Hot Fudge Fraud (9 page)

“Are you kidding me?” Melanie blurted out.  With Daisy’s absurdly exorbitant prices and brittle customer service, it was a wonder she had managed to stay in business longer than a week.

“These ingredients don’t come cheap,” Daisy shrugged, standing like a watchdog at the cash register as Melanie opened her purse.

Slyly, Melanie closed the clasp on her handbag and said, “On second thought, I’m not very hungry.  Not that your frozen yogurt crap would fill me up anyway.”

“Excuse me?” Daisy shouted indignantly.

“That’s right.  You see, I know good quality frozen desserts because I used to sell them.  By the
bucket load.  Until some viper lit my ice cream parlor on fire,” Melanie gritted as Daisy’s face paled then flamed.

“Are you Melanie?” She asked disgustedly.

“Oh, you know my name?  But we’ve never met before.”

“Lynne told me about you.  Shouldn’t you be
in Ireland with Keith right now?” She asked with bitter sarcasm.

Refusing to hedge any longer, Melanie announced, “I know it was you who set Hot Fudge Fancy on fire.”

“What makes you think that?” She asked as the fire in her cheeks crept into her eyes, giving the orbs a devilish gleam.

“Because you’ve been stalking Keith.  He and I
were
in Ireland and his phone kept beeping with your psychotic messages.  But he doesn’t want to hear from you anymore.  And you know it.  But you can’t handle it.  That’s why you set my store on fire, isn’t it?” Melanie tried to bait her into a direct confession.

Instead of confessing, Daisy fixated on her obsession.  “How do you know Keith doesn’t want to h
ear from me?” She roared.  “He was away with you, so of course he’s going to say that my messages were a nuisance.  But he got in touch with me as soon as he got back.”

“You’re lying. 
He wouldn’t contact you.  And we just got back today, so I know you didn’t have time to talk to him.  You were too busy destroying my store!  And covering up your dirty tracks!  But the police are onto you.  Everyone’s onto you.  Everyone knows that you’re nothing but a hot fudge fraud!  Thanks to a nasty little tube of lipstick and a surveillance camera,” Melanie spoke with decadent satisfaction, knowing she had cornered the fiendish rattlesnake.

“They found my lipstick?” Daisy gulped
with dread.

“That’s right.  And the lab tests came back with your DNA on them,” Melanie fibbed, knowing it would be weeks before the tests came back with conclusive results.

In a panic, Daisy lunged across the counter and tugged on Melanie’s shirt.  “Get your hands off me!” Melanie screamed.  She hadn’t prepared for a physical confrontation, and she couldn’t afford to let this exchange end without a full and explicit confession from Daisy.

“You’re damn right I set your store on fire, you bitch!” Daisy screamed, clawing at Melanie’s face. 
“And I’m no fraud!  Why do you think this location is such a dump?  Because I’m not the spoiled princess everyone thinks I am.  Mommy and Daddy didn’t put one penny towards this place.  It’s all mine!  And so is Keith!”

Melanie struggled to free herself of the young woman’s surprisingly strong hold. 
Why don’t the police come?  She just confessed.  Hurry up.  Please hurry up before someone gets hurt.

Daisy continued with her rant while
ruthlessly clutching a tuft of Melanie’s hair.  “You think you can have everything?  You think I’m gonna let you have Keith?  He’s not yours!  I’m glad I set your shop on fire.  Poof!  It’s all gone!  Next time it will be
you
lying in the ashes!  And that’s a promise!”

Storming through the door with two police officers behind her, Detective Grayd
on ordered, “Stop!  Get your hands off of her!” Guns drawn, the police officers invaded the store as Daisy broodingly surrendered, placing her hands up and bursting into tears in the same moment.

Gratefully, Melanie gave Detective Graydon a hug as the older woman tried her best to calm her.  “Good work, Melanie.  It’s all over.
  We got the confession we needed as well as a death threat to add to her growing list of criminal charges.”

“Can I go home now?” She requested as the blood drained from her face.  The trauma of the past 24 hours was catching up to her with a vengeance.

“Yes, of course.  Your father is waiting outside.  Ms. Delaney is going to jail now.  You won’t have to deal with her again until trial.”

“Trial?” Melanie asked wearily.

“Yes.  Unless we can get her to cut a deal with the prosecutor and enter a guilty plea.  If she pleads guilty, we’ll be able to avoid going to trial,” Detective Graydon explained, escorting Melanie out of the shop.

With a wave of vertigo, Melanie contemplated the brawl that had threatened to escalate
into a bloody battle.  “I don’t know what she would have done to me if you guys didn’t come in when you did.”

“I know, dear.  Now just go home and get some rest.”
Stacey Graydon shifted into mother mode and patted the younger woman’s hand compassionately.

