Written in the Stars: A Novel

By Elizabeth Melillo and J.C. Schaffner

Krissy Finch had the perfect life. Before meeting her wonderful and supportive husband, Mike, she’d felt in limbo, just waiting for something to begin. When the two of them clicked, that feeling fell away, replaced by contentment and fulfillment. They had two wonderful children, good friends, and a beautiful home.

Suspicion is an ugly thing, though. It makes Krissy feel that same unsettled anticipation. Something big is about to happen—something that will change both of their lives forever. She just doesn’t know what it will be.

As Krissy wrestles with her doubts about Mike’s fidelity, devastating news arrives—and any argument about straying from the marital bed must be put on hold. Krissy’s best friend, Sarah, has been diagnosed with breast cancer. Unable to imagine her life without Sarah, Krissy immediately volunteers to see her through the medical trials ahead.

As Krissy stays strong for her old friend, her own misgivings about Mike torment her, and her hopes to save her marriage fade. With her trust in her husband shattered, Krissy finds herself in a strange, seductive romance with a younger man.

Should she fight to sustain a lost “perfect” marriage—or succumb to the eddies and currents of fate?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elizabeth Melillo
• Release date: Oct 22, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463816110

Elizabeth Melillo

Elizabeth Melillo was inspired to write Written in the Stars by the people in her life, many of whom have been touched by illness, infidelity, and loss, and she celebrates the ways in which they have overcome these challenges. Elizabeth Melillo, CPA, CFF, CGMA, has been providing accounting services and improving financial performance of businesses on Long Island, New York, for over twenty years. Elizabeth grew up in Northport, New York, where she still resides with her family. J. C. Schaffner is a professional writer who worked with Melillo to help inspire and shape her story. He lives with his family in Long Island City, New York.

Book preview

Written in

the Stars

A novel

By Elizabeth Melillo with J.C. Schaffner

Copyright 2016 Elizabeth Melillo with J.C. Schaffner

Smashwords Edition.

All rights reserved.

This book is available in print at most online retailers.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy.

Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors.

DEDICATION

We would like to dedicate this book to Phyllis Jacobs and Debbie Toy, whose boundless love and encouragement we deeply miss.

To my dear friends who survived breast cancer: Beth Murray, Debbi Hole, and Gladys Singer.

When today fails to offer the justification for hope, tomorrow becomes the only grail worth pursuing.

— Arthur Miller, Death of a Salesman.

SPECIAL THANKS

To my family and all my friends, without whom none of my success would be possible.

Thank you, J.C. Schaffner, for helping me shape this story and bring it to life.

Thank you, Karen Henson, for helping us edit the book in its early form.

Thank you, Melissa Schaffner, for bringing it across the finish line.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

About the Authors

Connect with Elizabeth Melillo

Book Club Discussion Questions

Chapter 1

White Picket Bliss

She lies in her king-size, Veronique canopy bed, reminiscing about her past decisions, of all the hard work and sacrifice of her youth that clearly prepared her for the American dream she so lavishly basks in now. She stares at the night sky and waits for her lover, her husband to return. She anticipates his touch, his lips, his caress. Her willingness to sacrifice now for future greatness has followed her from her youth into these late nights. But it is only a few late nights here and there and a bit of time away with clients. The passion that grows in his absence has built a long, enduring love affair between them with a luxurious, rich, and fulfilling life, transcended only by the knowledge that all he does, he does to strengthen the family. They have been very clear in this vision. They intend to have it all and Krissy has been picturing what it is since before she even knew Mike. He fit perfectly into her dream life, and she plays the finest supporting role in his. Lonely nights will come and go, but the Finch legacy will carry on.

Things all fell into place when she met him. Before Mike, Krissy seemed to be in endless preparation for her future. She spent hours and hours of study—years of her life if you were to add it all up—first preparing for high school then college. Of course, they were all wise choices even though she began her planning in fifth grade. Krissy is what some call an old soul and has always prided herself on her smart decision-making. It hasn’t made her the most fun to invite to your party, but her stunning looks make up for that so she was always invited.

