A Woman Scorned

Chapter 2

Melanie woke up with a start, as exhausted as she was when she finally got to bed, she still felt jet-lagged and on Portland time.  When she glanced at the bedside clock it was well after one in the afternoon.

“Oh, hell, I missed my appointment,” Mel groaned as she fumbled for her cell phone to call the realtor.  “Hi, this is Melanie Marcus, I had a ten o’clock appointment with Mr. Stevenson to see the condo on...  Oh, yes, I understand.  Sure, I’ll call back to reschedule.  Are you sure there isn’t...  Right.  Goodbye.”

Mel had the urge the throw her phone against the nearest wall but she really liked her phone and couldn’t afford the expense of a new one.  She wasn’t destitute but she wasn’t stupid either.  At least when it came to her phone.  Mel sighed then flopped back against the pillow.

Oh well, she thought to herself, it was only her first day back in the Pitts.  She didn’t have to do everything in one day.  Mel closed her eyes to think then fell back to sleep.

*****

“Dad, we got a shipment,” came a shout that was loud enough to shake the walls.  The young lady smiled sweetly at the delivery man who had just propped open the door with a heavy brasslike Rage statue so he could cart in several boxes. “Dad!”

“No, need to shout, Honeybun, I’m right here,” Michael stated as he walked into the main store from the back.  “Do you have the shipping bill?”  JR rolled her eyes at the ‘Honeybun’ but handed over the invoice just as the phone rang.

“Red Cape, how can I help you?  Oh hey, Curtis, how are you?  Are you coming home for Thanksgiving?” JR asked with hope.  She and Curtis spent only a limited amount of time together over the summer and now Curtis was away at NYU.  “Wow, your dads are meeting you in New York City for the Thanksgiving weekend?  That’s great.  Sure, maybe during winter break.  Um, I gotta go, we just got a shipment.  Yeah, me too.  Bye.”  JR hung up the phone, scowling at it.

“JR, shake a leg.  These boxes aren’t going to unpack themselves,” Michael said breaking through JR’s fog.

“Sure, Dad, be right there,” she said.  Michael was too preoccupied to pick up on the disappointment in JR’s voice.

*****

“Hi, Melanie,” Jennifer greeted the lawyer as she walked through the door of Jennifer’s real estate office.

“Jennifer, thank you for seeing me on such short notice.  God, do you really have a son that’s in his thirties?  You look amazing!” Melanie gushed, wishing she’d look half as good at Jenn’s age.  Melanie was tired and worn out with stress.

“Thank you.  And the son is almost forty but we’re both in denial,” Jennifer said with a bright smile.  Melanie knew Jennifer was the source of Justin’s youthful appearance.

“Well whatever you’re doing, bottle it then sell me some.  I’m feeling very old at the moment.”

“Nonsense, fifty-ish is the new thirty.  Besides, you’re jet-lagged.  It will take you a while to get used to our time zone again.”

“I hope you’re right.  I also hope you have a listing for me.  I can’t stay at the Plaza forever even with the discount Brian got me.”

“He’s charging you for the room?”

“No, but I have to eat sometime and the thought of diner food makes me ill.  It’s much easier to eat at the hotel.”

“Does the family know you’re back?” Jennifer asked gently.

“No, and they wouldn’t have until the snafu at the hotel.  I’m sure the gossip’s whizzing around as we speak,” Mel said with a sigh.

“Don’t count on it.  Brian and Justin don’t gossip.  If Brian hadn’t called me last night, I wouldn’t have known.”

“Brian called you last night?”

“Didn’t you know?” Jennifer asked.

“Yes, I did.  I’m just a little mixed up right now,” Melanie said sounding very defeated.  She looked around the quaint office then focused on a chair.

“Go sit.  Let me make you a cup of tea then we’ll discuss your needs,” Jenn said softly.  Melanie nodded then allowed the older woman to fuss over her.

*****

“Patrick!”

