August 6, 2010 @ 6:31 am | Filed under: Books,The Writing Life
MELROSE MIRACLE
by Staci Wilder
Chapter Eight
Ella had been soaking in the tub for only ten minutes when she heard the knock on the door. Tempted at first to ignore it, she sank lower in the water, loving the way the lavender scented bubbles tickled the sides of her neck. She closed her eyes and allowed the hot water to soothe tired muscles. If she wasn’t careful, she might just fall asleep—
The knock came again, this time louder. Ella blew out a sigh and stood. She reached for a thick white towel, and then draped it around her dripping body. Easing out of the bathroom, she tiptoed across the carpet, trailing a line of water behind her. One glance in the peephole told her the visitor was Torrie.
“Hey,” she opened the door just enough to see most of the girl’s face. “What’s up?”
“Were you in the shower?” Torrie’s tone was immediately apologetic. “I’m sorry, honey. Listen, a bunch of us are going out for a bite to eat. Want to come?”
“I don’t think so, thanks.” Ella wished she had the energy, but all she wanted was to finish her bath, talk to her baby, and slide between the sheets.
Torrie peeked around her, looking inside the room. “You mean you’re staying in tonight?”
“Afraid so.” Ella grinned, thinking of her bath water growing colder by the minute. It didn’t seem as though Torrie were in any particular hurry. Ella stepped back, making sure the door hid her from anyone that might be passing down the hallway. “Come on in.”
Torrie walked in and dropped her purse on the end table. She spotted the chocolate-chip cookie left by the hotel staff the night before and reached for it. “You mean you haven’t devoured this yet?” The girl’s eyes danced with glee. “They are so yummy!”
“Go for it.” Ella pulled the towel tighter, trying not to compare her own curvy body with the model-straight form of Torrie. “You eat it.” She shrugged. “Too many Weight Watcher points, anyway.”
“Hm?” Torrie took the cookie and sank onto the sofa. “Weight Watcher has points now? I’ve never been to a meeting. Are they fun?”
Ella laughed. Was this girl for real? “Fun? Uh…no. Don’t think ‘fun’ is the word. Necessary, maybe. At least for some of us.”
Torrie broke off a large chunk of cookie and held it up. “You sure?”
Ella waved a hand. “Be my guest.” It was disappointing to watch the delectable goodie disappear, but that was at least fifteen WW flex points she wouldn’t be tempted to spend, after all. Thank goodness for small favors, even when they did come in the form of Torrie—with an ‘ie’.
“I’ll be back in a second, okay?” Ella grabbed a bottle of water and set it on the coffee table in front of Torrie. “Make yourself comfy. I’m going to put something on besides this towel.”
In the bathroom, Ella let the water drain from the tub, frowning as the lukewarm liquid spun from sight. So much for her relaxing bubble bath. Grabbing her robe from the hook behind the door, she slipped it on and then ran a comb through her damp hair.
“You sure you don’t want to go out tonight?” Torrie asked as Ella flipped the bathroom light off. “It’ll be fun. There’s sure to be some cute single men there…”
Torrie hung the term out there like it was a much sought-after, long-cherished prize. Just there for the plucking.
Ella sank onto the opposite end of the sofa and shook her head. “I’m sure.” She gestured toward the bed. “I’m calling it an early night.”
“You have a little daughter, right?” Torrie pointed to the silver-framed photo on the nightstand.
Ella reached for it and handed it to the girl. “Yes, this is Chloe.” She smiled with pride. “She’s my little bundle of sunshine.”
“And Chloe’s daddy?”
Ella stared at Torrie, not quite believing the girl had the audacity to ask the question in such a blunt way.
Torrie’s blue eyes rounded with dismay. “I’m sorry! That was rude, wasn’t it?” She tapped the photo and then handed it back to Ella. “Cute little girl. She looks like you. So you’re divorced then?”
Ella stared down into the picture of the smiling toddler. Chloe did look like her. “She has her father’s personality.” Stephen had been full of life—loving people, adventure, and their life together. “And no,” she said quietly, “I’m not divorced. My husband, Chloe’s father, passed away a couple of years ago.”
“No way!” Torrie’s mouth hung open in shock. “But you’re so…young.”
Ella remembered a time not that long ago when she’d felt as invincible as Torrie now sounded. Too vital to succumb to life’s hardships, and certainly too young to lose a husband.
“Well,” she hedged, “young or not, here I am.” Ella didn’t feel the need to share the intimate details of her life, or her loss, with Torrie.
“So what was it like?” Apparently Torrie wasn’t picking up on her vibe. “I mean, to lose your husband. And to have a baby on top of all that. Whoosh…” The girl tossed a long lock of her platinum hair over one shoulder and made a face. “How did you survive it?”
