Ch.6 - Table Manners
The light of the sun warmed the side of her face. Swirling around it was a gentle breeze and the sound of happily chirping birds outside the window.
Not a hammer pounding on nails.
She opened one eye and then the other. She reached across the bedside table – throwing her headband and earrings to the floor in the process – and pulled her plugged in phone to her. (It might not get service for calls, but it still told the correct time.)
11 AM.
She snapped up in bed. 11 AM?!
Without thinking, Melanie tossed aside her blankets, made a mad dash for the door, opened it and ran down the stairs, as if the hounds of hell were racing behind her. She didn’t slow down until she reached the kitchen, where she immediately stopped to discover an eerily familiar scene before her. The difference this time was Jared was sitting at the table drinking coffee – she assumed – out of a mug instead of slurping water straight from the kitchen sink. Jeb was with him at the table, reading a newspaper. Maggie, as before – forever the consistent one – was cooking something at the stove. It smelled like eggs.
Jared looked up at her when she came in, and smiled. It gave her both butterflies and extreme wariness.
Hadn’t he hurt her? Wasn’t she still mad at him? Why would he smile at her if she was still mad at him? Had something happened last night? Oh god…had something happened last night? Had she said something? Had they…done something? Oh god, oh god, oh god. She couldn’t remember anything.
Jared continued to smile at her over the rim of his coffee cup.
“Good morning, Melanie,” Jeb said, snapping her out of her horrifying thoughts. She shifted her gaze to his and forced herself to at least appear relaxed.
“Good morning, Uncle Jeb,” she said as pleasantly as she could muster. Reluctantly she sat next to Jared, since the chairs had been moved around and it was more or less the easiest option to get to.
“More like afternoon,” Maggie muttered at the stove. Jeb ignored her.
“Is there something you’d like to tell us?” Jeb asked Melanie, immersing himself back in his newspaper but keeping his ears wide open.
Melanie went pale. Her eyes widened. Suddenly it was hard to breathe. Her mind was a blank slate. She couldn’t remember any words whatsoever, let alone form coherent sentences.
Did he know something she didn’t? Was it bad?
Breaking through her panic was the feel of another hand over hers under the table. It made her jump a little because her emotions were going haywire. Her eyes snapped to Jared’s since distance-wise he was the only one that was likely touching her. His eyes were already glued to hers and she realized they were the deepest eyes she’d ever seen. She could get lost in eyes that deep, and stay lost for entirely inappropriate amount of time.
He shook his head once and she blinked, comprehending his meaning a beat later. Nothing had happened. Visibly she relaxed and then redirected her focus on Jeb.
“Not that I know of,” she said, sounding half-innocent and also genuinely perplexed.
“Then what was with the stampede coming down the stairs a few minutes ago?” Maggie demanded as she plopped the pans of food and their hot pads onto the table from the stove.
Melanie all but gave a huge sigh of relief. She was more relaxed now that she’d been since before she woke up from her unexpectedly long, pleasant sleep. Jared was smiling again. This time it gave her all sorts of warm and fuzzy feelings, not wary ones. His fingers slid between hers beneath the table, and she felt shivers erupt all over her body. Everything was going to be okay. She only hoped she wasn’t blushing.
“I…” She started to smile and realized she couldn’t stop. She even gave a quiet laugh to which Jared’s smile did switch to one of amusement. “I just couldn’t believe I’d slept this long.”
Maggie snorted as she began to pile eggs onto everybody’s plates.
“Neither could I,” she muttered. “You have Jared to thank for that by the way. Boy refused to start work until you’d woken up.” She shook her head in disappointment, oblivious to Melanie’s sudden turning to Jared stricken with shock.
“Did he?” she asked, sounding nearly breathless.
“Yep,” she continued bitterly. “I couldn’t believe it myself. He always likes to get an early start. One of the things I like about him. Would’ve been even easier this time since he spent the whole night on the couch given how late the two of you got back.” She lifted her eyes briefly to glare at her niece, then sighed testily when she realized she no longer had her attention.
Melanie could not stop staring at Jared. For his part, he looked like he was about to jump out of his seat. For reasons she could not begin to comprehend, she felt like he wanted to kiss her.
“Jared,” Jeb said, breaking the trance. Immediately the two released each other’s hands and Jared turned to address the elder Stryder.
“Yeah?” he asked.
“You plan on working on the roof when you’re finished here?”
Jared nodded. “That’s the plan.”
