Trying to fall asleep on Friday night reminded Mel of her childhood. Back then, trying to doze off on Christmas Eve night was next to impossible. The anticipation of the next day was so intense that falling asleep would be a blessing, making the next day arrive sooner. Her last memory of looking at the clock was at two a.m. when she punched her pillow and vowed to stop thinking and fall asleep. It worked.
Sunshine blasted through the white sheers on her window facing the east side of the backyard. With a leap out of bed, Mel pulled the flimsy curtains aside and assessed the day. She ran to the south window and gazed out over the park and the water beyond. She looked at the trees—there was a light breeze—and up to the sky—soft wispy clouds. “Yay, today is perfect.”
Mel threw on her bathrobe and ran downstairs. Normally, eating breakfast in one’s bathrobe was a flagrant act of misconduct in a southern home that valued mealtime etiquette, but she didn’t care—at least not today. If Betsy demanded it, Mel would wash dishes for a week as penance.
“What the hell are you wearing?” Betsy asked as Mel plopped down into her assigned seat at the breakfast table.
“Sorry, but I don’t have time to screw around this morning. I want to take my time getting dressed for my date. Pass the potato casserole, please.” Mel grabbed the coffee carafe and turned her cup upright, filling it to the top. “What?” She gulped her coffee as she noticed everyone staring at her.
“I’m giving everyone fair warning right now. If anyone else gets a crazy notion to start eating in their sleepwear, they’ll have me to answer to. Am I clear? This is a onetime pass you’re getting, Ms. Davis,” Betsy said, scowling at Mel. “I swear, what is this world coming to? May I have the sausage, please?”
***
With her linen napkin in hand, Mel wiped her mouth and asked to be excused. Everyone around the table chuckled as Betsy tried to remain stern.
“Yes, you may be excused, but you’re helping me with the dishes tonight. I want to see how you look before you bolt out the door. Now scram.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Mel said, giggling. She got up, threw the napkin on her chair, and ran upstairs.
“Man… is she stoked or what?” Adam said.
Ellie sighed with a puppy-love expression on her face. “I know the feeling. She’s super excited. I think a lot of us have been in her shoes at one time or another. I just hope she actually finds a love connection.”
Erik reached for Abby’s hand and kissed it, then leaned over and kissed Maili’s forehead. Her mouth was far too messy to get near. The baby was just beginning to eat rice cereal, her first solid food. More of it was on her face than in her tummy.
Back in her room, Mel laid on the bed the outfit she was going to wear today. She picked out a pair of sandals that would look cute but still be appropriate for bike riding. She wasn’t about to mess up the day with a shoe fiasco like the one she had in St. Thomas. Satisfied with her choices, she dove into the shower to begin the hour-long process of looking perfect for Dan. With her hair slicked back into a high ponytail, her makeup applied to perfection, and a pair of silver hoop earrings on, she was ready to get dressed. Before she slipped on her new top, Mel spritzed Chanel in the most discreet places, hoping that by some deliriously sexy chance, Dan would find an opportunity to inhale the fragrance. While riffling through her underwear drawer, she found her favorite ivory strapless lace bra and pantie set and slipped them on. Wearing something that decadent made her feel not only sexy but a bit naughty, too, just the way she liked it. With lotion rubbed on her legs and feet until they glistened, and deodorant under her arms, it was time to put on her new top and capris. After she dressed, Mel gave herself a thorough once-over in the full-length mirror attached to the back of the bathroom door. There, that’s perfect. I think Dan is going to like my fresh-faced but demurely sexy appearance.
“See you guys later,” Mel called out after getting Betsy’s clothing approval. “I already fed Lucy, but if I’m not home by six o’clock, please feed her and take her for a walk. I’ll call home in a few hours.”
Ellie hollered back, “We’ve got it covered. Go have fun.”
That’s exactly what I intend to do. Mel grabbed her purse off the foyer table, made sure her cell was inside, and left out the front door. As she walked to her car, she made sure Dan’s address was programmed into her phone’s navigation. Good, it’s there, and I’m off. It will be interesting to see how he lives and what his house looks like.
***
Mel liked the idea that it was only ten minutes by car from Abby’s house to Dan’s. That works out a lot better than fighting the traffic from here to Wando Crossing, or worse yet, flying to St. Thomas. Finding a parking spot on Ashley Avenue was much easier than on South Battery. That’s a plus, no tourists. “I guess this is it.” She looked down at the address she had programmed into her phone and then up at the address on the post next to the door. “Yeah, it’s the right house.” She craned her neck to see beyond the black iron gates. There’s his Range Rover. Okay, I guess I should knock on the door.
