The Christmas Cookie Wars

Chapter Nine

Nine

They hadn’t even gotten one vote.

“I can’t believe this.” Melody sat across the kitchen table from her mother, nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee that her mom had brought in a travel mug to soften the blow. Thankfully, the boys were both still asleep and oblivious to the fact that they’d been blacklisted from the contest. If only she were still asleep too. If only all three of them could hibernate for a few weeks and sleep this catastrophe off.

As it was, she’d hardly gotten any rest last night, her emotions alternating between anger on behalf of Finn and Tate and disappointment that Jonathan hadn’t stood up for them.

“The whole thing is ridiculous.” Her own mother still had some mama bear growl left in her too. “I mean, how on earth could anyone possibly think those two boys had anything to do with replacing Jonathan’s sugar? The nerve!” She bit into a homemade chocolate donut—with extra sprinkles—that Melody’s dad had sent over. “Jonathan probably made a mistake. He has seemed distracted at school lately, if you ask me. In fact, on Wednesday he was fifteen minutes late to his own staff meeting. That’s never happened. Something’s going on with him.”

“No.” Melody helped herself to another donut. The familiarity helped take the sting out of her heart. Her dad had made these same donuts when Melody had gotten dumped the first time, when she hadn’t made the volleyball team junior year, when her two best friends had gone on a spring break trip without her in college. These donuts had gotten her through many of life’s disappointments.

“Jonathan wouldn’t make a mistake like that.” No matter how distracted he’d been. “I wouldn’t even make a mistake like that and I’m not half the baker he is.” The fact was, he’d poured sugar into that container before leaving his house, and sometime during the contest, someone had dumped it out and replaced it with salt.

And no one, in the entire crowded auditorium, had seen anything?

“I can’t believe someone would stoop so low.” Her mother drummed her fingers against the table. “Finn and Tate would never even think about pulling a stunt like that.”

“That’s true.” They knew how much trouble they’d be in if they did. She squeezed her eyes shut and massaged her temples. “They were so upset last night. They didn’t even wanted to finish watching The Santa Clause .”

Maybe that irked her more than anything. The only reason she’d entered the damn contest in the first place was to rekindle some holiday magic with her boys. Instead, they’d all ended up hurt and disappointed. Now they’d probably never want to bake cookies again. “All Jonathan had to do was stand up for them, and everyone would’ve listened to him.”

But he hadn’t.

Her mother scoffed. “He can’t really believe Finn and Tate would do something like this.” She thunked her mug down on the table. “Don’t you worry, honey. I’ll talk to him. I’ll tell him—”

“No. I should be the one to talk to him.” In fact, she’d go over to his house right now and have a little chat with him before she lost the nerve. That was what she should’ve done last night anyway. She’d thought about texting him but she didn’t trust herself.

Melody stood up and rinsed out her mug.

“You’re going right now?” Her mother followed her to the sink. “Like that ? I mean, maybe you want to throw on some jeans and a nice sweater, put on a little makeup.”

By the time she did that, indignation wouldn’t be flowing out of her like molten lava. “I don’t need makeup to tell Mr. Braxton that he ruined our whole contest experience when he stood by and let everyone publicly accuse us of cheating.” She stepped into her boots. “I don’t need to be wearing a nice sweater to tell him how disappointed the boys are that he didn’t say one word in their defense.” She was on a roll now!

Melody marched to the garage door. “You stay put in case the boys wake up,” she called over her shoulder. “This won’t take long.”

···

When she pulled up in front of Jonathan’s Craftsman-style house seven minutes later, she’d replayed the whole ugly scene in her head ten more times, only amplifying the hurt and the anger. She and Jonathan might not be all that close but they’d had a few intriguing moments, at least in her mind. Clearly she’d misread the connection. That should make this easier.

She stomped up the porch steps, knocking on the heavy wooden door with authority.

It took a minute for footsteps to thump on the other side. The door swung open, and Jonathan appeared, visibly startled to see her. “Melody.” He stared at her for a few silent seconds, his gaze seeming to take all of her in, making her keenly aware of her frumpy sweats stuffed into her snow boots. Meanwhile, Jonathan looked like he could’ve been going to work. No sweater vest, but he had on a crisp gray button-up shirt that accentuated his nice broad shoulders.

