Chapter 9 - Door

"Mama, why are we moving?"

Emptying the contents from the last box Melinda set it down on the kitchen floor and turned her attention to Thalia. How was she going to explain the move? She couldn't tell her that Deacon was bleeding her financially and she needed to downsize. She didn't want to tell Thalia that their house, situated in a remote area near the lake, was unsafe. There was no one close by and Melinda couldn't tell her it was dangerous for them to live so far removed from people; it would frighten her. She was able to quickly sell the Lake Street property and buy this house, not all that much smaller but more open and closer to people.


Melinda smiled reassuringly before answering, "We don't need such a big house Thallie. It will be fun to move, you can fix up your room any way you want."

"I liked that beach though."

"Our new house has a beach too."

"Will I have to go to a new school?"

"No, sweet baby, you can still go to your school."

Thalia was silent for several moments as she drew imaginary pictures on the gleaming countertop. Her legs dangled loosely the toes of her canvas Mary Janes causing a muffled thump as they met with the solid wood in front of her. Never taking her eyes from the pattern she traced with her small fingers she almost whispered, "Is Ryan going to be my daddy now?"

Melinda's head turned toward her daughter as she caught her breath. Ryan had been at the old house on Lake Street once or twice. He had been here briefly when she arranged for him to meet with Beth. His visits each of those times had been short and there was never anything between them, especially nothing that Thalia could interpret, that was remotely romantic or intimate. If anything they were both rather stiff with each other. Trying to sound casual Melinda moved closer to her and asked, "Why would you ask that Thalia? Ryan is just a friend."

Shrugging, Thalia slipped off the stool and peeked inside a cardboard box as if the answers to everything may have been hiding in it. "He was nice to me." Thalia straightened and looked up, wide-eyed, at her mother. "This house is upside down."

Melinda could only shake her head and smile as she watched her daughter descend the stairs to the bedrooms below. Once Thalia was out of sight, Melinda returned to the task of unpacking as her thoughts drifted back to her present situation.

"She's right, you know, this place is upside down."

Stifling a scream Melinda whipped around, quickly sliding a kitchen knife from its place in the block, and confronted the voice behind her. "Ryan! You scared the hell out of me! How did you get in here?"

"Easy with that knife sweetheart, you might get hurt." Ryan glanced at the knife as he continued toward her. "I came in off the beach. Your bedroom door was easy to pick. We'll have to fix that."

Calming her nerves she lowered the knife as he strode toward her. Examining his face Melinda could see that he seemed a bit more relaxed, his eyes were still weary but there was a hint of amusement behind them. Amusement and something else she could not quite place.

 "Hmm." Melinda's fingers relaxed on the lowered the knife as Ryan eased onto a stool one long leg remaining on the floor and the other hooked on the stool. "I guess if someone wants to get in, they'll get in. Would a different lock keep you out?"

"Probably not." Their eyes met and Ryan's held her gaze, as if searching, remembering a girl from another time. She wanted to turn away from it, slam the door before he found his way to her weaknesses and picked that lock as well. "Your eyes used to sparkle."

Melinda laughed derisively finally able to break the connection. "I haven't sparkled for a long time Ryan, not since I was a teenager."

Melinda slid the knife back in its slot as he stood and moved behind her. "You deserve some happiness Mel." Ryan brushed her cheek, drew his hand along the lines of her neck and lower until it dropped near her hip. His eyes had warmed, the heat caressing Melinda in a way that almost made her blush. "You deserved so much better than Damian."

"I don't dare hope anymore, not for happiness, not for the right guy. I'm not the girl that gets all that. I'm a whore remember?"

Melinda pulled away from him. The embers of his touch still warmed her face and she shivered until the feeling passed. It had been a very long time since anyone had touched her in a way that evoked need and she did not want to need, not in that way. "You're a fine one to talk about happiness and the right person. We are quite a pair aren't we?"

When she felt her control return Melinda allowed her gaze to lift and once more studied Ryan's face. She had learned to read a man's expression, know his thoughts, but what Mel saw in his confused her even more than his sudden interest in her happiness. The angular planes of his face were softened as his mouth curved into a wry smile. "Maybe we are."

Just as suddenly Ryan's expression hardened; his impassive bodyguard face returned slamming his own doors firmly shut. "Come on, let's get those locks changed."


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NEXT CHAPTER: Sessions Chapter 36

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Chapter 8 - Legacy

Melinda's shoes clicked loudly against the concrete as she moved toward the coffee shop. Charmaine wanted to talk and she wanted to do it away from the St. James which had Mel's imagination spinning. After her encounter with Garrett Winslow she had begun seeing him at the St. James on a regular basis. He had recommended her to some associates and while she would have preferred not doing it at all, the money was good and Melinda needed it badly.