Mel gave the house a quick assessment before she crossed the street and walked up the four brick steps. Directly in front of her stood a magnificent three-story red brick Federal home with black shutters adorning every window. The typical home in Charleston had a wooden side door that led to a courtyard or private garden. Dan’s home had a second-and third-floor balcony that overlooked his garden area. To Mel’s surprise, behind the outer door and iron fence was not only a beautiful bricked patio with a lush, tropical garden but also a wonderful in-ground swimming pool. She pressed the buzzer and waited.
Dan opened his front door and welcomed Mel in. Dotty and Dixie were at his side, sniffing the new human who was entering their domain.
“I have to admit, they rule the house and pool. They go swimming every day. It’s nice to see you, Mel. Come on in if you can get past the girls.”
“Hi, Dan, hi, girls.” She laughed as she squeezed into the foyer, with both dogs consuming most of the space.
“Dixie, Dotty, move aside. Where are your manners? Sorry… once they’re familiar with your scent, they won’t be as nosy.”
“Won’t the perfume confuse them? Maybe next time I’ll be wearing something other than Chanel.” She knelt and petted both dogs.
“Would you like a glass of wine before we go? We can sit on the patio for a few minutes without the dogs. I wouldn’t want them jumping in the pool right before we leave anyway.”
“That sounds nice. Your home is beautiful, Dan.”
“Would you like the nickel tour?”
“Sure, if you don’t mind. I think these tour prices should go up with the cost of living though. Haven’t they been the nickel tour for about a hundred years already?”
He laughed and gave her a wink. “You know, you’re right. I’m calling it the fifty-cent tour from now on. Right this way.”
Dan reached for Mel’s hand and led the way. Just holding his hand felt wonderfully natural, even though his gesture took her by surprise.
“The downstairs has five rooms. There’s the living room, sunroom, dining room, kitchen, and a bath. On the second floor are two bedrooms, a library, a sitting room, and two baths. The third floor, which used to be the servants’ quarters, has three bedrooms, a sitting room, and two baths. It’s the perfect size for a family. I lived in a condo off Tradd up until two years ago when I bought this place. I’ve had to do a little renovation work, but she has sturdy bones and the wonderful features these old homes in Charleston have. I really love living here.”
“I can see that. It’s very welcoming and homey. It’s a beautiful house. I love the way the sunroom leads right out to the pool, and the flagstone floor is wonderful.”
“Yeah, that’s original along with all of the wide-plank floors. This house was built in 1827, and thank God nobody gutted it to make it modern inside.”
“So you love antiquity and history?” That’s right. His profile said he loves antiques.
“Definitely. How about you? I’m sorry. Would you prefer white or rosé?” Dan pulled two bottles of wine out of the refrigerator and showed Mel.
“The rosé looks delicious.”
“Great choice.” He cut the metal seal and popped the cork. The wine glasses sat on the upper shelf of an antique sideboard with wonderful rippled-glass doors. He filled both glasses and handed Mel one. “Shall we?”
“Sure, lead the way.”
Dan walked through the sunroom to the private garden next to the pool. They sat at an iron table with four chairs around it. The tabletop was covered in intricate pieces of mosaic tile. The thick-cushioned seat covers were patterned in an aqua and silver fleur-de-lis motif, and a hand painted clay flowerpot sat on the center of the table.
“It’s beautiful out here and so private even though the street is just thirty feet away.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty amazing what you can do with a lot of hedges and a sturdy iron fence. It makes for a really private setting and a decent sound barrier, too.”
“So back to your earlier question, yes, I do love antiques and old homes. I’ll show you the house I live in next time we’re together. It’s fabulous, especially if you like antiques. My best friend owns it, the same friend that has the beach house in St. Thomas. We’ve known each other since kindergarten. It broke my heart when she moved to St. Thomas for a few years, but now she’s back, and everything is wonderful. I moved in with her last summer. Before that, I had an apartment not too far from my job.”
“Do you like the fashion industry?”
Wow… he remembers what my occupation is. This guy impresses the hell out of me. “Yeah, actually, I do. It’s fun to be creative and kind of artsy. I have less than a year left, and my apprenticeship will be complete. I’ll be a full-fledged fashion designer and can finally wear that title proudly.” She laughed and stole a glance at Dan. His smiling eyes made her heart beat faster.
“Are you ready to go? I think there’s a few bikes reserved for us at the rental shop, but lunch comes first. We’ll walk around and check the restaurants out, but you get to pick. Whatever restaurant strikes your fancy is where we’ll have lunch. You’re going to love Folly Beach. It’s like a little slice of paradise right here at home.”
“I like that analogy… our paradise at home. No need to fly to the Caribbean to find it. It’s in our own backyard.”