She comes from a loving household, with humble and loving parents who taught her she can have and do anything she wants in life. She believed them and always dreamed much larger than her environment. They didn’t mind. They were always proud of her and supportive at helping her in the direction of her dreams. Her mother sometimes voiced concerns about Krissy’s talent of looking right through today for the sake of tomorrow. She would remind her that we just never know for sure what is to be, but Krissy has built quite a remarkable life upon her clear intentions. So it is not a discussion they tend to have anymore.

Krissy really has it all. She is married to the love of her life who is a successful provider for her and their two wonderful girls, Emily, who is ten years old, and Danielle, who is eight.

She takes great care of herself. She is fit but not athletic because she doesn’t feel it is wise to exhaust the body. She does have a passion for good foods which keep her body strong and mind healthy, even if it has, on occasion, led to the baking of a cake or two and the opening of a successful bakery. She could argue with authority that the joys of the heart are just as important to a healthy body as your daily serving of vegetables. She can argue this thanks to the many awards she collected on debate teams over the years. And, as a matter of fact, that is where she met Mike.

Being on the team gave her great confidence and a leading edge over the rest of the bright-eyed and hopeful students. She liked being in front of the competition. It was all part of her master plan.

It was her senior year of college when they met. Finally, she had begun to see her future unfold and to live a little. He was everything she had imagined—all that she had been waiting for. He kept her close when they were together, tucked into his arm. His beautiful hazel eyes looked down into hers and penetrated every part of her petite, feminine frame. He was a first-year law student and dashingly handsome, ambitious, and confident. He swept her off her feet.

The topic of their debate was simple. The principle of majority rule ought to be valued above the principle of minority rights.

She was to debate in favor of the majority. At first, she saw him as competition and was prepared to destroy him. She came in heavy-handed, loaded with fact and reason in her favor. She whittled away at his logic, believing she was proving his argument foolish and unjust. She took it very seriously. And he was showing signs of weakness with his lack of concern and childlike smirk. Oh, he should be concerned, she thought to herself, looking deeply into eyes that seemed, at that moment, to be evergreen. It was when he looked deeply back into hers that the room grew dark and the sounds within muffled. His voice, the slow brush of his hair, his beautiful, white, gleaming smile—they all captured every bit of her attention.

Miss Thompson, broke through the muffled sound of cotton in her ears.

Huh, what? she asked, alarmed.

You have fifteen seconds to reply.

It all seemed quite funny at that point.

Um, right, she said with a tiny inward smirk and one minuscule jolt of laughter.

She looked around to the hundreds of other people in the vast auditorium, all of who had eyes on her. She had never choked so badly. She should have been embarrassed. She never let loose enough to make a fool of herself before. She just didn’t. It wasn’t so bad, not while she was focused on Mike.

Time is up. Miss Thompson, your turn is forfeited. The debate is awarded to Mr. Finch.

She wanted to be mad but the world was rushing by her. The grumbling of the audience faded into the background. The slew of students who couldn’t believe the upset rushed both parties. Her teammates looked very disappointed, huddled in a group off to the side. All she could do was shrug her shoulders and repeat to the crowd, It happens sometimes.

The last debate of her senior year resulted in her first loss and her first love. She still gets chills when she thinks of it. The vision of her future unmasked wildly before her. Now she has everything she’d ever wanted. 

****

Still, she stares out the window of her upstate New York dream. The evening breeze carries the smell of night jasmine into her bedroom. It is a passionate scent that crawls up her trellis and tingles throughout her body. She can almost feel him beside her and the romance he would bring. She dreams of their days in college. The world washed away when they made love, and finally, she understood the joys of living in a moment. He made her feel so beautiful and wanted. They managed with what little they had, but it was plenty to build upon.

The clock reads 1:00 a.m., and the whole room fills with the sensual fragrance of the flower. She thinks back to when he planted the Lady of the Night beneath their bedroom window after he made partner, just before the long work nights became days away from home.

