Rising Above Page 8

  “She took the afternoon off to do some Christmas shopping with a friend of hers. Here, let me have him. I’m sure you have better things to do.”

  She took Thomas from Ana’s arms before she had a chance to protest. She appeared lost and empty sitting alone on the wooden chair for a few seconds before she caught up with what was happening and answered. “Okay. Well, I guess I’ll go type up a few notes before I head out again for dinner.”

  Melodie watched her gather her boots, backpack, and winter jacket. She turned to the window to see that the light afternoon snow had intensified, and she figured she owed her at least a meal for the way she’d taken care of Thomas. A meal would be safe enough, right? “Anais,” she called.

  “Yes?”

  “I was planning on making carbonara. There’ll be plenty for two if you want to join me. It’s kind of getting nasty out there. You shouldn’t drive in that mess unless you have to.”

  “Sure. I love carbonara. And if yours is as good as your eggs Benedict I’d be crazy to say no.” Her smile was back and she seemed genuinely excited by the invitation.

  “Great. It’ll be ready in about an hour. Maybe we can have that chat about the article I gave you.”

  “That sounds perfect. I’ll be there. But could you please do me a favor?”

  “Maybe, it depends what it is,” Melodie answered cautiously. Wasn’t cooking for her enough of a favor already?

  “Could you please stop calling me Anais? I really, really, really prefer Ana.”

  Melodie laughed louder than she intended and startled Thomas. “I guess I could do that. I was insisting on calling you Anais to aggravate you but I think we’re past that now.”

  Ana joined in her laughter. “You never sugarcoat things, do you?”

  “Only cookies. Maybe I’ll make those for you some day. They’re delicious. But don’t expect me to sugarcoat anything else, no.”

  “I won’t. I think I’m starting to like that about you, actually. It’s refreshing. It just takes some getting used to.”

  “Honesty is very important to me, that’s all.”

  “I understand.”

  Melodie knew she couldn’t possibly understand all the reasons why honesty had become so important to her, from her mother’s departure to Aurelie’s betrayal. Yet something in the way she said those words, in her compassionate expression, convinced her that she did understand. “Well, I’ll see you in an hour. Thank you very much for the invitation, Melodie.”

  “You’re welcome, Ana.”

  She nodded with satisfaction before she turned and climbed the rest of the stairs. Melodie took Thomas to the kitchen where she prepared a bottle. She wasn’t so sure a meal was safe anymore, but she had to admit she couldn’t wait to share pasta with Ana. Although being honest with herself remained the most difficult part of honesty. She couldn’t even lie to herself about wanting to spend more time with the tousled-haired scientist.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ana came back downstairs as Melodie was setting her table for two. A table, she corrected herself. She’d sat at that table for four mornings but it didn’t make it hers, did it? She looked around for Thomas and found he was sleeping in the bassinet. Melodie finished placing the silverware on the white tablecloth before she noticed Ana at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Now you’ll know I eat at your table every night,” she explained with a chuckle. “It’s the perfect place to keep an eye on Thomas while I have dinner. I hope you don’t mind sharing.” She chuckled and winked wickedly and Ana felt her face heat up, embarrassed.

  Yes, she was a creature of habit. She enjoyed discipline and routine. She wasn’t ashamed of it, but she didn’t appreciate being teased about it. “It’s not my table,” she objected. “This is your hotel so you can eat wherever you want.” She cleared her throat and turned back to Thomas to change the subject. “Does he always sleep through your dinner time?”

  “I wish. No, he doesn’t. When he’s awake, I put his car seat on the table, give him a few toys, and keep him entertained the best I can while I eat. We don’t have enough space for a table in our room, and I prefer eating my meals at a proper table whenever possible.”

  Ana tried to imagine Melodie eating alone at this table every night and for the first time since they’d met, she thought that perhaps her life, as hectic as it was with the inn and a child to take care of, could at times leave her as lonely as Ana was. “Understandable,” she acknowledged. “Can I help with anything?”

