Megan & Eric's First Argument

This scene is from Murder & Merino: A Knitorious murder mystery book 3.

In this scene, from chapter sixteen, Megan and Eric bump into each other in the parking lot behind Knitorious after Connie engages in some light meddling to get them in the same place at the same time.

After having their first argument the day before, Megan is regretful and knows she owes Eric an apology, but is procrastinating under the guise of choosing the right moment. Eric on the other hand is convinced his job has come between them and Megan is working up the nerve to break up with him.

The original scene, from Megan’s point of view, is posted first, and the re-written scene, from Eric’s point of view, is posted after.

Megan’s point of view:

I walk through the store and the kitchenette to the back door. I reach for the handle to open the door and flinch when the handle turns just as I’m about to grip it. 

“Hi again,” I say, startled.

“Hi again, yourself,” Eric says. 

“That’s twice today you’ve surprised me on the other side of a door.” I say, trying to ease the tension between us.

“I guess it is.” He smiles. 

“I’ll get out of your way,” I say, awkwardly sidestepping around him to get to the parking lot. “Why are you here in the middle of the day?”

He lets the door close without going inside, and now we’re both in the parking lot. 

“Connie asked me to come by and check the doors. She said she was here earlier and thinks she left a door unlocked.” 

“Really?” I raise my eyebrows. “That’s why I’m here. Both doors were locked, by the way. Why would she ask you? She knows you work on Mondays.” 

“She said you were watching Father Daniel and couldn’t leave. She was worried and asked me to check right away.” 

“It’s a trap,” I explain. “She finagled to get us to run into each other.”

“Connie wouldn’t do that… Would she?” he asks. “Why would she want us to run into each other?”

“I didn’t tell her I was with Father Daniel. I hadn’t spoken to her all day until she texted asking me to check the store,” I tell him.

“How did she know you were there?”

“April texted me while I was there. I told her I was watching Father Daniel for a few minutes. She must have told Connie. She also must have told Connie what I said to her about yesterday. Connie’s a worrier and a fixer, and this is her way of getting us to talk.” 

He looks skeptical. His phone dings, and he looks at it. 

“Is it work? Do you have to go?” I ask. 

He shakes his head. “It’s Connie, she wants to know if I checked the store yet.” 

As his thumbs type a response, he lowers his phone and moves next to me so I can read their conversation. 

Connie: Have you checked the doors yet?

Eric: Yes. Everything is locked up tight. 

Connie types a response, and we watch the screen, waiting for it to appear. 

Connie: Did you run into Megan, by chance?

“Told you,” I say, looking up at him. 

In the sunlight, the honey-coloured flecks in his eyes are more distracting than usual. Don’t stare, Megan. 

“What should I say?” 

“Do that thing where you answer the question without actually answering the question,” I urge. “I’m sure it’ll frustrate her as much as it frustrates me.” 

His thumbs type. 

Eric: Was Megan supposed to be at the store?

“How’s that?” he asks. 

“Perfect,” I reply. 

A reply from Connie pops up on his phone. 

Connie: No. Thank you for checking. 

Eric returns his phone to his pocket, and my phone dings.

Connie: Did you check the store?

I tilt the phone so Eric can read it.  

“You were right,” he concedes, laughing. 

Me: Yes. It’s all good. Both doors are locked. 

We wait a few seconds, watching the screen while Connie types. 

Connie: Was Eric home by chance?

Me: Were you expecting him to be home in the middle of a workday? 

“Well done,” Eric says proudly. 

“Thank you,” I reply, “I learned from the best.” 

Connie: Oh, right. Thanks for checking the doors. 

I lock the screen and slip my phone into my jacket pocket when it dings again. I pull it out and look at the screen.  

“Connie again?” Eric asks. 

I shake my head. “No. It’s Vanessa. She’s thanking me for dropping off Father Daniel’s meds.” 

I type a quick response telling her it wasn’t a problem, and I hope she feels better and is back on her feet soon. The typing icon pops up. I wait for her response. 

It doesn’t make sense. 

“What is it?” Eric asks. “You look confused.” 

“I am confused,” I reply. “Did you catch up with Vanessa after I saw you earlier?”

“No, I called her phone, but she didn’t answer. She never answers when I call her phone. Then I called the landline at the Grandin house, and she answered. She said she has a cold and isn’t well enough to talk to me today,” he explains. “I even brought a female officer with me because I can tell she’s uncomfortable around me.” 

“That’s what Justin said too. Vanessa has a cold and stayed home so Father Daniel wouldn’t catch it. But look at this.” I tilt the phone upward so Eric can read the text. 

Vanessa: Thanks! My ankle already feels better, and the swelling is going down. Stupid stairs! Hopefully, I’ll be back at work tomorrow. 

“Huh!” he says. “What are the odds she has a cold and a sprained ankle?”

“I don’t know, but something doesn’t feel right.” 

Eric looks at his watch. I slip my phone in my pocket. 

“Do you have to be somewhere?” I ask.

“Not if you want to talk,” he replies.

“What do you want first, a statement or an apology?”