“And…” he hesitated, aware of the other individuals in the room. “…about that other project we discussed?”
Maggie frowned, freezing her fork full of eggs halfway to her mouth.
“What other project?” she asked, confused.
“I’m going to stay late for that tonight,” Jared said, maintaining Jeb’s eye contact.
“You didn’t talk to me about any other job,” Maggie scolded her brother, but he ignored her.
“Is that what you plan to do every day?” Jeb asked.
Jared hesitated. “Maybe…I’m not sure. I’ll have to see how today goes.”
Jeb nodded, satisfied for the time being. “Alright.”
“Jebediah Stryder,” Maggie said roughly. She set down her fork with a loud clang.
As calmly as can be, Jeb turned to face her.
“Yes, Magnolia?” he inquired, as if it was the first time he’d heard her.
Maggie’s jaw dropped and Melanie couldn’t help but smile, amazed as ever when her aunt actually stood up and stalked out of the kitchen. Now her jaw dropped.
“Melanie, would you mind—”
“Doing the dishes?” she finished, humor in her voice and laughter in her eyes as she turned back from watching her aunt make her dramatic exit. “I would love to,” she burst into a quiet laughter as her expression mirrored itself onto both Jared and Jeb’s faces at the table.
“And I will help,” Jared volunteered cheerfully.
Jeb nodded, still smiling a little as he left the table to leave them to their post-breakfast chore. He set his dishes in the sink on his way out.
“Thank-you, Jared,” Melanie said softly, her laughter finally simmering down. When he met her gaze with his own she nearly lost herself in his eyes again.
“My pleasure, Melanie,” he said just as softly.
Her shivers erupted again.
…………
“I come bearing treats!” Melanie’s voice came singing out from her bedroom window.
Jared stopped hammering in mid-air, wondering if he’d heard wrong. He turned to look in the direction the sound had come and found Melanie hanging halfway out her window, one hand gripping the windowsill for balance and the other holding out a tray of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. He smiled wide.
“I have lemonade too,” she sang, and he laughed. He crossed the expanse of roof between them till they were face to face.
“Better late than never,” he said, still smiling. He reached for a cookie and took a bite out of it, moaning appreciatively. “Did you make these?” he asked with his mouth full. Instead of rolling her eyes or looking annoyed at his bad manners, Melanie kept smiling.
“I did, indeed,” she assured him.
“You could tell me if you didn’t, you know,” he said, winking at her. “I’d be happy to pass on my thanks to your aunt later.”
She smacked him lightly before he could take another bite and he laughed. She set the tray of cookies back inside her room and folded her arms across her chest.
“Hey!” he complained. “I only had one!”
“For your information,” she said succinctly. “I made all these cookies. From scratch even. Apparently my lovely relatives don’t believe in baking mixes any more than they believe in air conditioning.”
“Well,” he contemplated, chewing the last bit of his sole cookie, “Assuming you did make these yourself, and from scratch at that, you did an excellent job.”
She beamed. “Thank-you.”
“Does that get me another cookie?” he asked hopefully, smiling shamelessly.
She scoffed and rolled her eyes but grabbed a larger cookie from the tray and handed it to him. He pouted a bit, so she rolled her eyes again and handed him another. She glared at him when he held his hand out for still another. She reached for one but changed her mind at the last second and picked up the large pitcher of lemonade with both hands.
“You know, I can either pour you a glass of this or dump it on your head.”
He cracked a grin. “I can move fast. You won’t touch me.”
“Not that fast. You’re on a slanted roof. I will hit some of you.”
He sighed and held up his hands in mock defeat.
“I surrender. No more demands for cookies.” He paused and then held up a finger. “Although, may I point out that you made them for me? Withholding them is really just doing yourself a disservice,” he said very seriously.
For a very long second he thought she was going to explode or dump the lemonade on him like she promised, but she looked and then philosophical when she said,
“So, you admit I made them.”
He laughed. “I am unworthy to call them anyone but yours.” He bowed down as far as he could without losing his balance and then looked up at her all smiles. “Am I saved from the wrath of the lemonade?”
She hesitated and then clutched the pitcher closer, her arms wrapped around it. She was quiet and very serious when she spoke next.
“The cookies are not the issue here.”
He frowned, wondering how her mood had shifted so quickly, and why.
“No?” he asked. “Starving me won’t keep lemonade from being dumped on my head?” He tried to make it playful again. “What will?”
“An explanation.”
His smile dropped from his face.
“Of what?”