  “No, everything is ready. Sit down and I’ll go get our plates. You can serve the wine if you want.” Ana glanced at the Chablis on the table. “Please tell me you drink wine. I never drink but I like a good wine once in a while when I have company, which I’m sure you can imagine is rare with a six-month-old baby.”

  Ana wasn’t really fond of wine or alcohol in general, but fortunately she could tolerate white wine, sometimes even appreciate it. “Chablis sounds perfect with carbonara, actually. It smells divine, by the way.”

  “Wonderful. Go ahead and pour us two glasses and I’ll be right back with the food.”

  Ana watched Melodie walk to the kitchen and realized she’d changed into a crocheted V-neck sweater and jeans. The look was still casual but a little more daring than the T-shirt she’d worn earlier. The jeans beautifully hugged her hips and showcased her round butt. Although the loose fit of the sweater hid her curves, the crochet allowed a glimpse of a black bra. Ana closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she poured the wine.

  She could not remember the last time she’d looked at a woman this way. The last time she’d noticed clothes, curves, skin or any other physical attribute that had made her own body burn. Melodie had left her cold as well at one point. It was as if her body followed her lead. The more she learned to appreciate Melodie for the amazing qualities that had been buried under her bad attitude when they’d first met, the more she noticed her physical attributes. Cause and effect. Oh, who was she kidding? There was nothing scientific about what was going on.

  Melodie took her time to serve two generous portions of spaghetti Carbonara in pasta dishes. She needed to regain her composure before she went back to the dining room. She’d come too close to running her hand through Ana’s unruly auburn mane. She’d come too close to caressing the sleeve of her green and black striped cashmere sweater. That green made her eyes pop up like two emeralds. It wasn’t fair. She had to know that particular sweater had that effect on her eyes. She had to know it made her damn nearly irresistible. It wasn’t fair. And it wouldn’t work. She grabbed the plates and headed out of the kitchen, determined. She caught Ana’s longing gaze on her as she approached the table and realized her own choice of clothes might not have been that innocent either.

  “Voilà. Carbonara for two. I hope you like it,” she announced as she placed it in front of Ana.

  “If it tastes as good as it smells, I’ll love it.”

  Melodie took a sip of wine and let it coat her mouth, savoring it as she watched Ana take her first bite of pasta. She waited anxiously for her reaction and swallowed her wine when Ana hummed her appreciation. She relished the lemon quality and tingling sensation of the Chablis mixed with the pride she always took in watching someone enjoy her cooking. Ana’s pleasure was unrestrained and filled her with so much joy she caught herself giggling.

  “This is the best carbonara I’ve ever had. Seriously. I think you’re spoiling me.”

  “It’s the pasta water.”

  “What?”

  “A lot of people put cream in their carbonara sauce but there’s no cream in an authentic carbonara. The creaminess comes from the mix of eggs and pasta water.”

  “That’s fascinating, but I’m sure that’s not the only thing that makes this so good.”

  “Well, I can’t tell you all of my secrets, can I?”

  “Of course not. That said, your secrets would be safe with me. You could give me the entire secret recipe and I guarantee I couldn’t reproduce it. I’m w
orthless in a kitchen.”

  “That’s strange. It’s a little like science after all. You measure ingredients, mix them together.”

  “That’s baking. I can bake. Baking is an exact science. This, however, is something else.” She continued twisting her fork into the pasta. “This comes from the heart.”

  “You might be right about that,” Melodie replied as she watched Ana savor another bite. “A few days ago I might have said that’s why you can’t cook, then,” she added teasingly before she took a bite of her own pasta.

  Ana furrowed her brows in puzzlement before she seemed to understand the joke. “Oh, right. Because I’m rigid and I don’t have a heart. Very funny.”

  Melodie laughed as Ana pointed her fork at her and narrowed her eyes to pretend she was offended. “I think it’s very funny. That said, I know better now. You have a heart, Ana Bloom. It’s obvious when you hold Thomas. And when you eat my food.”

  “Oh no, I guess I’ve been caught. You’ve uncovered my darkest secret,” she said as she shoved a large amount of pasta into her mouth and chewed eagerly.