“Hey, Chet,” Patrick replied as he swung his bat at an oncoming ball.  If he wasn’t in a batting cage the ball would have been found somewhere in the next county.  Chet stood on the other side of the cage watching his friend take some hard whacks at the oncoming balls.

“Jeez, I’m glad I’m not a baseball,” Chet murmured to himself.  Patrick was definitely not his peaceful friendly self at the moment. “Hey, Red, what’s up?  You look like you lost your best friend and that can’t be right since I’m standing right here,” Chet said with a big grin, trying to lighten the mood. 

Chet and Patrick had developed a strong but unlikely friendship.  Chet hadn’t lost any of his snobby arrogance but somehow Patrick made Chet a bit more human.  Patrick found Chet’s attitude amusing.  He almost equated their friendship to something like his Uncle Brian and Michael.  Opposites but finding a common ground.  Whatever it was, it worked for them.

“I don’t know,” Patrick muttered as he smacked another ball into the back net of the cage.

“Come on, Red, take a break, you’re making a me nervous,” Chet said to Patrick as he crossed his eyes, making faces at Patrick.  Patrick laughed in spite of himself, dropped the bat then flipped off the switch on the pitching machine.

“That’s better, now tell me what’s got your panties in a bunch.  It can’t be girl trouble cause I hear you’re taking the hottest girl to the dance.  Brittany’s still goin’ with you, right?”  Patrick shot Chet a look.  Chet put up his hands in defense. “I’m just checking.  You’re a good looking guy, not as good looking as me, but the ladies seem to like you,” Chet went on making Patrick roll his eyes. 

“You do remember that we’re only 13, right?” 

Chet ignored the remark and kept on talking.  “Your dads have plenty of money, not that you’d know it.  What’s up with that ancient Navigator your dad keeps driving?  Doesn’t he know it’s so last century?”

“He likes it,” Patrick tried to explain.  “He says there’s no reason to give it up if it runs well.”

“Yeah well,” Chet shrugged his shoulder.  His parents always seemed to have a car that was never older than three years.

“What about my Uncle?  His car is older,” Patrick pointed out.

“You mean the “Vette?” Chet asked, Patrick nodded.  “That’s not old, that’s a classic.  That Jeep of his is another story.”

“A classic,” Patrick repeated.  Patrick ruminated over the differences between his uncle’s classic Corvette and his beloved Jeep.

They sat on a bench near the batting cage.  It was getting cold, not really baseball weather but that didn’t matter to Patrick.  He stared out toward the new enclosed sports arena that his father and Anderson Construction just finished building.  Since the school complex housed grades pre-school through high school, his dads and his uncles decided it needed a real sports arena that could be used throughout the year.  The men of Edna’s Treasures got together and donated the funds to build it.  John personally supervised the construction.  He made sure it would serve the community for generations to come.

Chet knocked into Patrick’s shoulder with his own.

“Spill it.  Something’s on your mind.”

“It’s Bree,” Patrick mumbled.  Now it was Chet’s turn to roll his eyes.  Bree still wasn’t Chet’s favorite person but he had to admit she was a tough girl and nice.  Sort of.

“What about her?”

“She won’t talk to me,” Patrick said with a sigh. 

*****

“I’m sorry, Melanie, aside from buying a house, there aren’t that many apartments available right now,” Jennifer said.  They had spent two hours going over listings, all of which were either out of Mel’s price range or in areas that were too inconvenient.  “Of course, I’ll keep on looking.”  Jennifer promised.

“I know you will.  I guess it doesn’t help that I don’t have a job,” Melanie mumbled.

“But you came back?  I mean...”

“I know.  I had to leave Portland.  I made a big mistake cutting off all ties to Pittsburgh.  Even my relationship with JR, what little there was, suffered.”

“She loves you, you’re her mother,” Jennifer assured Mel as she offered her another cup of tea.

“I know she loves me but she just doesn’t like me.  I don’t think anyone likes me,” Melanie said sounding like a lost little girl.