Mr. Bradley was waiting anxiously in the truck with his eyes glued to the storefront of Daisy’s Frozen Delights. 
As Melanie somberly climbed into the truck, Daisy screamed from down the block where the police officers were hauling her away in handcuffs.  Demonically, she shrieked at Melanie, “You and Keith will never be happy together!  Your relationship is doomed!  All the four leaf clovers in Ireland couldn’t save you!”

Chapter 10

As Melanie tossed her bags onto the bed in her childhood room, Daisy’s malicious words echoed in her mind.  How ironic that she would invoke the four leaf clover, an international symbol of luck---the one thing Melanie had always found lacking in her life.  Trying to dismiss her superstitious thoughts, Melanie unpacked her bags and restocked the dresser that she thought she would never use again.

Her cell phone rang inside her purse, and she reflexively went to answer it.  “Hello,” she said without bothering to see who was calling.

Keith’s emotion wrought voice cracked over the line.  “Melanie, I’m so glad you picked up.  I need to talk to you.  Where are you?”

Even as her heart screamed at her to let Keith back in, a wiser part of her had cooled to him and felt he wasn’t trustworthy.  Silencing her heart, she insisted, “I told you I need time, Keith.  I was serious when I said that.”

“Yes, I know.  And I’ll respect your need for time if you’ll just give me a chance to make it up to you.  I just want to see you and talk.  And be there for you through this crazy nightmare.  Damn it, I feel like it’s all my fault,” Keith faltered in frustration and self contempt.

“It’s not your fault.  I’m not blaming you at all.  I’m just upset because you
didn’t tell me Daisy was your ex-girlfriend.  Now please, I have so much on my mind right now.  Just let me go, and I’ll call you if and when I’m ready to talk.” The words traveled tightly through her lips as she longed to tell him to come over so they could share a cold glass of lemonade and pick up where they left off in Dublin.  But the risk of giving her heart to him was too great.  Already, barely a week into their dating relationship, he had proven himself unworthy of her trust.  Melanie sighed, reminded of the reason she had avoided romantic entanglements for most of her life.

“Please don’t say ‘if’ you’ll call me.  Just say when.  And know that I’ll be waiting for your call,” he
emphasized, not caring that he had effectively flung his pride out the window with his pleas.

“Okay, Keith.  I have to go now,” she answered vaguely.  Before he had a chance to say goodbye, she ended the call and turned off her phone, burying it in the bottom drawer of her dresser.

*****

Sunrise descended over North Charleston like a fire breathing dragon.  Melanie awoke on her
pancake thin mattress, sticky with sweat as the ceiling fan above her bed labored to cool the room.  Grabbing for a bathrobe, she clamored into the bathroom for a cold shower.  Her skin felt immune to the frigid temperatures, just as her heart was numb from everything else.  Dazedly, she switched off the water and slipped into a plum tank top and denim cutoffs.  From the den, she could hear her father’s favorite oldies station pulsating along with the rustling of objects.

“You’re up early.  Don’t you want to sleep in a little now that you’re retired?” Melanie asked, walking into the den where Sunny was contentedly
sprawled out on a loveseat.

“I’m going through some old things,” he called over his shoulder before turning the volume down on the radio.  “Would you like to help me?”

“Sure,” she replied dismally, feeling as though her life had gone from pause to rewind.

Twisting a key into a locked closet, Mr. Bradley opened the door and announced, “I’m finally tackling this closet.”

Astonished, Melanie peered inside the closet that, to her knowledge, hadn’t been opened since her mother’s death.  “Dad, really?  Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes,” he replied firmly.  “I was thinkin’ about what you said yesterday about that lady detective, Stacey.  And you know what?  I do want to ask her out.  But I need to unload some baggage first.”

“You definitely do,” Melanie agreed, sitting cross legged outside the closet and randomly sorting through whatever her hands reached first.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t mind if I ask her out, though?” He asked apprehensively.

“Why would I mind, Dad?  We don’t need to talk about how many years Mom has been gone for us to know that you finding someone is long overdue.”

“Yeah, but
the only reason I met this lady was because your parlor burned down,” Mr. Bradley conveyed uneasily.

Without hesitating, Melanie replied, “Don’t think like that, Dad.  Remember what Mom always said about finding silver linings inside those
Irish rainclouds!  If you and Detective Graydon get together, that would be the best silver lining I could imagine coming from a very gloomy cloud.”

“I like
your way of thinking, honey.  I just might ask Stacey out…but first we’ve got to get through this closet.” He expelled a mighty sigh and sat down next to his daughter to rummage through the mountain of dusty belongings.

“Hey Dad, what’s this?” Melanie asked curiously, holding up a metal lockbox with her name taped on in floral calligraphy.