  Melodie laughed again, pleased to find out that Ana not only had a heart, but a sense of humor as well. She wanted to find out more about her. “Tell me about your life in the States. Do you live in a large city?”

  Ana swallowed before she answered. “No, Ithaca is larger than Sainte-Luce-Sur-Mer, of course, but it’s pretty small. It’s mostly a college town.”

  “Does your family live there too?”

  “I don’t have any family left, as a matter of fact.” The answer was given dryly, between two bites. Ana didn’t even look at her, and she knew she shouldn’t pry, but she couldn’t help digging a little more.

  “Really? No brother or sister? No parents? No one at all?”

  Ana looked at her this time. She recognized sadness in her eyes, and perhaps anger. “No one. I never knew my father. Never had brothers or sisters. And my mother died last month.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered before she rested her hand on Ana’s to comfort her. She should have minded her own business, but she was used to stepping over the line and apologizing for it afterward. “Was she ill?”

  “Cancer.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “It is, but it’s not like we were close. My mother wasn’t exactly the maternal type. Our relationship was polite at best and nonexistent for long periods of time. When she told me she had cancer, I took her in out of obligation. I came here right after her funeral. Some might say I was running away, but I prefer thinking I had to move on and keep busy.” Ana’s tone was dry, guarded, but Melodie caught tears filling her eyes before Ana closed them and squared her jaw. Ana obviously had unfinished business with her mother despite her death and Melodie was dying to dig deeper and find out why, but probing would leave her open to be probed and she wasn’t ready to open up to Ana about her own mother.

  Melodie noticed she’d been caressing Ana’s hand and froze, hesitating for a few seconds before she resumed the comforting movement of her fingers. Ana was using her fork to push pasta around her plate. She’d apparently lost her appetite. “You took care of her anyway. That’s admirable. I’m not sure I could do that for my mother.” She clicked her tongued, regretting her words as soon as they came out.

  “Why? Don’t you get along with your mother?”

  She scoffed. “No. Our relationship is nonexistent, as you put it. She left when I was fourteen and I saw her once or twice a year after that until I was eighteen. I’ve seen her three times since then. She hasn’t even met Thomas yet. She wanted a big career in Montreal. She wanted to get away from here. From us.”

  “Us?”

  “Me and my dad.” She left Ana’s hand alone on the table to wipe tears from her eyes. “But please don’t talk about this with my grandmother. She still thinks my mother asked me to move in with her and I’m the one who decided not to go.”

  “But she didn’t?” She shook her head. “Would you have gone?”

  She shrugged. “Probably not. I don’t know.” She ran her hands through her curls and massaged her scalp as she took a deep breath, attempting to chase those dark thoughts away. When she grabbed her glass of wine and rested her other hand back on the table, Ana covered it in the same manner she’d covered hers earlier.

  “I guess that’s one thing we have in common. Complicated relationships with our mothers.” Melodie nodded as she focused on the pressure of Ana’s warm hands on hers. “At least you have Yvonne. And Thomas.” Ana lowered her eyes and swallowed and Melodie understood that Ana had it even worse for she was completely alone in the world. And from the way she’d talked about her mother, perhaps she’d been alone all her life.

  “Yes, I’m very lucky.” Ana smiled and slowly dragged her hand away, leaving her with one last caress, a soft but firm stroke that she felt on her skin long after Ana’s hand got back to holding her fork and took another bite. She still didn’t look like she had much of an appetite, but she was eating, and Melodie decided to steer the conversation to less personal matters. “So what did you think of that article? Good stuff, huh?”

  “Yes, very interesting.”

  “So, do you still think moving away from the shore is the best option?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

  “What?”

  Ana swallowed with difficulty. A few minutes earlier she would have preferred any topic of conversation over her mother. She’d been forced to think of Constance again and to stir deeply rooted anger and resentment. She preferred keeping those feelings buried inside her, but the longer she stayed at the White Sheep Inn and the more time she spent with Yvonne, Melodie, and Thomas, the more difficult it became to keep them from flaring up and tormenting her. It was extremely unpleasant, yet it was better than the confrontation that was about to take place. At least they’d connected as they talked about their respective relationships with their mothers. Ana felt vulnerable right now, not in the right state of mind to argue her convictions at all, but she didn’t have a choice.