She comes at night to comfort you when I am away, he told her.

Her hand pours down her silk nightgown and runs across her silky skin.

Think of me when she does, he said.

She didn’t mind the smell of fertilizer on him when he said it. They were beautiful words. The kind of words that have stayed with her all this time, especially on summer nights like these.

He had pulled her from their bed and led her to the shower, pressing her soft lips to his rough, night shadow. She thought it was manly that he skipped shaving to work in the dirt and plant his gift to her. He tore at her clothes, leaving soft earth on her garments. He pressed his lips to hers, and mud trickled from his hands to her chin. Their soft skin pressed against each other. He fumbled to set the water to just the right temperature, but it was so hot when she entered that she gasped and took the burn. Her skin heated red, and the room filled with steam. She held her breath and let the water wash over her.

My beautiful wife, he said to her with deep desire. With her back against the porcelain shower wall, he placed his hands on either side of her, letting the water pour between them, soaking their kisses. He washed the last of the earth from himself, leaving filthy handprints down the tile. She reached from behind him through his arms, having felt the heat and wanting more, to lather his chest. She grasped tighter and drew her hands lower to find him growing. He whipped her around, her breasts pressed against his chest, and he slid his now clean hands to her sides and around her round, soft ass. Her mind raced out of control. He slowly drew his fingers past her cheeks and brushed so lightly across her moist lips. Raising her leg around him, he drew her from the shower and let the steam continue to fill the room. The two slammed into the countertop. Who cares if it breaks, she thought, feeling that it just might. Pressing herself against the mirror, she reached for something to grab hold of but everything on the sink crashed to the floor. Slowly, he began to lower his kisses. She quickly found balance by setting the tips of her toes majestically on the edge of her pedestal while she teetered on the edge of ecstasy.

He tasted every part of her. Her stomach quivered while he licked her belly button, eventually dropping to his knees, shaking her balance once again. He did not let her fall. He pressed his hands facedown onto the countertop beneath her legs and pushed forward, forcing her knees over his shoulders and gently catching her weight. Her body jolted and scrambled for somewhere to perch her feet, finally placing her strong legs on his shoulders while he tasted her moist lips. Watching him feast sent her out of control. She grabbed his hair and released her orgasm. She intimately remembers this and that he rose again to carry her to bed.

Sweat beads on her skin. Krissy’s insides shiver at the floral scent that has been left in his absence. Her muscles tense. The droplets fall between her thighs and mix with her flow of passion. Her breathing intensifies and releases with her climax. Her mind rings and holds her in her dream until she can no longer stand it, until her breathing returns. She remains until she falls to sleep, remembering what it is like to have him next to her. 

****

Krissy wakes with the sheets sprinkled on her like morning dew and gazes at the empty space next to her, remembering that she hadn’t locked the door to her room. A panic rushes through her at the thought of the girls entering her room while she’s sprawled nude across her bed. She hadn’t even set her clock. Thank god she awoke before them. Imagine the endless questions her youngest might pose. How come you’re naked, Mommy? What happened to your blanket? Where’s Daddy? The latter being the one she really hates.. With a roll of her eyes and a smile of relief, Krissy begins another day to parent with dignity.

With the bedsheet wrapped around her like an island dress she walks to the window and checks the secondary alarm position, the one that allows her to keep it opened at night. Mike had it installed after her complainant about wanting fresh air while she slept. She heads to the keypad to disarm it, and then back, to open the window the rest of the way and look out on to her well-manicured street and down the tree-line canopy. Mel should be moving around by now but Krissy waits until the kids get up to call her to see if she can take them to the game while Krissy checks in on the bakery.

The bakery started as a fun pet project, but has grown to be an opportunity to experience some form of personal success for herself. It does well enough but isn’t much of an income earner, not compared to what she had originally planned for herself and her future family. But she has Mike for that. Lately the bakery has become somewhat of a challenge, trying to balance it with the kids’ schedule now that Mike works away from home so often. Mel has been an amazing friend for that and it doesn’t hurt that their kids are best friends either.

