A Promise to Remember (27 page)

They walked to the water's edge together; then Blair waded in
up to his knees. He lifted the crustaceans high above his head.
"Little lobsters, long may you live in harmony and freedom." He
dropped them into the water and returned to the shore, then
lifted his right hand toward the ocean. "Go in peace."

"Melanie, I don't think we can ignore this problem any
longer."

Melanie's arm stopped halfway through the sleeve of her
jacket. Apparently she wouldn't be going home just yet. "What
problem?"

She had not told Carl about any of the troubles she'd experienced over the last couple weeks. She hoped they would
eventually die down and did not want to burden him with the
squabbles of the employees.

"The price changes, the signage. I haven't said anything until
now because I assumed you were just nervous and settling in.
I hoped these issues would eventually come around. According to your references, your postings were flawless at your old
position."

"And they are this time. I always triple check them. What
errors have you found?"

"Come into my office."

Melanie followed the man into his office, wondering what
form of sabotage had befallen her this time.

"I just made a walk through the store. Several signs were
on the wrong items, and several more had the wrong prices on them. I know we've had several complaints from customers
about prices incorrectly posted."

He lifted a sign from his desk. "Look. This was in front of the
store-brand coffee. It says ninety-nine cents a pound."

Melanie leaned forward. "It also says Red Delicious apples
at the bottom. Mr. Brown, I put that sign in the correct spot
not more than two hours ago. Ask Freddy-he was stocking the
apples when I did it."

"Why, then, do you suppose I found it four aisles over? Did
it magically transport itself?"

"I don't know. The same way ..." She stopped herself. She
didn't want to go into all the other stuff now. It would seem
like an excuse.

"The same way, what?" He sank down into his seat. "The same
way someone got into your locker? The same way someone took
a knife to your four tires?"

"How did you know all that?"

"I may not say much, but I am not deaf, and most certainly
am not dumb. I've been seeing what's been going on here since
you arrived. You never came to me about it, so I never broached
the subject."

"Do you know who's doing it?"

"No. That's another reason I didn't bring it up. I've given
repeated general warnings, but until I know who's doing this,
there's not much I can do."

"If you know about all that, then surely you understand that
I am not the person putting the signs in the wrong places."

"When this first started happening, I immediately suspected
something was wrong. I called Mr. Mortensen at your old store,
and he confirmed that your sign placement was always perfect.
So that tells me we have a different kind of problem on our
hands. I'm not sure what we can do about it."

"I'm hoping that whoever is behind all this will eventually
tire of it and go on about his or her business."

"That was my hope, as well, but I don't see that happening.
Do you?"

Melanie shook her head. "Mr. Brown, when my son died,
the worse thing that could possibly happen to me happened.
Having to change jobs, driving extra, putting up with someone's
vicious pranks is not fun, but I can handle it. Maybe after I've
been here long enough to establish friendships, we will find out
who's behind all this. I'm prepared to stick it out, though."

Carl nodded, his eyes drooping. "I'm sure you are. I know
the past couple months have been a nightmare for you. And
the way you have been treated by some of your co-workers has
not helped. But ... I can't have my entire store suffering for it.
I've talked to upper management about our situation. Alfords
is opening a brand-new store in Orange County next month.
I've recommended they hire you as a floor manager. It has been
approved."

He looked at Melanie with the glow of expectation in his
eyes. The j ob offered would mean a promotion and more money.
Of course he expected her to be excited. Thrilled, even. She
wasn't. "I don't know what to say."

"Words always escape me in the face of good news, too."

"Carl, I appreciate very much the way you looked out for me.
But I can't take that job."

He sighed. "You're surprised, that's all. Don't make any decisions now. Take a little time and think about it. The pay would
be better; Alfords would help with moving expenses. There is an
excellent public school system there. I think it is the opportunity
of a lifetime for you."

"But I can't move."

"Change is hard, but sometimes it is for the best."

"Sometimes it's not."

His head snapped back. He stared at her evenly, then began
to speak in a soothing voice. "Of course no one wants to relocate
their school-age children, but sometimes it can't be helped. I
want you to think about it. Things may get worse around here.
Eventually I may have no choice but to take some sort of action.
Make this move now while you have a brighter opportunity to
replace it. Hmm?"

When Melanie stood, the walls of the room seemed to spin
around her. She held the chair-back for support. "I'll ... I'll
think about it."

"Good. We'll talk more in a few days, then. Have a good
night."

Melanie very much doubted that would be the case.

The long drive home was a welcome relief. It gave Melanie
time to think. Alone.

She couldn't relocate.

It wouldn't be fair to Sarah. It wouldn't be fair to Jeff-no
matter what Jake and the others thought about it. Jeff was still
in Santa Barbara, and that's where she needed to be. With her
son. She kept her promises!