  “Don’t get me wrong. There are wonderful ideas in the article you gave me. A few years ago I would probably have defended them with you. I’m an engineering geologist, after all. We live for these types of ideas. The guy who suggested adding turbines to a protective wall to generate green energy is brilliant. But that’s not the way I think anymore.”

  Melodie’s features hardened as she spoke. “No, you’re making that crystal clear. You prefer giving up. What kind of scientist are you?” She didn’t look at Ana as she made the biting accusation. She focused on her plate, plunging her fork into her pasta repeatedly as if she were stabbing it.

  Ana reached over the table to grab her wrist, gently but firmly, forcing her to meet her gaze. “I’m not giving up, Melodie. I’m just choosing a different strategy. I’m the kind of scientist who doesn’t think the solution to fixing the way we messed with nature is to mess with it even more. There are more and more like me, fortunately. And if scientists had always thought a little bit more like we do, we wouldn’t be in this much trouble now.”

  “So you cross your arms and observe as the sea destroys everything we own? That’s your solution?”

  “No, not at all. I help people organize, find assistance from governments and businesses, come up with a plan and priorities, and do the only sensible thing to do: relocate. Then I find ways everyone can keep enjoying the beach without endangering or weakening it even more, maybe even go as far as planting sea grass to help strengthen it again, but mainly try to stay away from it. It might not be as exciting as building fancy walls, but it’s what I truly believe is the best thing to do.”

  Melodie scoffed and jerked her arm out of her grasp. “You’ve never lived by the sea, have you?”

  “No.”

  “Of course not. If you had, you’d understand that people who grow up by the sea can’t simply move away. It’s part of who we are. We have saltwater running through our veins. Don’t you get it? You can’t
expect us to abandon our homes because you think it’s the best thing to do. Who are you to decide what’s the best thing to do anyway?”

  “So you’d rather build a gigantic wall in the sea you love so much than learn to appreciate it from a distance?”

  “You don’t understand. It’s simply not an option for us. We have to stay. And walls don’t have to be as invasive as you make them sound. What about the MOSE project in Venice?”

  “You mean the huge mobile gates that will cost billions to build and will be useless once they’re finished because the sea levels will already have surpassed the engineers’ predictions?” She recognized sarcasm in her own tone and took a deep breath to calm down. She wouldn’t achieve anything if she became as defensive as Melodie, who was now leaning away from the table against the back of her chair, her arms crossed on her chest. “Look, all I’m saying is that I may not have grown up by the sea, but I have nothing but respect for it. I respect its power, and I’d rather spend my time and energy helping people learn to respect it rather than fight against it, try to change it or tame it in any way.”

  “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you don’t have a heart after all,” Melodie said through clenched teeth.

  “Excuse me?”

  “It’s easy for you to sit there and talk about respect and appreciating the sea from a distance. You’ve never loved anything in your whole life. If you had you’d know that you can’t love from a distance, Ana. You may respect the sea, as you say, but we love it. Love is stronger than your fucking respect and you can’t reason with it. If you knew anything about love you’d do everything you can to help us stay. But all you know about is running away, so you expect us to do the same.”

  Ana swallowed and closed her eyes to chase away threatening tears. Maybe she could have accepted Melodie’s rant if their earlier conversation hadn’t left her emotions so raw and vulnerable. Maybe she could have taken it less personally if she hadn’t been reminded once again that the only person who should have loved her unconditionally since her birth had never been able to do so. Maybe she could have shrugged it off if it hadn’t been right. Ana didn’t know anything about love. If Melodie wanted to hurt her, she’d succeeded, and she was done protecting her feelings. “Love won’t do anything for you when a storm wipes out this precious inn of yours,” she said coldly. “Thank you for dinner, but I think I’ll go to my room now,” she added before she got up and walked to the stairs.