Melanie swallowed, then turned around, set the pitcher down on the table and came back to the window. She looked at him, her heart out on her sleeve, her eyes drinking him in.
“I want to know what changed,” she said, desperation eating at her.
His face paled and his lips parted but she kept talking.
“I want to know why one day you’re judging me and the next you’re going out of your way to make me feel wanted, needed, like you really want me to enjoy myself while I’m here.” She shut her eyes tightly and clenched her jaw. “Maybe that’s not what you’re intending to do, but you are. And I want to know why.” She opened her eyes. “Do you feel guilty? Is that it? Because the last thing I want to be is something to make you feel better because you feel like an ass.”
“Mel—Melanie, no. That’s not it. Don’t—no.”
Her brows were still narrowed. “Then what?”
He sighed. “Look, you’re right. I did change very quickly. I can’t explain how it happened so fast or why. All I know if that you were right about everything and I didn’t expect you to know, I guess. When you spelled it all out for me, I did feel bad, and I wanted to fix it. Not just so my conscience could be clear.” He held his hand up to stop her when she tried to speak again. “I wanted to stop hurting you, to take back the hurt if I could.”
“You can’t take hurt back,” she barked.
He nodded. “I know. I’m just…I’m so sorry. I was being an ass. All I can say is that when you called me out on it, I started seeing you without the blinders I always keep on with anyone that fits the requirements of the stereotypes in my head. And now…”
“What?” she spat. “You want to be friends?”
More than that.
Shock lanced through him when he couldn’t stop that thought from coming through. He couldn’t believe it. He was arguing for having them on civil terms at the very least, and his mind had gone…there. First.
“Yeah,” he said, then sighed. “I’ll do whatever it takes, Melanie. Just please…give me the chance I didn’t give you.”
She glared at him for a long time, and just when he thought she was going to stalk off, refusing to even answer him, the intensity of her anger lessened and she slumped into the chair by the window. He heard her sigh.
“I don’t want to spend the summer angry at anyone, even you,” she said, sounding exhausted. He nodded along, not saying a word. “And I really have loved our little moments today.” She smiled a little. “Your comfort, your encouragement, the little touches, the playful joking…” She turned to look at him. “Your smile.”
He let himself smile just a little when he looked at her.
“So.” She stood to her feet, then walked to the lemonade, poured some into a glass and handed it to him, along with another cookie. “I am not going to just give in and pretend you didn’t write me off as a typical city girl who doesn’t deserve respect because she still has ‘teen’ in her age…” He cringed, hating the fact even more when she said it again out loud. “But you’re clearly a decent guy deep down, so I won’t hold it against you.” He looked at her with all the hope in his eyes. “You’ll just have to work a little harder if you want me to trust you fully.”
He nodded once. “Understood.”
She let herself smile a little more.
“Thank you for this morning especially,” she said softly. He let himself just stare at her. She looked behind him where the hammer lay on the slanted roof. “Happy hammering,” she chirped, then left the window and her bedroom to whatever she planned to do that day.
A huge weight lifted from his chest. There was a still a fairly large boulder looming over his shoulders – metaphorically speaking – but it was a challenge he was willing to take on.
He spotted her walking past the house where he was working on the roof.
“Friends then?” he called out to her.
She turned around, not looking startled in the least, and smiled up at him.
“Friends.”
Her eyes sparkled and then she headed off into the backyard.
He smiled to himself, downed the lemonade, and continued with his roof work.
……………
After dinner, Jared brought Melanie to the large old shed in the backyard and stopped.
“Have you been in here before?” he asked her.
She shook her head. “No. Have you?”
“Once. Last night.”
She turned to him, eyes widened in surprise.
“Last night,” she repeated.
He nodded once. “Yep. Your uncle brought me.”
“W-Why?” she stammered, completely flabbergasted.
He unlatched the lock on the door and lifted it till the creaky sound stopped when it was reeled to the top.
“To show me this.”
Melanie’s jaw dropped.
“Wow.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And…for what reason?” she asked, hesitantly.
He sighed, and then it came tumbling out. “Don’t take this the wrong way but…”
“What?”
“He wants me to teach you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Teach me what.”
“How to ride and drive.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
He pulled keys out of his pocket, grabbed her hand and put them inside, closing her fingers over them.
“This summer, Melanie Stryder, you are going to get your driver’s license.” Her jaw dropped again. “And for back-up, you will learn how to ride a bike.”
