a week, and his unreliability always made him the first to be laid off toward the end of a project. “Well, thanks for letting me know. I’ll talk to my grandmother about it, but please tell your aunt we’ll call her. We’ll pay what he owes her, of course.”

  “I figured as much. All right, then. Have a good day, Mel.” He bent down toward Thomas before he added, “Bye bye, my little man. Damn shit.” He ran away from her at the same time Thomas laughed.

  “Yeah, you better run, Kevin Cloutier,” she called through her own laughter. Better laugh than cry, she thought as she continued her walk toward the church, trying to clear her cluttered mind by focusing on the frantic waves the wind created on her beloved Saint-Laurent.

  Chapter Six

  Ana had been sitting at a small wooden table for two since seven o’clock sharp. The innkeeper, who’d introduced herself as
Yvonne, had given her a menu and had poured her a cup of coffee as soon as she’d sat down. She hadn’t come back to take her order yet and it was seven fifteen. Ana didn’t want to waste her day away sitting at this table. She’d planned to use weekends to explore Sainte-Luce-Sur-Mer, perhaps even Rimouski, but mostly to get acquainted with the Saint-Laurent River. She’d contemplated taking long walks on the beach and mentally reviewing the questions she wanted to ask during the meetings she’d scheduled for the coming week. She hoped these walks would allow her to meet other people she might interview for her research. None of that, of course, could happen while she was waiting to be served.

  Fortunately the coffee was good. And she conceded that the dining room was charming. She didn’t care for the wallpaper, covered in a pattern of dark and light roses, but she appreciated the effort to bring it to life by painting the ceiling in the same shade as the darker roses, a color she would call raspberry, which contrasted beautifully with the buttercream paint of the crown moulding. The area was open to the lobby, only partly separated from it by the bottom of the staircase. There were three other tables like the one she’d chosen, and two larger tables that could sit four people. She was alone this morning, but she figured other guests might come later. She wondered if anyone ever played the upright piano that sat against the wall of the staircase. It was a Baldwin piano and appeared to be at least a hundred years old. It made her itch to play for the first time in over a decade.

  Ana brought her gaze back to the dog that had been sitting at the bottom of the stairs gawking at her. She called him over with a snap of her fingers, thinking she might as well pet him while she waited, but the dog didn’t move. She guessed he was trained to never enter the dining room, which was a great idea, but she wished he’d also been trained to look elsewhere. His constant staring was disturbing. He was a beautiful dog, though. Probably a corgi, she thought, although she’d never seen one this color. His muzzle, neck, chest, and legs were white, but the rest of his body was a bluish grey with tan edges and small black spots. His eyes were bright blue, and they were still focused on her.

  She averted her eyes from the furry stalker and turned back to her menu, as if she hadn’t decided what she wanted yet. It was a simple piece of paper with three options printed in a common script font that could have been done on any home computer. Fortunately it was printed in both French and English. The choices were croissant served with homemade strawberry jam, Greek yogurt with granola and fruit, or eggs Benedict with sliced fried potatoes and fruit.

  She heard the door of the lobby fly open even before she heard the damn bell and turned to see Melodie rush inside with the same baby Ana concluded was hers. Yvonne joined her and they exchanged a few words in French before Yvonne took the baby and Melodie walked past Ana with a polite smile before she disappeared behind the door Ana assumed led to the kitchen. Yvonne put the sleeping baby in the bassinet and hurried to her table. “So what will you have this morning?”

  “I’ll try the eggs Benedict. And I’ll have more coffee, please.”

  “Of course. And thank you for your patience.”

  “Sure,” Ana replied curtly.

  Yvonne went to the kitchen and came back with a fresh pot of coffee. She topped Ana’s cup with the warm liquid, smiled, and went back to the kitchen. Ana wondered why Melodie wasn’t helping and felt sympathy for Yvonne. She promised herself she’d leave her a generous tip despite the wait. A few minutes later the innkeeper came back with her plate. “Thank you,” Ana said with a smile she hoped would erase her earlier impatience.

  “My pleasure,” she replied before she left again.

  Ana took a bite of her eggs and hummed, pleasantly surprised. Eggs Benedict were her favorite breakfast meal, one she indulged in once a week. Unfortunately, she was often disappointed when she tried it in new places. The Hollandaise sauce was crucial to the success of the dish. If it was not made properly it could be bland and tasteless. Yvonne definitely knew how to make a tasteful Hollandaise sauce. There was a unique kick to it Ana enjoyed profusely until Melodie appeared.

  “Sorry to bother you, Anais, but could I talk to you?”

  “Sure, but call me Ana,” she answered with hesitation. Melodie took the liberty to sit across from her at the table without asking or being invited, which made Ana raise her eyebrows in surprise. The woman really had some nerves.