There were some days Ella still wasn’t sure she had survived. Days when single parenthood loomed dark and endless. Nights when loneliness knocked on her bedroom door, offering nothing more than tormented memories and a cold spot in the bed next to her.
“Ella?” Torrie’s voice, still inquisitive, softened. “I’m asking too many questions, aren’t I?” She at least had the decency to look properly chagrined.
“No, that’s okay.” Ella pulled the sash of her robe tighter. “I lost the love of my life. My best friend.” She shrugged. It was as simple and as complicated as that.
“Oh, wow.” Torrie stared at her. “I’m sorry, Ella. I can’t even imagine.”
No, Ella didn’t suppose the girl could imagine. Until they were faced with it, how could anyone really relate to this kind of loss?
“I guess I’d better scoot. The others will be waiting for me.” Torrie stood. “Are you sure you won’t change your mind and come with us?”
“Not this time.” Ella forced a smile. “You have fun, okay?”
Torrie hesitated. “If you change your mind, we’ll just be down the block. Sal’s Pizza.”
“Got it,” Ella smiled. She couldn’t help but like this girl. Whether it was the Southern drawl or the childlike innocence, Ella really liked this Torrie with an ‘ie’.
After turning her skin to a prune-like state, Ella dressed in her pajamas and climbed into the bed with her cell phone. Punching in Reggie’s number, she waited impatiently as it rang. Once…twice…three times…
“Hello?” Reggie’s voice sounded frazzled, not at all like the normal, placid person Ella knew and loved.
“Reg? It’s me. Is everything okay? Is Chloe alright?”
She heard Reggie stifle a giggle on the other end of the line. “Your daughter is absolutely fine. Me, on the other hand, well…I’m a mess!”
Ella smiled and sank back against the fluffy pillows, relieved to hear her best friend laughing. “Let me guess. She spit her peas out at you. Or…no, wait, I know! You gave her a bath and she splashed you.”
“Bingo.” Reggie hadn’t sounded this tired in ages. “I don’t know how you do it, Ella. Motherhood is hard work.”
“Tell me about it, sister!” Ah, maybe this arrangement wasn’t working out too badly after all. Ella was experiencing an opportunity of a lifetime and Reggie was exploring life beyond herself. Not a bad trade, if you asked Ella.
“Hey, El.” Reggie must have changed positions because there was a moment of static and then her voice, close and clear again. “Have you tried Mocha Lights yet?”
“Mocha Lights?” Ella frowned. “Oh! You mean the coffee shop you told me about? No, haven’t had time yet.”
“Do me a favor?” Reggie’s voice took on a wistful tone. “Go there soon, okay? And have a caramel macchiato for me. Promise?” Reggie pressed. “Will you do that?”
Ella laughed. Reggie might be having a grand time with Chloe but it was woefully apparent that she missed the perks of her LA life.
“Sure, I can do that. One caramel macchiato for you, and something considerably lighter for me.”
When Ella punched the off button five minutes later, she felt a bit sorry for her best friend. And more than a tad sorry for herself. Reggie might be missing her life here in Hollywood.
But Ella missed her baby girl.
*****
Luke hadn’t wanted to go out.
Now—three hours later and packed like a sardine in a booth with Ernie, a fellow crew member, and three of the contest finalists—he still didn’t want to be here. Sal’s was jumping tonight, even if it was a Monday night, and the noise level alone was enough to give a guy a migraine.
Add Torrie Tyler to that equation and the headache only grew.
Not that Luke didn’t like the girl. He didn’t even know her, for Pete’s sake. She seemed nice enough and, he had to admit, he liked listening to her talk. But after three hours, even the most melodic of voices tended to grate on a man’s last nerve.
“So anyway, my Mama said no way could I work there.” Torrie went on with her story, leaning in close to his right side. “But I took the job anyway, eventually working my way from fry girl right on up to short order.” She shrugged her slim shoulders, which were bare except for two skinny spaghetti straps. “It wasn’t a glamorous job, but it’s where I learned to cook.”
Luke nodded. “Impressive, really.” He caught Ernie’s eyes across the table. Rescue me, man! Ernie grinned and gave him the thumbs up sign. “Hey, we all have to start somewhere, right?” Luke stifled a yawn.
“That’s so true.” Torrie’s eyes grew large and she stared hard at him. “What about you, Luke? What was your first job?”
Oh, Lord, I don’t want to be here. The prayer slipped from his mind heavenward. When would he learn to pay attention to his instincts? He hadn’t wanted to come out in the first place. He should have stood firm and stayed home, no matter how pathetic Ernie’s cajoling became.
Luke knew the truth, knew why he’d come tonight even though it wasn’t his custom to keep late nights during the week. He thought Ella Paglia might be here. When Kurt had said they were meeting the contestants for dinner at Sal’s, he just assumed Ella would be a part of that group.
But she hadn’t shown up, and Luke was sorry he’d come.