Too shocked to speak, she watched silently as Jared pulled the shed’s door back down, fastened the latch again and walked past her to the house.
Not a hammer pounding on nails.
She opened one eye and then the other. She reached across the bedside table – throwing her headband and earrings to the floor in the process – and pulled her plugged in phone to her. (It might not get service for calls, but it still told the correct time.)
11 AM.
She snapped up in bed. 11 AM?!
Without thinking, Melanie tossed aside her blankets, made a mad dash for the door, opened it and ran down the stairs, as if the hounds of hell were racing behind her. She didn’t slow down until she reached the kitchen, where she immediately stopped to discover an eerily familiar scene before her. The difference this time was Jared was sitting at the table drinking coffee – she assumed – out of a mug instead of slurping water straight from the kitchen sink. Jeb was with him at the table, reading a newspaper. Maggie, as before – forever the consistent one – was cooking something at the stove. It smelled like eggs.
Jared looked up at her when she came in, and smiled. It gave her both butterflies and extreme wariness.
Hadn’t he hurt her? Wasn’t she still mad at him? Why would he smile at her if she was still mad at him? Had something happened last night? Oh god…had something happened last night? Had she said something? Had they…done something? Oh god, oh god, oh god. She couldn’t remember anything.
Jared continued to smile at her over the rim of his coffee cup.
“Good morning, Melanie,” Jeb said, snapping her out of her horrifying thoughts. She shifted her gaze to his and forced herself to at least appear relaxed.
“Good morning, Uncle Jeb,” she said as pleasantly as she could muster. Reluctantly she sat next to Jared, since the chairs had been moved around and it was more or less the easiest option to get to.
“More like afternoon,” Maggie muttered at the stove. Jeb ignored her.
“Is there something you’d like to tell us?” Jeb asked Melanie, immersing himself back in his newspaper but keeping his ears wide open.
Melanie went pale. Her eyes widened. Suddenly it was hard to breathe. Her mind was a blank slate. She couldn’t remember any words whatsoever, let alone form coherent sentences.
Did he know something she didn’t? Was it bad?
Breaking through her panic was the feel of another hand over hers under the table. It made her jump a little because her emotions were going haywire. Her eyes snapped to Jared’s since distance-wise he was the only one that was likely touching her. His eyes were already glued to hers and she realized they were the deepest eyes she’d ever seen. She could get lost in eyes that deep, and stay lost for entirely inappropriate amount of time.
He shook his head once and she blinked, comprehending his meaning a beat later. Nothing had happened. Visibly she relaxed and then redirected her focus on Jeb.
“Not that I know of,” she said, sounding half-innocent and also genuinely perplexed.
“Then what was with the stampede coming down the stairs a few minutes ago?” Maggie demanded as she plopped the pans of food and their hot pads onto the table from the stove.
Melanie all but gave a huge sigh of relief. She was more relaxed now that she’d been since before she woke up from her unexpectedly long, pleasant sleep. Jared was smiling again. This time it gave her all sorts of warm and fuzzy feelings, not wary ones. His fingers slid between hers beneath the table, and she felt shivers erupt all over her body. Everything was going to be okay. She only hoped she wasn’t blushing.
“I…” She started to smile and realized she couldn’t stop. She even gave a quiet laugh to which Jared’s smile did switch to one of amusement. “I just couldn’t believe I’d slept this long.”
Maggie snorted as she began to pile eggs onto everybody’s plates.
“Neither could I,” she muttered. “You have Jared to thank for that by the way. Boy refused to start work until you’d woken up.” She shook her head in disappointment, oblivious to Melanie’s sudden turning to Jared stricken with shock.
“Did he?” she asked, sounding nearly breathless.
“Yep,” she continued bitterly. “I couldn’t believe it myself. He always likes to get an early start. One of the things I like about him. Would’ve been even easier this time since he spent the whole night on the couch given how late the two of you got back.” She lifted her eyes briefly to glare at her niece, then sighed testily when she realized she no longer had her attention.
Melanie could not stop staring at Jared. For his part, he looked like he was about to jump out of his seat. For reasons she could not begin to comprehend, she felt like he wanted to kiss her.
“Jared,” Jeb said, breaking the trance. Immediately the two released each other’s hands and Jared turned to address the elder Stryder.
“Yeah?” he asked.
“You plan on working on the roof when you’re finished here?”
Jared nodded. “That’s the plan.”
“And…” he hesitated, aware of the other individuals in the room. “…about that other project we discussed?”
