Prodigal Daughter. Patricia Davids
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plopped into one of the padded Windsor chairs that surrounded Amy’s table. “No, don’t change your plans for me.”
“I don’t want all your hard work to go to waste. Bryan and I can change our date to Saturday.”
“Really?”
“Sure.”
“No, don’t do that.” Dejected, she straightened the silverware beside one plate.
Amy came across the room and sat beside her. “Do you think you made enough to feed two more people?”
Melissa brightened, “I’ll have to throw together a little more salad, but sure.”
“Great. I’ll ask Bryan and Dylan to come over, then we can still catch a movie afterward.”
Mollified, but still unhappy that she hadn’t thought about asking her sister if she had plans, Melissa retreated to the kitchen while her sister went to change. Stacks of tomato-stained pans and bowls met her gaze. When had she made such a mess? Even the stovetop was splattered with burned sauce. She hurried to load the dishwasher and wipe up before her sister noticed the disaster in her normally immaculate kitchen.
Later, with Amy and Bryan heaping praise on her for the meal, Melissa began to feel that she hadn’t completely blown the couple’s evening. Dylan cleaned his plate in short order.
“You’d better hurry, Dad. We don’t want to miss the movie.”
Bryan smiled and rubbed his son’s unruly hair. “Take it easy, tiger. We won’t miss a thing. I’m sorry we have to eat and run, Melissa.”
She waved aside his concerns. “The next time I decide to whip up a feast, I’ll make sure no one has plans.”
Amy sent Bryan on to the car with Dylan, then she turned to Melissa and said, “I know you’ve been worried about how you were going to tell everyone about your pregnancy. I sort of took matters into my own hands.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve called everyone except Dad. I’ll let you tell him in your own time.”
Melissa’s hands clenched into fists at her side. She struggled to hide her sense of betrayal. “Amy, I wish you hadn’t done that.”
“I understand that you wanted to tell the others yourself, but this way you don’t have to face everyone and rehash the story over and over. Now, it’s done and you won’t have to worry about it any longer.”
Her anger at her sister faded quickly. Amy was right. It was a relief knowing that everyone had been told. Melissa gave Amy a wry smile. “My big sister is still trying to find ways to make life easy for me.”
“Just this one last time. Then I’m done, honest.”
Melissa bit her bottom lip, then asked, “What did they say?”
“I’ll spare you the brotherly comments. Once everyone digested the news, they were willing to support you in any way they can.”
“And Mom?”
“Mom said she would call you.”
“That was it?”
“That was it.” Amy started for the door, but turned back, a look of indecision on her face. “Melissa, before you talk to Mom, there is one more thing I think you need to know.”
“What?”
“It’s about Dad. There’s a rumor being spread around that he had an affair and that it resulted in a love child.”
“What? I don’t believe it. Who would say such a thing?”
“I don’t believe it, either. The story came out in the Observer’s gossip column. It hinted that the woman was someone well-known in the community. As you can imagine, all of this has been hard on Mom.”
“I guess so. Poor Mom.”
After her sister left to catch the latest action-adventure flick, Melissa sank onto the sofa. The sudden quiet pressed in, making her feel lonely and tired. Tired but not sleepy. She tried watching TV but nothing on the ninety-three cable channels held her attention. Giving up after flipping through them twice, she shut the set off and silence ruled.
What would she say to her mother when she called? As much as she disliked Amy’s interference, Melissa had to admit she was glad the news was out to the family. It would make the next meeting with her siblings easier, if not the next meeting with her parents.
The harsh ring of the phone suddenly ripped into the quiet and Melissa jumped. Another shrill ring sent her scooting off the sofa to look at Amy’s caller ID—although she suspected who it was before she saw the number displayed. Of course it couldn’t be some telemarketer selling time-shares. No, it was her mom.
Melissa’s fingers trembled slightly as she picked up the receiver. “Hello.”
“Oh, Melissa, it’s so good to hear your voice.”
The love and concern pouring through those few words was all it took to crumple Melissa’s defenses. She sank to the floor and began to weep. “I’m so sorry, Mom,” she managed to get out between sobs.
“Don’t cry, honey. Please, you’re breaking my heart.”
“I don’t know why I do these things. I know they’ll hurt you, but I can’t seem to stop myself. I know you’re worried about Daddy, and I didn’t want to burden you with this, but I didn’t know where else to go.”
“It’s all right. You did the right thing. With God’s help, we’ll deal with this, too.”
“Don’t tell Daddy. Please don’t tell him,” Melissa begged.
“Honey, he’s going to find out sooner or later.”
“I know. I’ll tell him—but just not yet.”
“This is so difficult over the phone. Why don’t you come home, sweetheart?”
“Because I got myself into the mess and I’m going to deal with it without adding to your troubles, Mom. If I come home you’ll try and fix it like you always do. This I have to take care of by myself.”
“I respect that, Melissa, I do, but I think you should reconsider.”
“Tell me about Daddy. How is he, really?”
The pause on the other end of the line let Melissa know her mother wasn’t ready to change the subject. After a deep sigh, Nora said, “I think you would be shocked to see the way this has aged him, but his spirit is still as strong as ever. Sometimes, I think he is in complete denial. It’s been hard on everyone to see him laid low, but you know your father. When someone says he can’t do something, he had to prove them wrong. Honestly, I think his stubborn streak works better than any of the drugs they give him.”
“When you see him, will you tell him that I love him. Tell him that I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment.”
“You aren’t a disappointment, honey.”
“Right, and Elvis isn’t dead. He lives over on Main Street in Hickory Mills.”
“If your father wasn’t expecting me at the hospital, I’d come over to Amy’s now. I can call him and tell him I’ve changed my plans.”
Sorry for her flippant attitude, Melissa said, “No, don’t do that.”
“If you won’t come home, at least meet me somewhere where we can talk.”
“I’m not sure.”
“Please, Melissa.”
“All right. I can do that.”
“Why don’t we meet for lunch tomorrow at Betty’s Bakeshoppe? We can have tea and catch up on things, and cry on each other’s shoulders.