“Apology?” he asks. “Megan, you have nothing to apologize for.” 

The breeze is at my back, blowing my hair into my face. He brushes a few stray curls behind my ear, and I resist the urge to lean my head into his hand.

“Yes, I do,” I tell him. “I shouldn’t have gotten angry at you for doing your job, and I shouldn’t have driven off and left it like that. I’m sorry.” 

He takes my hand, which makes me feel kind of hectic inside. Then I remember the one-word text reply I sent him and try to explain how that happened, but he’s stroking the top of my hand with his thumb which flusters me, so I ramble off a convoluted, incomplete sentence. “And then when you texted me, I wanted to text you back because I didn’t want to leave you on read, but my thumb slipped, and April’s subwoofer was really loud…” 

“It’s OK, Megan.” Eric interrupts my never-ending sentence; his voice is quiet.

I lean in for a hug, and he wraps his arms around me, enveloping me tightly. I slide my hands inside his suit jacket and up his back, careful to avoid his holster. He’s warm and comfortable and safe. He smells like a forest after it rains. His chest expands when he takes a deep breath, and when he exhales, his entire body relaxes. He feels soft and solid at the same time.  

“I’m sorry my job makes everything more complicated.” He kisses the top of my head. 

“We’re good?” I ask. 

“Yeah, we’re good.” He sounds relieved. “I thought you wanted to talk to tell me you don’t want us to see each other anymore.” 

I pull away and look up at him. “Why would you think that?”

He shrugs. “Because my job complicates everything, and maybe you decided it’s not worth it. It wouldn’t be the first time. There’s a reason the divorce rate among cops is so high.”

Ooof! I forgot his marriage ended because his job caused stress in their relationship. I hate that I triggered his biggest insecurity, even if it was unintentional.

“Hey, you two!”

I turn, and Phillip Wilde, the owner of Wilde Flowers, is climbing into his delivery van. I wonder how long he’s been out here. 

“Hey, Phillip.” Eric waves. 

“Hi, Phillip,” I say.

He waves, climbs into his white van that’s covered in painted flowers and turns the ignition. 

“Why don’t we talk upstairs?” Eric gestures toward the door with his head. “It’s warm up there and there aren’t any neighbours.” 

Eric’s point of view:

“Hi again.” Clutching her chest, she exhales.

The last thing I want is to scare her.  


“Hi again, yourself,” I say, trying to sound as laid back as possible. 


“That’s the second time today you’ve surprised me by opening a door.” Megan says, trying to ease the tension between us.


“I guess it is.” I smile. 

There are so many things I want to say, but I can’t say anything.


“I’ll get out of your way,” She sidesteps around me to the parking lot. Is she avoiding me while she figures out how to break up with me? “Is everything OK?” she asks. “Why are you here on a workday?”


I let the door close. We’re both standing in the parking lot. 


“Connie asked me to come by and check the doors. She said she was here earlier and thought she left a door unlocked.” 


“Really?” Megan raises her eyebrows like she doesn’t believe me. “That’s why I’m here. They were already locked, by the way. Why would she ask you? Connie knows you work on Mondays.” 


I shrug. “She said you were watching Father Daniel and couldn’t leave. She asked me to check right away.” 


“It’s a trap,” she explains, smirking. “Connie finagled to get us to run into each other.”


“Connie wouldn’t do that… Would she?” I ask. Connie is one of the sweetest, most maternal women I’ve ever met. I can’t imagine her poking her nose in our business.  “Why would she want us to run into each other?”


“I didn’t tell her I was with Father Daniel. I hadn’t spoken to her all day until she texted asking me to check the store,” Megan tells me, sounding less shocked than me that Connie might have interfered in our relationship. 


“How did she know you were there?”


“April texted me while I was there. I told her I was watching Father Daniel for a few minutes. She must have told Connie. She also must have told Connie what I said to her about yesterday. Connie’s a worrier and a fixer. This is her way of getting us to talk.” 


I’m skeptical. Connie doesn’t have a devious bone in her body. She wouldn’t meddle. Would she? My phone dings, and I look at it.


“Is it work? Do you have to go?” Megan asks. 
I sense from her tone that she doesn’t want me to go, but maybe it’s wishful thinking. Or maybe she wants me to hang around so she can give me the, it’s not you, it’s me, talk. 

I shake my head. “It’s Connie, she wants to know if I checked the store yet.” 
While I type a response, I lower my phone and move closer to her so Megan can read the text thread.  


Connie: Have you checked the doors yet?


Me: Yes. Everything is locked up tight. 


Connie types a response, and we watch the screen, waiting for it to appear. 


Connie: Did you run into Megan by chance?


“Told you,” she says smugly, looking up at me. 

She’s so freaking cute when she’s smug. Her hazel eyes are beautiful. I could look into them forever. I want to look into them forever. Don’t stare, Sloane, you’ll freak her out. 


“What should I say?” 


“Do that thing where you answer the question without actually answering the question,” she urges. “I’m sure it’ll frustrate her as much as it frustrates me.” 