If she didn't think about it too much she could get through it. She was skilled at pleasing a man, Damian had taught her that much, so she managed to detach herself from these liaisons, at least until she looked in the mirror.

But now Charmaine wanted to talk to her and Mel wasn't sure why it needed to be in a cafe on the other side of town. Had she done something wrong? Was she being let go? Melinda couldn't think of a thing she had done that would displease her employer. Except for that first time Melinda never held back money, kept everything the girls said to her in confidence and always kept the customers comfortable in the lounge while they socialized.

If she were honest with herself Mel was certain she was better at hosting than she was at the sex part. Fortunately she had not been asked to perform any sexual favors that would have been out of her comfort zone and she had clearly pleased Garrett who more often than not just wanted to talk. Melinda was very discrete and Garrett, because of his aspirations, was generous as a result.

Charmaine had chosen a table outside the cafe and sat there smoking one of her exotic cigarettes as Melinda sat opposite her. The air was heavy and hot and the aroma from the cigarettes amplified the stifling heat. Looking rather melancholy Charmaine took one last puff before snuffing out her smoke and turning her attention to Melinda.

"I like to watch people," her voice was rough from too many cigarettes. "I've watched you Melinda. I gave you about two weeks before I thought you would bolt but you surprised me. You have a strong will to survive despite your inexperience." Charmaine reached into her oversized bag and lit another cigarette before returning her gaze to Melinda.

Melinda picked absently at a speck on the table. More than once she considered how she ended up in this place and working for Charmaine. But for the first time she was able to breathe easier financially and provide a few more comforts for her and Thalia. Her skin prickled from the heat beating down. Shifting in her chair Mel brushed a strand of damp hair from her face as she glanced at her employer. "To be frank I think I surprised myself. Look Charmaine I need this job so if I have done something, anything wrong..."

Charmaine laughed and Melinda noticed relief wash over her face. "My dear, you have done nothing wrong. I would venture to say that if you had been given the opportunity you could have gone to school and become quite successful. You are a smart woman Melinda, driven and hard working, and I like that. I like you."

Charmaine fumbled for another cigarette, lit it and took a long drag. "I'm dying. I'm not happy about it and hardly giving up the fight but there you have it."

Shocked, not knowing what she could say to that, Melinda inhaled sharply and stared intently at Charmaine while a thousand thoughts raced through her head. None of them seemed remotely appropriate all things considered. "What...are you sure...can't they do something? Oh Charmaine I just...don't know what to say. What can I do for you; how can I help?"

"Honey, I've been putting up a fight for a long time now. I won't say I am giving up but I know when I am on the losing side of a battle. I will not bore you with the details. I want to put my house in order so to speak. I have no family and while you may not understand this right now I have felt as close to you as if you were my daughter. I'm leaving the St. James in your care when I am gone Melinda. I think you could do great things with it. It is my legacy such as it is and I want you to run it when I am gone."

"Charmaine, I don't know if I can do that." Melinda was stunned. It was an inconceivable and unlikely plan, one that she was sure would be impossible for her to pull off. Could she see herself at the helm of a brothel? This was insane.

Charmaine put out her cigarette and folded her arms under her ample bosom. "Of course you can do it. I told you I've watched you. You are a smart girl and you are good with the clients, all of them. I watch you work the lounge and you have quite the fan club. You're like a chameleon Melinda; you are who you need to be. I cannot think of anyone better to carry on my legacy. Hell, you could sell it off for all I will know once I am gone."

Charmaine leaned forward and held Melinda's gaze. "But I would hope you would take it and make it your own, put your own stamp on it and take it higher. I daresay you may even have Garrett's support in that."

"It's...quite a lot to consider...and much more than I deserve."

Charmaine waved her hand dismissively. "Nonsense, I don't want to hear that kind of talk. The place will be yours, I have already seen to it. Humor me and just say you'll do it."

Melinda's mouth curved in a wistful smile. A gentle breeze brushed against her bare skin. Shivering despite the heat Melinda hesitantly answered, "All right Charmaine. I'll give it my best and that is not just humoring you; that is giving you my word."

"Of course you will my dear and with your best I know I have nothing to worry about. Now let's go do some shopping shall we?"

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Chapter 7 - Regret

"What are you doing here?" Ryan grumbled angrily under his breath as he looked around.

"Apparently I am bailing you out. Deacon sent me. Tell me what the hell is going on? Why were you arrested?"

"You don't want to know Melinda. Just get me the hell out of here."


The cop down the hall spoke in a low voice as if he was trying to avoid attention from any passers-by. "Mrs. Stanfield, I just need you to sign these release forms. They called me in because of who he is and I brought him in more for his protection than anything else. A few of the patrons recognized him and the shop owner really didn't want to press charges but he did want to teach him a lesson."