Still, she doubted her job would last for long in Thousand
Oaks, not the way things were going. It wouldn't be long until
she was forced to move on, whether or not she wanted to. Better to act now while she still had choices.

If she could hold out until the lawsuit was resolved, she would
have the financial ability to wait and think things through. But
what would she do in the meantime? What had Les told her?
This was a "fast-track" case, and the trial should be held within
a year. Well, that still left the next ten months.

She picked up her cell phone and called a number she now
knew by heart. This surprised her, but so did a lot of things
these days.

Les answered on the second ring. "Melanie, I was just about
to call you."

"You were?"

"Yes. Things are starting to move along now."

"Really? Has something happened?" Relief flooded her. Perhaps it wouldn't be even ten months. Perhaps her freedom
would come much sooner.

"Yes. The Phelps' attorney filed a cross complaint today."

"Cross complaint? What's that?" Funny, it didn't sound too
much like something that was going to end all this.

"It's the legal process in motion."

The fact that he answered in vague terms rather than specifics let her know this was something she was not going to like.
"You didn't answer my question. What does that mean, a cross
complaint?"

"Well, basically, they are saying that their son was not at
fault."

A car horn blared from behind her. Only then did Melanie
realize she had stomped on the brakes.

"How could they say that? Of course he was. What do they think
happened, an earthquake shoved the two cars together?"

"Well, that's what a cross complaint is. They say it wasn't
their son at fault; they say it was Jeff."

The silver Corolla pulled up beside her. A middle-aged man
in a short-sleeved button-down screamed through his closed
window. His face glowed red and his lips kept moving, even as
he started to pass her.

Melanie was grateful for the glass that separated them. She
knew plenty well what he was saying, but at least she didn't
have to hear it.

She pulled over to the shoulder, slammed the car into park,
and flung the door open. "Jeff?" She walked around the car and
found a large rock and flung it against the steep embankment. "Jeff? They are trying to accuse Jeff of this?" She picked up
another rock. Then another, each time picturing some fancy
house belonging to the Phelps family as the target.

After about the fifth rock, she had released enough anger to
realize she'd left Les hanging on the phone-the phone still in
her car. She kicked up a cloud of dust and pebbles, screaming
words not unlike those the Corolla driver had used. "How could
they do this?" She climbed back into the car and picked up the
phone. "Les, are you still there?"

"Melanie? Are you hurt? Do I need to call for help?"

"No, there wasn't an accident. I pulled over and let off some
steam." She banged her hand against her steering wheel. "You
know, I actually had a little bit of sympathy for that family
until now. Now I want to take them to court and take away
everything they've ever had. How dare they even imply that
Jeff was at fault?"

"You need to calm down. I told you, this is the way the game
is played."

"So you're saying this is just a bluff? They won't really try to
prove Jeff was at fault?"

"It's a bluff, more or less. But they will come up with highly
qualified experts to back up some portion of their cross complaint. It's just part of the process."

Melanie took one last deep breath. "The process stinks. If
you ask me, the Wild West had a better system. They just took
out the bad guys and strung them up."

"Yes, but how many innocent people do you think got strung
up before they realized they should have maybe had a bit more
discussion? Don't worry. We'll make it through all this. We'll
prevail. We just have to stay the course in the meanwhile."

"Yeah, well, I've got to get back on the road. I'll talk to you
again in a few days." Melanie pulled back onto the 101, still shaking. She couldn't believe how warped the whole process
had become.

She approached the Santa Barbara city limits. The transfer.
She'd completely forgotten to ask Les about the time frame.
Maybe this new development would grant her financial independence a little sooner.

Melanie's stomach cranked on something bitter. Financial
independence?

This was not about the money.

March 24 dawned clear and warm. Andie wandered the halls of
her empty house. Alone. The sheer size echoed with the quietness all around. She finally found her way to her little studio
and collapsed in a seat.

Blair's anniversary commitment-made two days ago-had
lasted only a few hours. He'd worked until late last night, and
today, Saturday, he had gone in again. On Thursday he had
promised to take her out for a nice dinner tonight to make up for
the lobster. She wondered if he would forget this dinner, too.

She stared sightlessly at the art supplies lining the walls. She
thought of years past and began to cry. Blair had moved out of
her reach. Finally, she ambled into the kitchen.

The piles of paperwork from her various charities gave her
more than enough to keep busy. She picked up a stack concerning the Fair, but it only depressed her. The Fair was the only
thing that mattered anymore, and she was banned from doing
anything. She couldn't even honor Chad or her mother now.
They had taken that from her.

Several hours later, a gnawing hunger called her attention
to the fact that she had not eaten all day. She glanced at her
watch. Two-thirty.

Blair had left that morning without eating breakfast or packing a lunch. He must be hungry. She would make sandwiches,
cut up some fruit, and take a small quilt. They could have their
own picnic on the floor of his office. Maybe it would be just
the thing to begin to work through the barrier between them.
Maybe he would remember about his promise.