“I don’t know,” he replied honestly, examining the box.  “After your mother died, I threw so many things in here, I lost track.  Let’s see here.” He took the lockbox from her and turned it upside down.  Glued neatly to the bottom of the box was a key.

“Well, the box has your name on it.  So here honey, you try the key.” He handed the box back to Melanie as she drove the key smoothly into the lock.

Lifting the lid, she gasped at the first item she saw: an envelope with her name written in cursive with blue ink.  She recognized the handwriting immediately as her mother’s.  “Dad, this looks like a letter from Mom!” Below the envelope’s seal were brief instructions that read:

To Be Opened on Melanie’s 18
th
Birthday

Tears instantly welled in Mr. Bradley’s eyes as he realized just how remiss he had been in going through his wife’s belongings.  “Oh darlin’, I’m so sorry!  Your mama wanted you to read whatever’s inside that envelope
8 years ago!  I should have gone through her things more carefully before burying them in this closet.”

But Melanie wasn’t listening.  Tearing the envelope open with trembling hands, she discovered two letters.  One was written in the same familiar handwriting of her mother, and the other bore a penmanship she didn’t recognize.  Seizing her mother’s letter, she read it out loud in a quavering voice.

“Dear Melly, my sweet, sweet lovey, I’m writing this letter to you when all I want to do is go to sleep.  The pain has become too much for me, and I know I won’t be around much longer.  When you read this letter, I will be long gone.  But I need you to know that I will always love you and always be your mother.  Even when you are a grown woman, my heart will still be with you.  Just bear with me while I give you some simple but important advice on your 18
th
birthday.

1.
          
Always be a lady
.  Being a lady means holding yourself up with dignity, taking the high road, and not letting anyone else’s evil taint the beautiful person you are.

2.
         
Never be afraid to love
.  Loving your father was the best decision I ever made.  And even though we have to part now, I’m sure he doesn’t regret loving me either.  Our love created the greatest gift our little worlds have ever seen: you.

3.
         
Take risks
.  As if loving another person wasn’t enough of a risk, I tell you to take even more chances! Follow your wise heart and don’t mold yourself to anyone else’s clay.  And there’s one very special risk I wanted to take in my life.  But since I’m fading away, I’m going to need you to take that risk for me, lovey.

Inside this envelope you will find another letter.  The letter is from my birth mother, Kathleen O’Hara.  As you know, I never met her before, nor did I meet my father.  But she reached out to me with a letter just last week, and I want you to go to Ireland and meet her.  Get to know her.  Build a relationship with her.  And tell her that no matter why she gave me up, I love her.

It’s love that I leave you with, now.  Happy 18
th
birthday, Melly!  You’re a young woman now!  Always & Forever, Mama.”

Melanie collapsed into tears as her father
battled to stifle his own grief.  He knew this moment was for his daughter, not for him.  It was his turn to be strong after moping around for more than half her lifetime and struggling to move just a few steps forward.

Through tears, Melanie silently read the letter from Kathleen O’Hara.  She sat down close to her father so he could read the letter simultaneously.  The message inside was
both clumsy and urgent in its expression.

Dear Maureen,

I am your mother, the one who labored for 16 hours to bring you into this world.  You may not want to hear from me, and I don’t blame you.  But I needed to finally get in touch with you.  There, I said it.  I’m sorry if you’re shocked right now.  But I’m frankly awful at writing letters.  Which is why I hope you’ll come meet me in Ireland…

You’ve never known me, but you’ve lived inside of me all these decades.  Please
visit Ireland or let me come to South Carolina so that I can have the opportunity to explain everything.  I want to tell you where you come from.  I want to look into your eyes and hold you.  Above all, I want you to know that you have a mother thousands of miles away who loves you dearly.  If I never hear from you, I will tell myself that this letter didn’t reach you, and I won’t be hurt.  But if you could find it in your heart to contact me, I’ll be waiting.

Sincerely,

Kathleen O’Hara, your mother

Tucked inside the letter was a smaller piece of paper with Kathleen’s home address in
Cork, Ireland.  Melanie’s mind whirled, thinking how the letter had been written 16 years ago.  Did Kathleen still live in Cork?  Was she even still alive?  She couldn’t endure finally seeking out her grandmother only to discover that she had passed on.  Pressing both letters to her heart, Melanie squeezed her eyes shut and contemplated how to proceed.  An image of herself standing on the terrace of the penthouse suite in Dublin floated into her mind. 

When I looked at Dublin for the last time, I saw an Irish grandmother without a face. 
Maybe that was a premonition that I have to find Kathleen O’Hara.  Whether she’s alive or not, I have to know.  For the honor of my mother’s wishes, I have to go back to Ireland…