“Oh, Melanie, that’s not true,” Jennifer said as she wrapped a motherly arm around the younger woman.  “We’ve all made mistakes.  I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for giving up on Justin when he needed me most, but that’s all in the past.  Once JR knows you’re back for good, you’ll see, she’ll be excited.  Just take it slow and don’t push it.  JR has become a very independent young woman.”

“I know,” Mel said with pride.  “Debbie’s been keeping me updated.  And Michael too.  I can’t believe JR actually runs the store practically all by herself.”

“According to Brian, she’s made a number of improvements.”

“Brian!” Mel grumbled.  “What does he have to do with it?”

*****

Bree and Ashley walked down the hall from the cafeteria toward the classrooms for the younger children in the school.  Lunch period was over and they were on their way to class.

Suddenly Ashley grabbed Bree's arm.

"Ow!" Bree responded.  "What was that for?" she asked her friend as she rubbed the spot on her arm that Ashley had squeezed.

"Look," Ashley whispered as she pointed across the hall, at the same time pulling Bree into the alcove that led to the restrooms.

Bree followed the direction that Ashley indicated.  She drew in a deep breath as she observed what Ashley had seen.  It was Patrick talking to Brittany beside her locker.  Bree watched in silence as Brittany blatantly flirted with her Patrick.  Brittany was batting her eyelashes at Patrick as she listened to whatever he was saying to her.  They were too far away for Bree to hear.  Then Brittany giggled, a soft trilling sound, that made Patrick grin.  Bree watched the girl bat her eyelashes some more.

"Brittany sure knows how to make the boys happy," Ashley whispered.

"She's a ...."

"What?" Ashley asked.

"I...I...I don't know what she is, but I hate her," Bree declared.

"Oh Bree!" Ashley exclaimed.  She rarely heard Bree be mean to anyone, and almost never heard her say she hated somebody.  "It's not really Brittany's fault."

"Yes, it is," Bree declared.  "Look at her.  She's flirting with Patrick.  She's ... sucking him in.  I hate her."

Ashley watched as Brittany touched Patrick's arm and batted her eyes at him once again.  "She is pretty," Ashley observed.

"If you like that kind of obvious ... thing," Bree stated trying to quote her older father who often said something like that.  She knew it meant being blatant about the way someone behaved.  "She's disgusting."

Ashley shook her head.  She didn't think Brittany was that bad, and she couldn't believe that Bree was so bitter.  She didn't know what to say so she simply pulled Bree into a hug.  She felt her friend take a shuddering breath before Bree's back turned to steel and she stood up straight, pushing away from Ashley.

"I have to go to class," Bree said brusquely.

"Okay," Ashley agreed.  "See you after school?"

"Maybe," Bree replied.  She looked down the hall seeing Patrick walk away from Brittany.  He must be going to class himself. 

"It'll be okay after ... awhile," Ashley said hopefully.  She felt really bad for her friend. 

Bree gave Ashley a quick hug, letting her know that she was sort of okay, even though she felt like crap.  Ashley turned and headed down the hall in the opposite direction that Patrick had gone.  That was where her class was.

Before Bree could step out from the alcove to the restrooms, she was confronted by Brittany who had snuck up on her while she hugged Ashley.

"Hi, Bree," Brittany said with an overly cheerful tone.

Bree bristled at the words.  "Hello," she replied sullenly.

"You look ... nice today," Brittany added.

Bree knew it was not meant as a compliment.  "You look ... like you always do," Bree said trying not to be too sarcastic.

"Thanks," Brittany said with a smile.  She obviously missed the sarcasm.  "Are you going to the school dance?" she asked.

Bree frowned.  "I don't know yet," she replied hoping to be non-committal about her intentions.

"Oh?  I guess you don't have someone to take you," Brittany said with a grin.  "I'm going with Patrick.  Did you know?"

"Yes, I know," Bree responded.  "Patrick tells me most things."

