Prodigal Daughter Page 4

  “That’s easy for you to say. You aren’t the one who’s going to look like a hippo in three months.”

  Chuckling, he placed a finger under her chin and tilted her face up. “Courage, Melissa.”

  She took a deep breath. “If you insist, I’ll give it a try.”

  After Melissa left his office, Richard sat in the black swivel chair behind his desk. Poor kid, she’d really done it this time. He, like most people, had considered her capricious and careless. To hear in her own words how lost and alone she felt pulled at his heartstrings.

  She needed someone she could talk to. One of her own family members made the most sense, but he suspected the Hamilton family had just about all they could deal with at the moment. An idea began to form in the back of his mind.

  He leaned forward and pressed the intercom. “Margaret, please get my sister on the phone. She should still be at her office at the university.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He leaned back and waited. Melissa needed a place to stay and he had an extra bedroom at his home. If Angela and Dave didn’t have any objections, maybe Melissa could stay with them.

  Before he got too far into his plan, Margaret buzzed him to let him know his sister was on the phone. He picked up line one. “Hi, Angela. I’m sorry to interrupt you at work. Are you busy? This could wait.”

  “I’m swamped, but now is as good a time as any. I was getting ready to call and let you know I’m going to be late again tonight. Do you think the girls will mind pizza?”

  “They’ll survive. Do you know what Dave has planned?”

  “He said this morning that he would be working late at the house. He’s getting the rest of the electrical lines run tonight so the drywallers can start putting up Sheet-rock tomorrow. What did you need?”

  “Do you remember Melissa Hamilton?”

  “Certainly. I had her in my English 101 class last year. She was a bright student, but she never seemed to have much focus. Once she turned in the most amazing paper on women writers from the South, but her next piece was terrible. It was as if she didn’t want to succeed. Why do you ask about her?”

  “She’s in a bit of trouble and she’s looking for a place to live. If you didn’t mind, I thought I’d offer to let her stay with us while you and Dave are there.”

  “It’s your home, of course, but why can’t she stay with her mother? The Hamilton house is bigger than yours.”

  “I’m not at liberty to discuss it, but she has her reasons. I only thought of it because you mentioned hiring someone to help with the kids until your workload lets up. I know that Dave is spending all his free time getting your house repaired. With Melissa living at our place, it might make things easier for you. It’s just an idea.”

  “I did like her, and I certainly don’t mind helping someone out. I’ve received more than my fair share of help from friends and family since the fire. It would feel good to give back a little. You’re right, it might make things easier. I’ll talk it over with Dave and give you an answer in the morning.”

  “Great. Thanks, sis.”

  Richard hung up the phone. His sense of satisfaction was quickly followed by a niggling doubt. Was he helping or hurting Melissa by trying to make things easier for her?

  Melissa let herself into Amy’s apartment. Tossing her handbag on the desk, she kicked off her shoes and dropped onto the sofa. Lassitude crept over her and she longed for a nap. A nap at one o’clock in the afternoon? Did being pregnant make everyone exhausted by the middle of the day? How had her mother managed to do this five times? Once with twins, no less!

  A single glance at her puffy ankles was enough to convince Melissa she needed to put her feet up. It didn’t take much extra effort to pull the coverlet over her shoulders and settle her head on one of Amy’s bright green throw pillows. The next time she opened her eyes, the clock on the wall said two-thirty and she was starving. Again.

  A handful of carrot and celery sticks pilfered from her sister’s refrigerator took the edge off her hunger pangs, but she wanted something more, something substantial. As she surveyed the contents of her sister’s cupboards, fridge and freezer, Melissa settled on a plan of action. Lasagna, garlic toast and a fresh salad would make a wonderful dinner. Never one to do much cooking, Melissa searched for and found a cookbook with full color photos of the finished product.

  Her mother was fond of saying, “If you can read, you can cook.” Usually she had been talking to the boys at Sunday dinner when they started complaining about their bachelor existences and living off takeout. Well, there was no time like the present to test her mother’s theory. Wouldn’t Amy be surprised when she came home?

  Setting to work with a sudden burst of energy, Melissa diced, chopped and simmered away the rest of the afternoon. By five-thirty the apartment was filled with the smells of tomato sauce, oregano, basil and baking bread. She was setting the table when she heard Amy’s key in the door.

  Amy walked in and stopped short. “I must be in the wrong apartment. Something smells wonderful.”

  “Surprise! I thought I would make dinner to say thanks for putting me up—and for putting up with me.”

  “Melissa, I didn’t even know you could cook.”

  “You’d better reserve judgment until after you taste it. The bread is sort of burned on the bottom and the tomato sauce didn’t thicken the way the recipe said it would.”

