MissBEHAVED

Chapter Seven

Melody

“You’re going to tell the girls about your new boyfriend tonight, right?” Grace asked, her voice filling my kitchen from the speaker my phone was connected to. I’d been listening to music while I got ready for book club tonight when Grace called to harass me, again.

“I don’t think he’s my boyfriend, Grace,” I replied as I chopped vegetables for a stir-fry. I’d decided on an Asian theme since I could buy a ton of prepared appetizers that I just needed to heat in the oven.

“Mellie, dear, you text or talk every day, you’ve been on three dates in the last week, and he’s coming over tonight to meet your friends. I think he’s your boyfriend.”

“I don’t agree, Grace. It’s only been one week. We had one dinner, one lunch, and spent an afternoon snowshoeing at a park.” I set down my knife and ticked each date off on my fingers. “We haven’t even really kissed. I know you want to get me married off as soon as possible, but Dixon and I are still just getting to know one another. And we’re too old to be worrying about labels like ‘boyfriend’. This is not high school.”

I was harsher than I intended, but this was the third time in as many days that we’d had this argument and I was over it.

She harrumphed at me but gave in, grudgingly. “For now, I’ll agree with you. And there’s nothing wrong with labeling him as your boyfriend, I’ll have you know.”

I sighed, knowing that Grace would be thrilled to have a man she could call her boyfriend.

“We’ll see how today goes before giving him any titles. He may take one look at my monstrosity of a house and drive away without even knocking on the door.” I was embarrassed to admit how worried I was about this afternoon. Dixon had wanted to have dinner again, and when I told him about book club, he offered to come help me get ready, promising to leave after he met the girls. I wanted to see him, and I even wanted my friends to meet him despite the fact we’d only been seeing each other for a week. What I didn’t want was him judging me for the oversized house my father insisted on helping me buy.

As if thinking of him summoned him, my phone beeped indicating another call.

“Grace, I have to go. My father’s calling.”

“Okay, I’ll see you and your boyfriend later.” She laughed and hung up before I could argue some more.

I sighed and switched calls.

“Hey, Dad. How are you?”

“Hello, Melody. I’m well, how are you doing?” To anyone listening it would have sounded like my father was only asking to be polite, but he really did care. Beneath his old money, businessman exterior, he loved his family dearly.

“I’m good. The girls are coming over tonight, so I’m cooking.”

Alarm and worry were clearly evident when he replied. “What are you making? Are you sure that’s wise?”

“Yes, Dad. It’s a stir-fry and I’m just chopping vegetables right now. I won’t actually cook it until everyone’s here.” I should have been embarrassed admitting that, but it was the most obvious safety precaution I could take. If there were other people here, there were more eyes to watch the stove and make sure I didn’t get distracted.

He let out a sigh of relief. “That’s good. Maybe you have someone else do the actual cooking? You know the fire department will start charging after three calls in one year.”

“I haven’t even had one call this year, Dad,” I grumbled. “That’s not nice.”

“It’s only January, my dear. I just wanted you to be aware.” He chuckled when I growled at him. “I just hope if you ever decide to get married, whoever you pick can cook. Otherwise, you’ll either starve or be homeless after you burn down your house.”

I briefly thought about mentioning Dixon but decided against opening that can of worms.

“Well, if this house wasn’t so big it wouldn’t have taken so long to find my phone.” It was a lame excuse for the grill fire and we both knew it.

“We both know that’s not what happened, but speaking of all your extra bedrooms, do you mind if your mother and I come with two colleagues and their wives for the weekend in two weeks?”

“As long as Mom handles hostess duties, that’s fine with me. That’s right before Valentine’s Day, so I’ll be busy at the store all weekend.”

“Of course. You know it’s not your job to entertain when we’re there. We’ll take care of all the planning, and you can join us for dinner if you’re able.” The doorbell rang and I glanced at the microwave to check the time. Dixon was here five minutes early. “I’ve got to go, Dad. What time will you be arriving?”

I wiped my hands on a towel and picked up the phone, switching it off the speaker, and put it to my ear. Nerves bubbled up, but I forced them back down. Dixon was here, on my front porch.

“Probably around lunchtime. I’ll email you the details this week. Love you, sweetie.”

I pulled open the front door as I replied, “Love you, too. See you soon. Bye.”

I hit end as Dixon turned from looking out at the view.

“Hi. Did you find it okay?” I asked.

“I did.” He looked at the phone in my hand then up at me, the warmth I’d become accustomed to seeing absent from his face. “Did I interrupt an important phone call?”

“No, that was just my dad calling to tell me he’s bringing friends up to visit in two weeks. Why?” It wasn’t until I replayed my last words that I realized why his face turned pink at my answer. “You thought I was telling some other man I loved them while I’m dating you?”

“Maybe. Yes. I’m sorry, may I come in?” He looked so embarrassed I took pity on him and let him come in from the cold, though I was tempted to let him suffer on the porch for a few more minutes for even thinking I was a cheater.

“Come on in.” I stepped back and let him into the mudroom, which was really a ski storage room, and bigger than most bedrooms.

After he took off his boots and coat, I led the way into the kitchen and retook my spot in front of the cutting board.

“What are you doing?” he asked, sitting on the stool across from me.

“I’m cutting up vegetables for tonight.” I picked up the knife and began slicing a red pepper. “What are you doing, besides jumping to conclusions?”

“I’m sorry, Mellie. That really shouldn’t have been where my mind went, but I have to admit I was having a moment of self-doubt, standing on your deck and looking at what I know is a million-dollar view.”

I set the knife down and looked at him, trying to hide my crushing disappointment. “I was afraid of this happening. It’s okay if you want to break things off. I know it can be difficult dealing with all of this.” I waved my hands around indicating everything that surrounded us.

“Wait. That’s not what I’m saying at all.” He’d gone from repentant to annoyed in a flash. “I’m trying to be honest with you. It is intimidating pulling up to you girlfriend’s house and discovering that it was far bigger than imagined, and I was expecting it to be big. And it’s a little humbling to walk into the kitchen and find commercial grade appliances and marble countertops and a breakfast bar that seats six. But that doesn’t mean I want to end things.”

“I’m your girlfriend?” I asked, dumbly.

“Aren’t you?” he shot back, like he couldn’t believe I was asking that question.

“I think it’s a little fast for that. It’s only been a week.”

“Are you seeing someone else?” He narrowed his eyes, and I worried that steam might start coming out of his ears.

“No.” I rolled my eyes at his ridiculous question. “I’m not a cheater.”

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, young lady. It’s disrespectful.” I gasped at his scolding, but he kept on talking. “Now, it seems like we’ve got some differing perceptions of what’s going on here that we need to clear up. Here’s where I stand. I like you, I’m attracted to you, and I want to date you, exclusively. That, to me, means we’re boyfriend and girlfriend, as childish as that sounds.”

“But we barely know each other,” I protested.

“I want to know everything about you, and you to know everything about me, and we’re going to learn all of those things while we’re dating.” He took a breath. “Do you normally not consider the person you’re dating your boyfriend?”

“Usually, we go on a few dates first and then decide, after a while.”