"Thank you Lieutenant Scott, I appreciate your discretion." She glanced at the teen that stood beside her his head hung apologetically.


Melinda watched as Ryan slowly turned his head, recognition washing over his face. That voice, her voice...Ryan's eyes locked with the woman across the room and the exchange between them, the heat, was palpable. It reminded Melinda of a classic movie scene, that slow motion as two star crossed lovers connect and everything else in the room dissolves. She recognized that look, that deep love, along with the pain and longing for something that wasn't meant to be.

"Beth."


It was barely audible but the woman heard it and took a tentative step forward. Shutting her eyes briefly, she drew a shuddering breath, looked at Ryan once more and then grasped the teen's arm with a visibly shaking hand.

"Ryan."

The look of devastation on Ryan's face ripped her heart to shreds. "Ryan, let's get out of here, now." She could see the weight of pain in the slope of his shoulders as he lowered his eyes and moved one boot after the other slowly forward, breathing deliberately without saying a word. Melinda dared not look back but she knew that Beth's eyes were on him as full of sorrow and regret as his were.

When they were finally outside Ryan turned to face her. His face was tight, angry, and his eyes were hard as he shoved down the pain and looked at her. "Don't act like you know me. I don't think Deacon completely trusts me yet; we might be watched."

"You could at least say thank you Ryan. So, what do we do now?" Melinda toyed with her ring, a nervous habit that she never outgrew. She hated the idea that hers or Ryan's movements might be observed and was beginning to regret involving him in this mess.

She wanted to question him about so many things, about Beth, about why he was arrested but she couldn't bring herself to rip open his wounds. The door to the police station swung open and Melinda turned back to look.

"We do nothing. I'm out of here. I'll be in touch. Don't follow me." Ryan turned away from her abruptly, disappearing in the deep shadow of the buildings.

"Wait!" Melinda heard the light female voice call to her or was she calling after him?

She wanted to walk away, get into her SUV, go home and tightly hug her daughter. Instead she waited meeting pale blue eyes that were leveled directly on her. "Do I know you? How do you know Ryan? Is he all right?"

Melinda inhaled, glanced over at the boy who did his best to avoid making eye contact with her and then answered. "No, you don't know me. My name is Melinda, Melinda Owen."

Beth's expression went from momentarily puzzled to recognition as she took an involuntary step back. Shifting her eyes at the boy once more Melinda absently brushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes and added, "You don't want to ask how I know Ryan, not right now."

"What's happened to him?"

Melinda considered the question, not really knowing how to respond. "I don't know, Beth, I just don't know. Look, I have to go. If you...want to talk I think you know how to find me."

"Please, Melinda, take care of him." They exchanged a look of understanding before walking away in opposite directions.

Eric, who had been silent up to now, brushed his mother's hand and tentatively asked, "Mom, did you love him?"

"Yes, Eric I did love him once. But I love your father more. Now let's go home."


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NEXT CHAPTER: Passages 13

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Chapter 6 ~ Past

Parkside Apartments: Six Years Earlier

No matter how many times Melinda did the math, she wasn't going to make ends meet. Thankful for her job at the St. James it still wasn't enough to cover her expenses and have something left over. She knew Charmaine had padded her check a few times after overhearing Melinda on the phone with a creditor. As grateful as she had been for the help, Melinda couldn't keep accepting the charity.


Crumpling the sheet of paper and tossing it on the pile that filled the waste basket she glanced over at Thalia who played happily with some old boxes Melinda had painted with funny faces. It wouldn't be long before the makeshift toys wouldn't do. Christmas was not that far off, only a couple of weeks, and Melinda didn't have a penny to spare.

The shrill ringing of the phone made her jump. Her stomach knotted as she stared at it. If it was another creditor...Melinda swallowed hard, they were just going to have to deal with what she could send, and picked up the phone. "Hello?" her voice sounded almost apologetic as she answered.

"Mellie! Merry Christmas sweet cheeks!" Damian's exuberance was almost too much for her. Damn him and his lack of responsibility. Did he ever have a bad day?

"What do you want Damian?" she hissed at him.

"Janet and I are heading to Aspen for the holidays and I think I left my favorite knit scarf at our old place. I'm assuming you kept it and I want to swing by and get it."

"You assumed..." she thought of that saying about people who assume. Aspen...Melinda's grip on the receiver tightened. If only it was wrapped around his balls...she could squeeze them until her nails broke the skin and he was on the floor writhing in pain, bleeding and begging her to release him. "I don't remember any scarf Damian. Are you sure you even had one or are did you just want to tell me you were going to Aspen and needed an excuse to call?"