Once again, her mother had been right.

“Hey. Come on in.” He stepped aside and some delicious gooey cinnamony smell—quite possibly a homemade cinnamon roll—wafted out to tempt her, but she couldn’t go in his house . Especially with it smelling like that. Next thing she knew, she’d be sitting at his kitchen table stuffing her face with a cinnamon roll instead of defending her children’s honor. “No, thanks.” She purposely did not inhale the aroma too deeply, lest it soften her tone. “I just came to tell you how upset the boys are about this whole situation. They worked incredibly hard on those cookies and they were hurt that you allowed people to believe they had something to do with—”

“Jonathan?” a woman’s voice called behind him.

Melody’s mouth hung open. A woman. Jonathan had a woman at his house on a Sunday morning.

The owner of the voice appeared in the foyer behind him, and she wasn’t only a woman. She was a beautiful woman—model beautiful. Tall and elegant with flowing black curls and flawless skin. She was dressed casually but nicely in jeans and—you guessed it—an elegant sweater. Yep. She looked exactly like someone Jonathan would belong with.

“I’m so sorry.” The woman offered her a warm smile. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” With that voice, Melody would bet she was a good singer too. “The timer went off, and I wasn’t sure if the cinnamon rolls were done.”

“They should be.” Jonathan didn’t glance away from Melody, and she wished she could disappear—beam herself back home. What had she been thinking showing up on his doorstep like this—in her sweats and snow boots with her hair unbrushed and righteous indignation splotching her face?

“I’ll go take them out of the oven.” The woman acknowledged Melody with a nod and then disappeared again.

“I feel awful about what happened at the contest,” Jonathan said earnestly, as if Melody hadn’t just rudely interrupted his romantic cinnamon roll baking date.

It had to be a date, right? She must’ve completely misread the flirting over their text thread yesterday. Oh God. Their text thread! She’d sent him three eggplant emojis when he had a girlfriend!

“I was going to text you last night but I misplaced my phone, right before the competition.” He stepped closer to her.

Before the competition.

“Oh. Good.” She shook her head. “I mean, that stinks.” For him, but definitely not for her. She couldn’t be sure he’d lost it before he’d seen the text she’d sent, though. And now, knowing he had a girlfriend, she had to clear the air. “Um, I’m not sure if you saw the last text I sent with the uh…well…the vegetables .”

The first hints of a smile twinged the corners of his mouth. “I saw it. Didn’t you get my response?”

His response? He’d responded ? “Uh, no.” Now it wasn’t anger that had her all hot. Nope. There were other things happening in her body. Blood rushing, a craving simmering, butterflies flapping. But she couldn’t have butterflies for Jonathan. “I was going to tell you yesterday—that text was totally meant for someone else,” she blurted.

His smile flatlined. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She pretended to be very interested in a hangnail on her thumb because she could not look into his eyes and lie. “I was texting my sister at the same time and my signals got crossed and I accidentally sent it to you. See, we have this favorite Italian place where we go out for eggplant parmigiana all the time, and I had a hankering, so I texted her to tell her she could wear anything she wanted…” Stop. There. Actually, she should’ve stopped before she started. Now she sounded pathetic.

“Oh.” Jonathan’s expression had gone neutral, resembling the one he usually wore during a lecture. “Then I guess it’s a good thing you didn’t see my response. It must not have sent. I don’t get great reception in the gym.”

“I guess that is a good thing.” No, it wasn’t! Now she’d never know what he’d typed back. She would have to wonder until she died! What could he have possibly responded to that? There was no way to find out now. She’d botched this entire conversation. “Um, I should probably be going.” She spun and stumbled down the steps.

“I’m going to make this up to Finn and Tate.” Jonathan had followed her down to the sidewalk. “And to you, Melody. I promise. I know they’re not responsible and I didn’t mean to imply I thought otherwise.”

“Okay. That’s great. Um, thanks,” she said before quickly ducking into her car. She might have peeled out, thanks to the surge of adrenaline he’d fired up in her. Instead of going home, she veered to the west and parked in front of her sister’s two-story house in the newer part of town.