Maggie frowned, freezing her fork full of eggs halfway to her mouth.
“What other project?” she asked, confused.
“I’m going to stay late for that tonight,” Jared said, maintaining Jeb’s eye contact.
“You didn’t talk to me about any other job,” Maggie scolded her brother, but he ignored her.
“Is that what you plan to do every day?” Jeb asked.
Jared hesitated. “Maybe…I’m not sure. I’ll have to see how today goes.”
Jeb nodded, satisfied for the time being. “Alright.”
“Jebediah Stryder,” Maggie said roughly. She set down her fork with a loud clang.
As calmly as can be, Jeb turned to face her.
“Yes, Magnolia?” he inquired, as if it was the first time he’d heard her.
Maggie’s jaw dropped and Melanie couldn’t help but smile, amazed as ever when her aunt actually stood up and stalked out of the kitchen. Now her jaw dropped.
“Melanie, would you mind—”
“Doing the dishes?” she finished, humor in her voice and laughter in her eyes as she turned back from watching her aunt make her dramatic exit. “I would love to,” she burst into a quiet laughter as her expression mirrored itself onto both Jared and Jeb’s faces at the table.
“And I will help,” Jared volunteered cheerfully.
Jeb nodded, still smiling a little as he left the table to leave them to their post-breakfast chore. He set his dishes in the sink on his way out.
“Thank-you, Jared,” Melanie said softly, her laughter finally simmering down. When he met her gaze with his own she nearly lost herself in his eyes again.
“My pleasure, Melanie,” he said just as softly.
Her shivers erupted again.
…………
“I come bearing treats!” Melanie’s voice came singing out from her bedroom window.
Jared stopped hammering in mid-air, wondering if he’d heard wrong. He turned to look in the direction the sound had come and found Melanie hanging halfway out her window, one hand gripping the windowsill for balance and the other holding out a tray of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. He smiled wide.
“I have lemonade too,” she sang, and he laughed. He crossed the expanse of roof between them till they were face to face.
“Better late than never,” he said, still smiling. He reached for a cookie and took a bite out of it, moaning appreciatively. “Did you make these?” he asked with his mouth full. Instead of rolling her eyes or looking annoyed at his bad manners, Melanie kept smiling.
“I did, indeed,” she assured him.
“You could tell me if you didn’t, you know,” he said, winking at her. “I’d be happy to pass on my thanks to your aunt later.”
She smacked him lightly before he could take another bite and he laughed. She set the tray of cookies back inside her room and folded her arms across her chest.
“Hey!” he complained. “I only had one!”
“For your information,” she said succinctly. “I made all these cookies. From scratch even. Apparently my lovely relatives don’t believe in baking mixes any more than they believe in air conditioning.”
“Well,” he contemplated, chewing the last bit of his sole cookie, “Assuming you did make these yourself, and from scratch at that, you did an excellent job.”
She beamed. “Thank-you.”
“Does that get me another cookie?” he asked hopefully, smiling shamelessly.
She scoffed and rolled her eyes but grabbed a larger cookie from the tray and handed it to him. He pouted a bit, so she rolled her eyes again and handed him another. She glared at him when he held his hand out for still another. She reached for one but changed her mind at the last second and picked up the large pitcher of lemonade with both hands.
“You know, I can either pour you a glass of this or dump it on your head.”
He cracked a grin. “I can move fast. You won’t touch me.”
“Not that fast. You’re on a slanted roof. I will hit some of you.”
He sighed and held up his hands in mock defeat.
“I surrender. No more demands for cookies.” He paused and then held up a finger. “Although, may I point out that you made them for me? Withholding them is really just doing yourself a disservice,” he said very seriously.
For a very long second he thought she was going to explode or dump the lemonade on him like she promised, but she looked and then philosophical when she said,
“So, you admit I made them.”
He laughed. “I am unworthy to call them anyone but yours.” He bowed down as far as he could without losing his balance and then looked up at her all smiles. “Am I saved from the wrath of the lemonade?”
She hesitated and then clutched the pitcher closer, her arms wrapped around it. She was quiet and very serious when she spoke next.
“The cookies are not the issue here.”
He frowned, wondering how her mood had shifted so quickly, and why.
“No?” he asked. “Starving me won’t keep lemonade from being dumped on my head?” He tried to make it playful again. “What will?”
“An explanation.”
His smile dropped from his face.
“Of what?”
Melanie swallowed, then turned around, set the pitcher down on the table and came back to the window. She looked at him, her heart out on her sleeve, her eyes drinking him in.