Damian laughed that same sexy, deep chuckle that used to light her up when she heard it. Even now, it gave her a thrill. She shuddered, angry that he could still elicit a reaction from her. "Maybe I left that scarf somewhere else. It doesn't matter; Janet can buy me a dozen scarves if I want. Or maybe she can just wrap herself around my neck and keep me warm. You and the kid have plans for the holidays?"

She wanted to make something up, something wonderfully indecent, but instead she just sighed. "Nothing much...just work and then a quiet Christmas at home. Look Damian I have to go to work. Have a nice trip." Melinda didn't wait for a reply. She placed the handset back in the cradle and stared at the pathetic little tree on her kitchen counter. Maybe his plane would crash and she would never ever have to hear that voice of his again.

The St. James

The St. James was typically busy over the holidays. One of the girls hadn't shown up for work and Charmaine was scrambling to juggle schedules and rearrange appointments. Melinda kept people entertained in the lounge pouring drinks and making small talk. Looking up she saw Charmaine standing in the entry looking frazzled but holding it together as she gestured for Melinda to join her.

"Melinda, I am in a bind here. I have shuffled as many clients around as I can but I need help. I hate to ask but you are my last hope." Charmaine's eyes pleaded for understanding but Melinda balked. She couldn't do it, she simply couldn't. "Melinda, please, just one client, one of Lydia's regulars, a good customer. It's just a massage. We can throw something on you from Lyd's outfits and all you have to do is talk dirty to him. There's no sex, I'm not asking you to do that, just a massage. That's what he likes. I will give you 100% of his fee."

"How much is that?" Melinda wasn't even sure why she asked; was she really considering this? The thought made her insides churn. But the money...she could do a massage. She could talk dirty. She could do that much.


Melinda was hit with a warm draft as she entered the room but she still felt chilled to the bone. Her nerves threatening to get the best of her, she tried to remain calm. He sat on the table wrapped in a towel, an older man with a kind face that showed the years. He smiled at her and Melinda returned it tentatively and continued in until she heard the door close with finality. "You can do this, it's just a massage," she kept reminding herself to keep her courage up.

"Well aren't you a pretty one? Charmaine said I'd be pleased and she didn't lie. She's got a helluva stable here."

The man stretched out on the massage table and settled in. Melinda took a deep breath as she reached for a bottle of lotion on the shelf below and slowly began to massage the man. She could feel his shoulders relax under her ministrations and began to feel less uncomfortable. This wasn't so bad, she reasoned; it seemed to be going quite well until she heard his muffled sigh. "Talk to me, tell me what you want to do to me, Sugar." Melinda's stomach lurched. Drawing a shaky breath, she began to tell him what she knew he wanted to hear.

When Melinda was finished, the man eased off the table and stood grinning sheepishly at her. "I'm afraid I've got a hard on." Melinda glanced down quickly and sure enough the towel was tented where she would have expected. She stared at him confused, what did he expect after the things she said to him?

He must have noticed her confusion because he began to explain, "I have been having a bit of trouble down there. My pecker doesn't seem to want to react the way it should to a beautiful woman. I haven't managed to get this erect in years and keep it. Would you...help me out here?"

"I...I'm sorry, that wasn't part of the agreement," Melinda stammered. She backed away slightly as he approached.

"It wasn't, I understand that but...it would be such a waste to let a good erection go unaided by the lady that gave it to me. I'll pay you of course, our little secret that Charmaine doesn't need to know about. I'm not asking for permission to fuck you, just maybe a blow job? It won't take long and I will make it worth your while." He tossed a wad of bills, hundreds, down on the table.

Staring at the cash, Melinda was overcome with guilt. Guilt for not being a better provider, guilt that she would resort to selling herself in order to feed her child, guilt for not being able to turn around and walk away from more money than she had seen in a month.

Kneeling in front of him she loosened the towel and grasped him firmly. "Tell me your name."

He moaned as her warm breath caressed his erection. "It's Garrett, Garrett Winslow."


"Is everything all right, Melinda?" Charmaine was waiting for her after Garrett had left. "He said he wants you from now on, said it was the best massage he had in years and wouldn't take no for an answer. I didn't know what to tell him but I have never seen him leave here with such a spring in his step!"

Melinda could feel the roll of bills in her pocket pressing against her thigh, a reminder of what she had just done. She swallowed the guilt and responded, "I...guess I could manage once in awhile."

Charmaine smiled knowingly. "He was quite taken with you Melinda. Councilman Winslow has been very good to the St. James over the years. He is going to be mayor, you mark my words. If you play your cards right with him, he can be quite generous, a powerful ally."

The weight of everything she had been dealing with came down on her with a vengeance. She felt sick. She needed air. Excusing herself, Melinda rushed to the bathroom and vomited.




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NEXT CHAPTER: Passages 11

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