Brittany's face fell.  She had hoped to spring her news on Bree, but apparently Patrick had told the girl that they were going to the dance together.  She was sick of hearing about Bree and all of her accomplishments whenever she and Patrick were talking.

Bree enjoyed the look on Brittany's face when she said that Patrick had told her about asking Brittany to the dance.  It helped her feel a little better, but it still rubbed Bree the wrong way that Patrick hadn't asked her to the dance.

"I need to touch up my lipstick," Brittany said as she brushed past Bree and entered the restroom.

Bree stuck her tongue out at Brittany's back.  It just wasn't fair that Brittany got to wear makeup and had boobies.  One of these days Bree hoped she would be able to compete with Brittany on equal ground.  In the meantime there wasn't much she could do.

Dejectedly she headed to her classroom.

*****

When the bell finally rang signalling the end of the school day, Bree was glad to be going outside.  She gathered up her books and put them in her backpack.  She grabbed her coat and said goodbye to her teacher.  She knew it was one of the days she was supposed to take the bus home.  That meant that Patrick would be on the bus too, and she wasn't looking forward to seeing him.  At least Brittany didn't ride on their bus.  The thought of Patrick and Brittany making googly eyes at each other made her nauseous.  She decided she wouldn't speak to Patrick on the bus, no matter what.

Ashley ran up to her as soon as she came out of the building.  "Patrick was looking for you," she told Bree.  "His dad is picking him up and you're supposed to go home with them."

"No," Bree said.  "I'm not going with them."

"But Patrick already talked to the bus driver.  It's all arranged.  He told me."

"I don't care,  I'll walk home."

"Bree, you can't do that.  It's way too far to walk," Ashley protested.

"I don't care."  Bree started to walk towards the road.

"Bree!  Bree!" Patrick called as he ran up to his cousin.  "My dad's here.  You're supposed to come home with us."

Bree did not respond.  She just shook her head and kept on walking.

"Bree?"  Patrick didn't know what was going on.  He called after her, "Bree, come back.  My dad's waiting."

"She said she's going to walk home," Ashley said as she came over to Patrick.

"That's crazy."

"I know, but that's what she said."

"I better tell my dad."

"Yeah," Ashley agreed.  "I have to get on the bus, but don't let Bree go home by herself," she pleaded.

"I won't," Patrick declared as he ran back to his father's Navigator.

As soon as Patrick explained what Bree was doing, John told him to get into the car and he started after Bree.  She had only got a little way along the road before John caught up to her.  He pulled the Navigator to the shoulder in front of her and got out of the vehicle.

"Briana Victoria Kinney-Taylor, what do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

Bree knew she was in trouble.  She didn't think she had ever heard her Uncle John use her full name before, certainly not with that tone of voice.  She drew in a breath and replied, "I'm walking home," she stated.

"Do you have any idea how far home is?"

"Over two miles, I think," Bree said.

"Two and three quarter miles to be exact," John informed her.

"I can do it," Bree said.

"I have no doubt that you can, but that's not the point.  It's not safe for you to walk on these roads.  There are no sidewalks and the cars whiz by.  The speed limit is fifty miles an hour."

Just then a car sped past reinforcing John's words.

"I'll stay on the shoulder," Bree said.

"Bree, this is nonsense.  Why do you want to walk home?"

"I ... I just ... want to be by myself," Bree muttered.

"Can you tell me what's wrong?" John asked squatting down in front of her so that they were on the same level.  Bree shook her head.  "I know something's wrong," John continued, "please tell me what I can do."

Bree thought about that for a moment.  "I'll come home with you, if you don't ask me any more questions," she told him.

"Deal," John said, deciding that this was the most feasible solution for the moment.  There was no way he was going to let Bree walk home, and he didn't think he should pick her up bodily and strap her into the car.

Bree heaved a sigh.  She had made the deal, so now she had to live by it.  She followed her uncle to the Navigator.  Patrick was sitting in the front passenger seat, so she climbed into the back thankful that Patrick wouldn't be sitting beside her.

They rode home in silence.