“I want to know what changed,” she said, desperation eating at her.
His face paled and his lips parted but she kept talking.
“I want to know why one day you’re judging me and the next you’re going out of your way to make me feel wanted, needed, like you really want me to enjoy myself while I’m here.” She shut her eyes tightly and clenched her jaw. “Maybe that’s not what you’re intending to do, but you are. And I want to know why.” She opened her eyes. “Do you feel guilty? Is that it? Because the last thing I want to be is something to make you feel better because you feel like an ass.”
“Mel—Melanie, no. That’s not it. Don’t—no.”
Her brows were still narrowed. “Then what?”
He sighed. “Look, you’re right. I did change very quickly. I can’t explain how it happened so fast or why. All I know if that you were right about everything and I didn’t expect you to know, I guess. When you spelled it all out for me, I did feel bad, and I wanted to fix it. Not just so my conscience could be clear.” He held his hand up to stop her when she tried to speak again. “I wanted to stop hurting you, to take back the hurt if I could.”
“You can’t take hurt back,” she barked.
He nodded. “I know. I’m just…I’m so sorry. I was being an ass. All I can say is that when you called me out on it, I started seeing you without the blinders I always keep on with anyone that fits the requirements of the stereotypes in my head. And now…”
“What?” she spat. “You want to be friends?”
More than that.
Shock lanced through him when he couldn’t stop that thought from coming through. He couldn’t believe it. He was arguing for having them on civil terms at the very least, and his mind had gone…there. First.
“Yeah,” he said, then sighed. “I’ll do whatever it takes, Melanie. Just please…give me the chance I didn’t give you.”
She glared at him for a long time, and just when he thought she was going to stalk off, refusing to even answer him, the intensity of her anger lessened and she slumped into the chair by the window. He heard her sigh.
“I don’t want to spend the summer angry at anyone, even you,” she said, sounding exhausted. He nodded along, not saying a word. “And I really have loved our little moments today.” She smiled a little. “Your comfort, your encouragement, the little touches, the playful joking…” She turned to look at him. “Your smile.”
He let himself smile just a little when he looked at her.
“So.” She stood to her feet, then walked to the lemonade, poured some into a glass and handed it to him, along with another cookie. “I am not going to just give in and pretend you didn’t write me off as a typical city girl who doesn’t deserve respect because she still has ‘teen’ in her age…” He cringed, hating the fact even more when she said it again out loud. “But you’re clearly a decent guy deep down, so I won’t hold it against you.” He looked at her with all the hope in his eyes. “You’ll just have to work a little harder if you want me to trust you fully.”
He nodded once. “Understood.”
She let herself smile a little more.
“Thank you for this morning especially,” she said softly. He let himself just stare at her. She looked behind him where the hammer lay on the slanted roof. “Happy hammering,” she chirped, then left the window and her bedroom to whatever she planned to do that day.
A huge weight lifted from his chest. There was a still a fairly large boulder looming over his shoulders – metaphorically speaking – but it was a challenge he was willing to take on.
He spotted her walking past the house where he was working on the roof.
“Friends then?” he called out to her.
She turned around, not looking startled in the least, and smiled up at him.
“Friends.”
Her eyes sparkled and then she headed off into the backyard.
He smiled to himself, downed the lemonade, and continued with his roof work.
……………
After dinner, Jared brought Melanie to the large old shed in the backyard and stopped.
“Have you been in here before?” he asked her.
She shook her head. “No. Have you?”
“Once. Last night.”
She turned to him, eyes widened in surprise.
“Last night,” she repeated.
He nodded once. “Yep. Your uncle brought me.”
“W-Why?” she stammered, completely flabbergasted.
He unlatched the lock on the door and lifted it till the creaky sound stopped when it was reeled to the top.
“To show me this.”
Melanie’s jaw dropped.
“Wow.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And…for what reason?” she asked, hesitantly.
He sighed, and then it came tumbling out. “Don’t take this the wrong way but…”
“What?”
“He wants me to teach you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Teach me what.”
“How to ride and drive.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
He pulled keys out of his pocket, grabbed her hand and put them inside, closing her fingers over them.
“This summer, Melanie Stryder, you are going to get your driver’s license.” Her jaw dropped again. “And for back-up, you will learn how to ride a bike.”
Too shocked to speak, she watched silently as Jared pulled the shed’s door back down, fastened the latch again and walked past her to the house.
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