“You know what?” He forced a smile he hoped was brighter than he felt at the moment. “My story would bore you. Really. And…oh—” Luke glanced at his wristwatch—“would you look at the time. I’m afraid I’ve got to run, guys.”
“Really?” Torrie set her mouth in a mock pout. “Can’t you stay a few more minutes?”
Already Luke was pushing on Andy, a fellow crew member, making him get up so he could slide out of the booth. “No, I’d better not. I’ll see you soon.” He tossed a final wave to the group and headed for the entrance.
When he pushed open the door and sucked in a lungful of fresh air, it was none too soon.
*****
The cab pulled up in front of a classy-looking strip of cafes and specialty shops on Melrose Avenue. Nestled between a baby boutique and a nail salon was Mocha Lights. Ella handed a couple of bills to the cabbie. “Keep the change.”
The man nodded, briefly, his eyes meeting hers in the rear view mirror. “Thanks, ma’am. Want me to wait?”
Ella glanced at the coffee shop, which seemed to be alive with both, patrons and activity, in spite of the late hour. She shook her head. “No. I think I’ll be here a while.”
Stepping back from the curb, she narrowly avoided bumping head-first into a passer-by. The sidewalks were full of people. Many of the surrounding shops seemed to be open, though it was well past normal business hours. Ella had always heard that folks on the west coast didn’t start their days until later. They must end them much later as well.
Taking in a deep breath, Ella pushed open the door to the coffee shop and walked inside. Mocha Lights seemed to be a cozy combination of Starbucks and a local library. While a full coffee bar stood on the left-hand side—complete with bar seating and individual tables—rows of dark mahogany bookshelves, at least seven feet high, lined the right-hand side of the space. While there must be at least thirty people in the small store, the fragrant aroma of fresh-brewed coffee and the quiet reverence around the bookshelves lent an air of quaint elegance to the place.
Ella waited in line to place her order from a tall kid with a long shaggy haircut working behind the counter.
“Can I help you?” He brushed the hair from his forehead and squinted at her.
“Sure. How about a grande caramel macchiato? With skim milk and no whipped cream, please.”
“’Kay. It’ll be ready in a few minutes.” He handed her the change and motioned with his head. “Feel free to look around while you wait.”
Ella nodded and moved aside to make room for the next customer in line. Pushing her wallet back inside her purse, she made her way toward the bookshelves. Many of the books were worn with age or use, but all were neat and in alphabetical order. It wasn’t until she’d pulled a dog-eared copy of Pride and Prejudice, followed by a gently used version of Catcher in the Rye, that Ella realized the shelves housed beloved classics.
She didn’t recall ever seeing a coffee shop quite like this one, and wished she’d visited Mocha Lights before now. She’d been inside for less than five minutes and already it felt more homey to her than the room she’d occupied for the past several days at the Radisson. Ella made a mental note to thank Reggie for recommending this spot.
She turned a corner and made another delightful discovery. Behind the shelves, tucked in a small yet cozy alcove, about half the size of her hotel room, were half a dozen stuffed chairs and large floor pillows scattered about the space. Pleased with her find, and anxious to return to the reading area with a couple of good books, Ella walked back to the counter just as the teen finished making her drink.
“Thanks.” She accepted the steamy cup of coffee. “Are you always this crowded?”
The boy grinned and nodded. “Pretty much. It’s a rad place, huh?”
“Yeah, really rad.” Ella smiled, thinking of the rowdy group of high schoolers who frequented Max’s Diner back in Milltown, and how much they would enjoy a trendy hang-out spot like this one.
“Have you worked here long?” She perched on a stool and watched as he poured more milk into the steamer.
“Most of this semester.” The boy nodded, and pushed a lever, sending a hissing noise into the air around them. “Micah’s a good boss.” He tossed his head, sending the thick wave of bangs far enough from his eyes so he could see her better. “Have you met Micah?”
Ella took a cautious sip of the hot drink and shook her head. “This is my first time here.”
“Really?” The kid smiled for the first time, revealing a mouth full of braces. “I bet it won’t be your last. This place is addictive.”
“I’m sure it is.” Ella glanced around, fully understanding how this charming coffee shop with its shelves full of timeless works of literature could be a definite drawing card to a select crowd. She smiled at the boy. “And I’m sure you’re right. I’ll most likely be back.”
“Normally Micah is here. I’m Lex, by the way.” He sheepishly reached out to shake her hand.
“Hi, Lex. My name is Ella.” She smiled at Lex, thinking how handsome the boy was when he smiled.
“Micah had to run an errand or he’d be here now. You should check us out on Tuesday nights.” He used his thumb to motion toward the back. “That’s the book club night. I think the group is reading Mansfield Park right now. By Jane Austen.”