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to squeeze one last moment out of the fading night scent below her window, but it has left her for waking hours.

Downstairs, Krissy clangs around the kitchen. A little noise and the smell of food helps to get everyone moving in the mornings.

She chops up some strawberries for her youngest and places them in a bowl on the island countertop. Tricks of the trade that she has learned over the years, especially when Krissy is already preparing food. On cue, Danielle staggers in and props herself on a barstool. Her eyes are crusted and nose runny from the spring morning air. She begins picking at the fruit. Red juice drips from her arms.

Oh, honey, let’s wipe your face. She wets a paper towel, but Danny takes it from her.

I can do it myself, she says, rubbing her eyes and carefully picking at the hard, sticky parts in the corners. She complains with a grumpy voice that it stings and gives her mother a disappointed look, like it is something she has caused.

Blow, she says. Droplets of slime escape to her chin, but Krissy quickly combats that with the skilled sweep of her own wet towel.

Mommy!

There. All clean. Let me here you breathe, she says.

Danny sits up tall and raises her feet onto the stool. Resting on her knees, she pulls her mother’s head close to her and takes a mostly clear breath.

Good? she asks.

Yes, that is good, sweetheart. Now come here and wash your hands while I finish making breakfast. She runs the water and they wash together.

What’s for breakfast, Mommy? she asks as she returns to the bowl of strawberries.

Saturday morning special, Krissy answers.

She really had planned to be further along by the time Danielle asked this. Krissy checks the time.

Oh boy, we better get to it. Can you go and nicely see if your sister is awake, please?

She places the turkey bacon into the skillet. It starts to splatter and the smell of breakfast wafts throughout the house.

Emily comes in before Danny has a chance to move. She is wearing her soccer outfit with her ballerina shoes on. Her hair, however, is proof of how little she has done to get ready this morning, but she will be running around plenty and will need to take a shower later so Krissy lets it be.

Good morning, Em, she says. I see you are dressed for the game.

Yes, Mommy. Do you like my shoes? Em plops on the stool next to her sister and places her feet on the countertop and giggles.

Yes, dear, but get them off the counter, Krissy responds.

The girl frowns a bit and does as she is told. Krissy takes her frowny face between her fingers and kisses it.

Is the bacon organic, Mom? she asks.

Of course it is, she answers. Organic turkey bacon.

But Dad likes the real bacon, Em replies.

As aggravating as this discussion between her and Mike is, she wishes she could be having it with him right now.

This is real bacon, Em. And your dad is not here right now.

But today is the last game of the season!

We are going to record your game and video call with him at the field. He is going to do everything he can to see you today. Even though she hasn’t confirmed this with Mike, she is sure their previous discussion of it is enough to make it happen. Mike adores his girls. As long as he is able to answer his phone, this will be no problem.

She leans over again and kisses Em on the forehead, looking her daughter in the eyes.

Daddy and I love you both tons. You know that. I promise, she tells Em and places the Saturday morning special in front of her. Emily picks at her food.

I know what will cheer you up, Krissy says to Em. How about I call Liddy and ask if you can ride with them to the game?

The thought of it brings a smile to Em’s face. Can I go to her house and ask?

"Let me call first. She slows her words so that she is sure to be understood. Clear the counter. Rinse the dishes. And brush your teeth."

Em offers a benign complaint, but the two seem to get right to it. Krissy heads upstairs to get her phone from her purse and make the call. 

****

She grabs her phone off the nightstand, hoping to find a text concerning the video call. Nothing. She pulls back the curtains to see across the street and watches the adjacent window as she dials. An opaque figure appears through the silk shades and searches around, stopping at what Krissy knows to be a dresser.

Hey, girl! Mel answers. I was just thinking of calling you.

Hey, Mel. How is your morning? Krissy asks.