  “I wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday. I’m afraid I didn’t make a great first impression and I’m truly sorry about that.”

  She was going to tell her to forget about it, anything to get her away from her table so she could enjoy the rest of her breakfast in peace, but her cell phone rang, and of course Melodie answered it. She remained seated across from Ana as she engaged in an inflamed conversation over the phone. She recognized the words “no” and “Kevin” again. That Kevin sure seemed to know how to push Melodie’s buttons, she mused before she realized she was listening to a private conversation that had nothing to do with her when all she wanted to do was to savor her eggs Benedict before they got cold. “Would you mind taking that somewhere else? I’m trying to eat,” she snapped. Melodie rolled her eyes and huffed at her as if she were the rude one before she stood and returned to the kitchen.

  Ana only had time to fork another bite before Yvonne approached her, “Would you mind if I sit with you for a minute?”

  “No, not at all. Please do,” Ana said sincerely, extending her free hand toward the unoccupied chair to emphasize her invitation. She’d always find time for a woman who could cook eggs Benedict this well.

  “Did she at least have time to apologize before she took that phone call?”

  “Kind of,” Ana said after chewing and swallowing another bite. “I think we were interrupted before she had time to finish.”

  “Well, let me finish for her then. My granddaughter is a very impulsive young woman and you’ve probably guessed customer service isn’t her strong suit. She’s a hard worker though, and she has a good heart. Please don’t let her behavior taint your opinion of us or this place.”

  “Don’t worry, Yvonne. To be honest, I’d put up with a lot more of your granddaughter’s lack of skills in customer service to eat more of your eggs Benedict.”

  Yvonne snorted a laugh at the compliment. “Oh dear, these are not mine. I can’t cook. Never could. The menu was limited to the first two options before Melodie came on board. And she’d been making the homemade strawberry jam since she was twelve. It was my grandmother’s recipe but my family’s talent in a kitchen clearly skipped a generation. She’s the chef in this family now. That said, I’m very happy she can make up for her rudeness with her cooking abilities.”

  Ana swallowed her bite with difficulty, as if admitting Melodie had redeeming qualities actually hurt. She considered her half-full plate for a few seconds but decided she didn’t care who’d made this dish. It was simply too good not to finish it. “It certainly helps,” she confirmed before she dug in with her fork.

  “Great. I’ll let you eat in peace then. I need to go get ready for my morning walk with Miller before he drills holes through you. Melodie will be here if you need anything else.”

  Ana narrowed her eyes in question and looked at the dog that was still staring at her, now with his tongue hanging out. “Is that Miller?”

  “The one and only, yes. Sorry about the staring. I’ve never been able to break that strange habit out of him.”

  Yvonne stood and an idea popped into Ana’s mind. An experienced business woman like Yvonne probably knew a lot of people, even some very influential people, Ana could interview for her research. “Would you mind some company?”

  Yvonne turned and smiled. “You want to come for a walk with me and Miller?”

  “Yes, I’d like to pick your brain about something I’m working on.”

  “Now you’ve piqued my curiosity. You’re more than welcome to join us. Can we meet in the lobby in about fifteen minutes? I need to help Melodie clean up in the kitchen.”r />
  “I’ll be there,” Ana confirmed, looking forward to continuing her chat with the innkeeper. She decided Yvonne’s career suited her perfectly. Her entire persona was welcoming and comforting. She guessed Melodie would inherit the inn someday, and she hoped for the sake of the family business that she would develop the same qualities. For now her talents in the kitchen far exceeded her hospitality.

  After they finished the dishes in silence, Yvonne announced she was going for a walk with their guest and left the kitchen. Melodie knew she’d disappointed her again. She shouldn’t have taken Kevin’s call. She took a bottle of breast milk out of the fridge and placed it in a bowl of warm water. Thomas had never taken to her breast so this was the only way she could offer him the benefits of her milk. She hated the pump because it made her feel like a cow, but she wanted the best for her son.

  She sighed with frustration thinking of Ana Bloom’s smug expression when she dismissed her from her table. She shouldn’t have taken the call, perhaps, but that arrogant bitch could have shown a little more understanding. She didn’t have to act so superior, as if Melodie wasn’t good enough to sit at her table. Did she think she was better than all of them because she wore a Ralph Lauren cashmere V-neck sweater over a perfectly pressed shirt at seven in the morning? She wondered if she’d wear the two-hundred-dollar sweater on her walk. Probably, since she’d judged it appropriate for breakfast at the White Sheep Inn. Melodie had no patience for rich judgmental jerks, and Ana Bloom definitely fit that category. She sprinkled a few drops of milk onto her wrist and, satisfied with its temperature, took the bottle to the lobby.