Lex reached across her and picked up the top brochure from a small stand on the counter. He opened it up and pointed to a highlighted paragraph. “Or maybe you’d be interested in Blended Hearts? They meet once a month, on Friday nights.”
Ella frowned. “Is that a singles group?” She clenched her fist and stuck it in her lap, reminded once again how naked her ring finger felt without her solid gold wedding band around it.
“No.” The boy laughed. “That’s what most people think at first though. It’s a support group for single parents. They talk about issues with their kids.” He shrugged and looked up as the front door swung open again and a new string of customers streamed inside. “Stuff like that.”
“Uh huh. I see.” Ella took the brochure and stuck it in her bag. “Well, Lex, it was nice to meet you.” She smiled at him and was rewarded with a lop-sided grin in return. “I think I’ll look around a bit more and then head out. But I’ll be back.”
Twenty minutes later Ella regretfully closed the copy of a biography of T.S. Eliot and gave a last wave to Lex, who was still busy behind the counter. Already she looked forward to the next opportunity to visit Mocha Lights.
Outside on the sidewalk, she paused to glance inside the baby boutique, and then walked a little further, doing more window shopping. It was getting late and she really should be heading back to the hotel, but she was reluctant to end the most peaceful evening she’d had so far in Los Angeles.
“Ella?”
She whirled around, already recognizing the husky voice of Luke Abney. Her heart hammered as she searched for her voice. “Luke! Hello! Wow…I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Ella could have kicked herself as she gazed up at him. Coming up with cute comebacks and memorable one-liners certainly wasn’t her forte.
His grin lit his entire face, somewhat shrouded by the now familiar purple Lakers cap. “You know what?” He reached out and took her by the elbow, gently pulling her out of the way as a noisy group traipsed past them. “I didn’t expect to see you either.”
Ella felt her cheeks turn hot and she was grateful for the darkness. How long would it be before Luke Abney noticed she always managed to blush a disturbing shade of red whenever he spoke to her?
He looked down at her, his fingers still lightly on her arm. “How are you?” His voice, low and so close to her ear, sent shivers of—anticipation or dread, Ella wasn’t sure which—dancing up and down her spine. Three short simple words and yet, combined with the intimacy of his tone and his touch on her skin, they created such intensity inside her that Ella didn’t quite trust herself to speak.
She nodded. “I’m good,” she finally managed to utter.
“You did great today.” He edged even closer. “Is it okay for me to say that? Does it make you even more nervous knowing that people are watching you?”
Ella felt all she could do was nod again. She finally looked up at him, knowing that to do so was the same as giving her knees permission to quake and her heart justification to speed up.
If he only knew. Yes, Luke, it does make me more nervous. But not for the reasons he’d thought. It was knowing that Luke Abney’s deep blue eyes followed her every move on set that caused her pulse to do a little break dance of its own inside her.
“Thank you.” She managed to smile. “And yes, it’s okay for you to talk about the show. And yes—” she gave him a playful punch in the arm—“it does make me nervous knowing I’m being watched so closely.”
He laughed, and Ella loved the sound of it.
“I have to hand it to you. And to the others, for that matter. I don’t see how you guys do it. I’ve worked behind the camera for years now and I’m still amazed that anyone can cook, talk, and keep up with the camera changes—all at the same time.”
Ella relaxed, enjoying his easy banter. They walked together for a while, talking, not really paying attention to the time or where they were. It wasn’t until they reached a corner a couple of blocks away that Luke paused. Ella glanced up at him, noticing subtle changes on his features. His grin had been replaced by brows now knitted in thought, and he worked his jaw as though irritated.
“You okay?”
Her words seemed to startle him, but he recovered quickly. “Sure, fine.”
He smiled down at her, but Ella felt the warmth of it was now forced.
“It’s getting late. I guess I’d better hail a cab.”
Luke jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “My truck is parked a few blocks back. Want me to give you a lift?”
Five minutes earlier and Ella might have accepted. But now there was something she couldn’t quite pinpoint in Luke’s mannerisms that puzzled her. He’d been totally into their conversation and then—boom!—something had claimed his attention.
“No, no. That’s okay. I’ll just catch a cab.”
A door opened in the corner shop and Luke jumped. They watched as two people—a man and a much older woman—emerged, locked the door, and rounded the corner. Luke blew out a breath and smiled down at her.
“You sure? Because I don’t mind taking you back to the hotel.”
“I’m sure. Really. I’m sure you had errands or plans tonight. I don’t want to keep you from anything.”
“Nothing special.” Luke shrugged, but his grin was genuine and bright again. He hailed a passing cab and helped her climb inside. Ella found it impossible to take her eyes off of his as he shut the taxi door between them.
“Bye.” She watched his mouth form the word as he stepped back onto the curb, and she fought the overwhelming urge to push open the cab door and take him up on the offer of that ride home.
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