My thumbs type. 


Me: Was Megan supposed to be at the store?


“How’s that?” I ask.


“Perfect,” she replies, smiling. 


A reply from Connie pops up on my phone. 


Connie: No. Thank you for checking. 


I return my phone to my pocket, and Megan’s phone dings.


Connie: Did you check the store?


She tilts her phone so I can read it.  


“You were right,” I concede, laughing. 


Megan: Yes. It’s all good. Both doors are locked. 


We wait a few seconds, watching the screen while Connie types. 


Connie: Was Eric home by chance?


Megan: Were you expecting him to be home in the middle of a workday? 


“Well done,” I tell her. 


“Thank you,” she replies, “I learned from the best.”

 
Connie: Right. Thanks for checking the doors. 


Megan locks her phone and slips it into her jacket pocket when it dings again. She pulls it out and looks at the screen. 


“Connie again?” I ask. 


She shakes her head. “No. It’s Vanessa. She’s thanking me for dropping off Father Daniel’s meds.” 


Megan types a quick response. “Vanessa is typing,” she explains. “Just one second.”

“No problem.” I assure her. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Huh.” 

It sounds like a concerned, huh. 

“What is it?” I ask. “You look confused.” 


“I am confused,” she replies. “Did you catch up with Vanessa after I saw you earlier?”


“No, I called her phone, but she didn’t answer. She never answers when I call her phone. Then I called the landline at the Grandin house, and she answered. She said she has a cold and isn’t well enough to talk to me today,” he explains. “I even brought a female officer with me to Father Daniel’s house because I can tell Vanessa’s uncomfortable around me.” 


Some people are uncomfortable around cops. I’m used to it. But Vanessa is more than uncomfortable. She’s afraid of me. I don’t know why. So, I’m as approachable as possible and never put her in a position where she feels trapped.

“That’s what Justin said, too. He said Vanessa has a cold and stayed home so Father Daniel wouldn’t catch it. But look at this.” 

She tilts the phone upward so I can read the text. 


Vanessa: Thanks! My ankle already feels better, and the swelling is going down. Stupid stairs! I’ll be back at work tomorrow. 


“Huh!” I remark.  “What are the odds she has a cold, and a sprained ankle?”


“I don’t know, but something doesn’t feel right.” 


Megan slips her phone in her pocket. I look at my watch out of habit. 


“Do you have to be somewhere?” she asks.


“Not if you want to talk,” I reply. 

I’ll stay however long it takes to make things right between us. 

“What do you want first, a statement or an apology?”


“Apology?” I ask, dumbfounded. “Megan, you have nothing to apologize for.” 


The breeze blows her hair into her face. Unable to resist, I tuck a few stray curls behind her ear, and let my hand linger when she leans into my touch.


“Yes, I do,” she insists. “I shouldn’t have gotten angry at you for doing your job, and I shouldn’t have driven off and left it like that. I’m sorry.” I take her hand, which makes me relax a little. I want to tell her I love her, but swallow the words and settle for stroking the top of her hand with my thumb. If she’s about to dump me, I don’t want to make it more awkward for either of us. She seems flustered and starts rambling off a convoluted explanation for a one-word text she sent me last night. “And then when you texted me, I wanted to text you back because I didn’t want to leave you on read, but my thumb slipped, and April’s subwoofer was super loud…” 


“It’s OK, Megan.” I interrupt, my voice calm and reassuring.


She leans in for a hug, and I wrap my arms around her, relieved. Megan slides her hands inside my suit jacket and up my back, the warmth of her touch emanating through my shirt. This feels right. I bend my head and inhale; I love the way she smells. I inhale deeply to take in as much of her warm vanilla scent as possible. My entire body relaxes. We fit together perfectly; we were made to hold each other.  


“I’m sorry my job makes everything more complicated.” I kiss the top of her head. 


“We’re good?” she asks. 

Of course, we’re good. 


“Yeah, we’re good.” I say, relieved. “I thought you wanted to tell me you don’t want us to see each other anymore.” 


She pulls away and looks up at me. “Why would you think that?”


I shrug. “Because my job complicates everything, and maybe you decided it’s not worth it. It wouldn’t be the first time. There’s a reason the divorce rate among cops is so high.”


This is why I swore off relationships after my divorce. It’s too hard to be with a cop. It’s not fair to expose someone else to the stress and burden of what we see every day. But this is different. Megan and I are different. I’ve never felt as connected to anyone as I do to her. I’m sure she feels the same way. 

“Hey, you two!” 


Phillip Wilde, the owner of Wilde Flowers, is climbing into his delivery van. How long has he been lingering nearby?


“Hey, Phillip.” I wave. 


“Hi, Phillip,” Megan calls.


He waves, climbs into his white van that’s covered in painted flowers, and starts the ignition. 


“Why don’t we talk upstairs?” I suggest, nodding toward the door. “It’s warm up there and there aren’t any nosy neighbours.” 

Are you ready for the next Knitorious Murder Mystery? You can find Twisted Stitches: A Knitorious Murder Mystery book 4 here.