She slipped and slid her way up the walk and rushed in through the front door.

“Bwoof!” Turk met her in the living room, nudging his massive head right into her crotch. “Easy, boy.” She fended him off as best she could and continued to the kitchen, where Kels and Doug and Gen were sitting around the breakfast table.

“Hey, Melly.” Her sister jumped up. “Is everything okay?”

She didn’t even know how to answer that question.

“Auntie Mel!” Genevieve hugged her.

“Hey, hon.” She gave the girl a tight squeeze. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt your breakfast.”

“Your timing is perfect, as always. We’re done.” Doug came over and swept Gen up onto his shoulders. “Let’s go finish our game of Ping-Pong in the basement.” He galloped out of the room with his daughter giggling.

“What happened?” Kels was at her side. “Is it Mom? Finn or Tate?”

“No, no. Nothing like that.” She accepted the mug of tea her sister offered. “I just came from Jonathan’s house.”

Kels gave her attire a good once-over, her face scrunched. “Really?”

At this point, Melody no longer cared what she’d been wearing. She didn’t know what to think about her encounter with Jonathan, and she needed Kels to make some sense out of it. “I went to confront him about not sticking up for the boys, and there was a woman there.”

“A woman.” Her sister slowly sank to the chair across from her.

“A gorgeous woman,” Melody confirmed. “And elegant.”

Kelsey considered the information. “Maybe she’s his sister.”

“They didn’t look alike.” And there’d been a certain awkwardness between them. Maybe they were newly dating. “Why wouldn’t he have introduced me if she was his sister?”

“Did Jonathan make it seem like you interrupted something?” Kels still looked skeptical.

“Not really.” In fact, she hadn’t even realized anyone else was there at first. “He invited me in.”

“And you said no?” Her sister threw up her arms in disbelief. “Well, maybe he would’ve introduced you to the woman if you’d gone in with him.”

“I couldn’t go in. I was mad.” And the cinnamon rolls would’ve distracted her. “It was supposed to be a confrontation, but then the woman appeared and I got all weird.” She rubbed her forehead, trying to erase the memory. “I told him I meant that text I sent for you, and he said it was a good thing I didn’t get his response, then.”

“He actually responded?” Kels leaned halfway over the table. “Are you kidding me? What did it say?”

“I’ll never know now.” But she would wonder every time she saw him. “He said it must not have gone through because he was in the gym.”

“The reception really is terrible in there.” Her sister drummed her fingers on the table. “We have to find out what that text said. There has to be a way.”

“Maybe he was telling me how inappropriate it was to send eggplant emojis.”

“Or maybe… maybe he asked you out on a date or something! You two were totally flirting.” Kels didn’t give her a chance to shoot down that suggestion. “Let’s say he did ask you out. Would you go?”

Ha! “Not if his model girlfriend was going to be there.”

“Let’s say that was his sister. Then would you go on a date with him?” Kels raised her eyebrows.

“I don’t know. Maybe.” She might be able to lie to herself, but she couldn’t lie to her sister. “It’s not going to happen anyway. He’s taken.” Which was just as well. “I probably read into his texts. That’s maybe just how he texts with women.” She didn’t give her sister a chance to shoot down that suggestion. “Besides, I have enough complications in my life right now. Somehow I have to figure out how to convince the entire town we didn’t cheat at the Cookie Contest.”

“Yeah. About that.” Her sister’s grimace set her on edge. “I should probably let you know, as your deputy director and everything, that the cookie committee members want to hold an emergency session this afternoon.”

Melody jolted to her feet. Was she serious? “A meeting without me?”

“No. They’d like you to be there too. But they want me to lead it.”

“They’re going to oust me, aren’t they?” What had she lasted as the director? All of two weeks? “Unbelievable. And I won’t even be able to defend myself or my kids.”

“Don’t worry, Melly.” Kels tugged on her hand and prodded her to sit back down. “Mom and I and Aunt Bernice and Joan all have your back. We won’t let them oust you.”

“Is Jonathan going to be at the meeting?”

Her sister pulled out her phone. “It looks like he responded yes.”

“And I’m a yes too.” She was not about to let them to run her out for something she didn’t even do.