Mel walks to the bench beneath the window, sits, and pulls back the drapes. She waves as she opens the window.

Oh, you know. The kids are already tearing up the house and Trevor won’t stop bothering his sister, but what’s new, eh? You guys going to the game in Mike’s car?

No, Krissy answers.

Mel interrupts. Oh good. Then, where is he? Did he go to the store for something?

He was called out of town yesterday while he was at the office. A client in Connecticut needed him to hold his hand for a contract signing. He’ll be back on Monday.

Oh no. He’s gonna miss the last game? I’m sorry hon. What can I do?

We’re gonna video it for him, she says, becoming increasingly concerned that she has not heard from him yet. Em is a little bummed, but I told her she can ride with you guys—that got her mind off of it. I hope that’s okay?

Yeah, sure, Mel says. Send her over. What about Danny? Is she going with you to the bakery?

Yeah, I was planning on taking her.

"How are you, though? This is the third time this month he was called out of town. The partners are really loading him up. How are you holding up?"

Me? Krissy does her best to brush off the question. I’m fine. He’s on the fast track to making senior partner. The only thing I’m concerned about is keeping him from moving us to Pierson Lake. I would hate to be far from you.

Oh hell, hon, Mel answers. You take all the fancy homes you can. You’ve earned it. Besides, how am I gonna convince Jeff to move us there if you don’t go first?

Krissy laughs. I better get in the shower.

Oh, just send ’em both over. We’ll meet you at the field. I’m sure you can use a break. But I can’t promise they won’t be acting crazy when you get them back. My kids are nuts right now.

Aw, thanks, Mel. Muah. Krissy sends a side kiss to her friend through the phone.

We’ll be leaving in forty minutes, so take your time and enjoy that amazing shower head of yours, Mel teases.

Krissy laughs again but more from the embarrassing truth than the humor. You’re awful. I’ll send them right over. Thanks, Mel. You really are the best.

I know. Mel pulls the phone from her face. Trevor, you leave your sister alone right now…

Krissy laughs again as they hang up. She looks at the screen on the phone.

—Missed call from Mike—

Shoot, how did she miss that? Oh well, she is relieved that he called. 

****

With the phone in hand, Krissy watches the two girls as they walk across the street. Under her mother’s watch, Liddy rushes to meet them at the curb. The two ladies exchange a wave and Krissy closes the door.

All right, let’s call Daddy, she says to herself then dials and takes a seat on the couch in the living room.

Hey, babe, Mike answers. Her heart flutters at the sound of his voice. After all these years, he can still take her breath away with a simple hello.

Hi, she says with a smile and curls one leg under her thigh.

How was your morning? How are the girls? he asks.

It’s good. I just sent them to Melissa’s. They are gonna take ’em to the game while I check on the bakery.

Oh, man. Right, he says.

You didn’t forget, did you? Remember what we talked about? You video calling Em at the field?

Yes. I remember…now, he offers. But it’s gonna be impossible. I’m just about to head into the meeting.

We still have two hours. How long is the meeting? You should be out by then, right?

No, the schedule has me booked through lunch. I’m really sorry, Kris.

She is going to be heartbroken. I promised her. Well, let me go get her and you can talk to her now.

I’m walking into the boardroom right now. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to her, I promise. Record it for me and tell her I love her, okay.

Yes. Okay, I will. I love you, Krissy says.

Me too, Mike says and hangs up, but Krissy keeps the phone to her ear for a moment in complete dread of having to break her promise to Em.

Chapter 2

Frustrated

Grungy, metal sounds of her youth blare from the car radio as she tears down the old, familiar road. She was never much of a rebel, but when things got stressful, this was always her saving grace. The loud music drowns out the sound of her own voice in her head. He really needs to keep up his part here, she thinks. It’s one thing to postpone our lives, but the girls, they only get one time to be young. Out loud, she rambles off everything she wished she would have said to Mike. Until her ramblings become reasoning’s and her reasoning’s become guilt and the music gets turned up louder. No matter what the facts are, she is left here to explain to her oldest that she lied to her. She is going to have to explain that her father loves her rather than Emily feeling it for herself. This is not what she had expected. Krissy kicks up the volume and screams until tears fall. She really doesn’t like it when things don’t go her way.