  “I’m still impressed. Let me change and call Bryan first.”

  Melissa’s pride in her accomplishment plummeted. “You have plans for tonight, don’t you? Of course you do. It’s Friday.”

  “Bryan had asked me out, but he’ll understand.”

  Melissa 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 sis
ter 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. I’ve been where you are, honey. I understand what you’re going through.”

  “Betty’s will be fine.”

  “Good. Tomorrow at two?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “You won’t run off again, will you, Melissa? I’m so worried about you.”

  “No, Mom. I’m back in town to stay.” As Melissa made the promise she wondered if she was brave enough to keep it.

  After talking to her mother, Melissa lay down on the sofa and curled onto her side. A deep sadness settled in her heart. She had caused everyone so much pain. Her hand moved to the swell of her stomach. She poked the bulge softly with one finger. “You do realize that you’re the cause of this. Besides breaking my mother’s heart, you’ve made it hard to button my jeans.”

  A strange, tiny flutter deep inside Melissa caught her by surprise. She pressed her hand tightly against the feeling.

  There it was again!

  A sense of wonder replaced the sadness she had been feeling. “You moved! I think you kicked me!”

  Melissa sat up and waited to see if she had imagined it. No, it was definitely a thump. Oh, why wasn’t Amy home? Melissa wanted to share this moment with someone. Richard’s face flashed into her mind. He would understand what a thrill this was. Would Dean feel the same way if she gave him the chance? She cupped both hands around her tummy.

  “Are you knocking? Do you want out? Don’t be in a hurry to get here, kid. Life isn’t all that grand. Your daddy’s run off. Your mother is a fool—and these could be the lyrics to a country-western song.”

  A bubble of giddiness rose in Melissa and erupted into a laugh. “I can’t believe I’m talking to my stomach.”

  Another faint thump, thump left no doubt. Her baby had moved. The thought was closely followed by the knowledge that he, or she, would soon be someone else’s baby.

  Melissa’s merriment faded. Conflicting emotions tumbled through her heart. Longing and misery, amazement and sorrow. She would give her child away as soon as it arrived in the world.

  “I hope you know this is the best thing for both of us. I’m not the kind of person who would make a good mother. Someday maybe you’ll understand that,” she whispered. “Maybe someday you’ll forgive me.”

  Melissa tipped her head back and sighed. One more giant heartache loomed on her horizon. Where would she find the strength she needed to do the right thing?

  Chapter Four

  It was almost ten o’clock the next morning before Melissa worked up the nerve to call Richard McNeil. The level of candy in the clear glass bowl Amy always kept on hand had dropped significantly and a pile of discarded foil wrappers littered the desktop.

  Thinking about putting her baby up for adoption was one thing. Actually making the call to tell Richard to start the process was a whole different story. Her mind said this was the right thing to do, but her heart seemed bent on arguing.

  “One small step at a time, girl,” she murmured as she grasped the receiver and held it to her ear. With her free hand, she punched in the numbers she had memorized, then she wadded the silver wrappers into a ball and tossed them into the trash can.

  When she told Richard about her decision, would he th
ink she was throwing her baby away?

  His secretary answered on the second ring and put Melissa through to him.

  “Richard McNeil speaking.” His voice came across sounding curt and professional. Her courage wavered.

  “Richard, this is Melissa Hamilton.”

  “Melissa, how are you today?”

  “Honestly? I’m frightened, confused, nervous and about to expire from an overdose of chocolate kisses,” she said in a rush. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine. Would it make you feel better to know that is how most people feel when they have to call an attorney?”

  She heard his amusement and she relaxed a little. “At least I’m not calling from jail.”

  “Always a good sign in my books.”

  “I wanted to let you know that I’ve made up my mind.”

  “And?”

  “I want you to help me find this child a good home.” She winced inwardly at her choice of words. This wasn’t like finding someone to take in a stray puppy.

  “Melissa, are you sure about this?”

  “Yes. Tell me what I need to do.” If only she could feel as sure as she sounded.

  “I’ll get the paperwork started. Have you thought about what type of adoption you want?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do you want an open adoption, where you choose and meet the adoptive parents and remain in limited contact with the child? Or would you rather not know anything about the family?”

  “Open sounds better, doesn’t it?”

  “That’s up to you.”

  “I guess I’ll have to think about that. What else do I need to know?”

  “As I told you, I have a friend who is an adoption attorney. I’ll have him put together some information for you and then we can go over it after you’ve had a chance to read it and think about it. After that, we’ll form an adoption plan. If you want to meet the prospective parents, I’ll set up some interviews.”