The fact is that the children may feel disappointed when he is away, but it is Krissy who goes mad. It only takes a day of his absence before everything begins to feel wrong. She is on day two. He is the love of her life, no doubt, and she has been so careful up until now so that it would be easy. And now, it’s just not. Thank god for Mel.

Krissy cranks up the music and rolls the window down before reaching into the glove box to grab the pack of menthol lights that she bought a year ago. It used to be good, on occasion, for stress relief during her college years. She bought the pack during the holidays last year but never got around to opening them. That’s it. If there was ever a time, it’s now. She fumbles with the wrapper, trying to drive and chew at the pack to open it. She digs at the cigarettes, also with her teeth, trying to get one to her lips and not loving how they smell. It’s too late; she is committed and doing this. Finally, she does get one slightly chewed up cigarette out. She presses the car lighter and waits for it to pop. What am I doing, she wonders before she is interrupted by the pop sound.

Here goes nothing, she says with the stick dangling from her lips. She lights up and takes a drag. Instantly, Krissy chokes on the smoke, regretting having inhaled so fully. In between coughs, she replaces the little button lighter in the dash. Okay. She chokes, waiting for the relief that was promised. She decides to just let it hang. Cigarette pressed between her lips, knees to the steering wheel, she peels a hair band from the turn signal handle then pulls her hair back to keep it from blowing in front of her face. Smoke billows into her eyes from the stale cigarette. She tries to blink away the sting until her hand is free to rub some moisture from her eyes. The car shimmies down the road until finally Krissy gets her right hand back to the wheel and moves the disgusting little thing to her left. She exhales and continues to breathe in the secondhand smoke while her tension headache continues to grow leaning back, inch by inch, trying to get away from the stench. Today was not a good day to rekindle this vice.

Krissy clears her throat, trying to extract her bad idea. She reaches for an empty water bottle beneath her seat, removes the cap, and drops the cigarette in, feeling a wave of relief from being rid the smoke. That is when it dawns on her that she is parked in front of her store and quickly straightens herself up. She would die if anyone she knows saw her lose it like this. Realizing how loud the radio is, she quickly shuts it off wondering how long she has been sitting there. Trying to mask the stench of the cigarettes she reaches into her purse find the perfume she keeps.. One spritz and a deep breath. Okay, Kris, you got this.

Krissy reaches for the door handle to exit the car and in her rattled state is startled at the sight of Liam standing in his apron, very close to her car door. Too close, in fact, for her to open it. Apologetic he jumps aside and opens the door for her.

Hey, Kris. I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just saw you sitting out here for a while and came to see if you needed a hand. You smoke?

Krissy laughs nervously. For a while, huh? No, that’s all right. Uh, what? No, I don’t smoke. So…what’s up? How is the morning coming along?

Seeing her eyes red and puffy concerns him.,, Is everything okay?

Oh, this, she says to buy a second while she comes up with an answer. . Some dust blew into the window on the way over. I’m fine.

She swings her legs from the car and stands. Shimming around him, she keeps her eyes to herself and heads toward the bakery entrance.

Your bottle is on fire! Liam shouts, digging the melting plastic from her floorboard. If you put the cap on… Krissy marches back and graciously takes the mess from his hands. Starves the oxygen and the cigarette goes out.

Thank you, she says bold faced, to hide her embarrassment. 

****

She enters and makes her way to the back sink. Hi, Stan, she says to the gentleman drinking his coffee and reading the paper on her way.

Hey, Krissy. You’re here early..

She plops her purse onto the stainless steel countertop, washes her hands, and proceeds to dig around for the tools to fix her face. She stares, lost in the mirror, quietly murmuring, oh boy, until she remembers that there was a question asked of