Patricia Davids - Prodigal Daughter

“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?

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 think 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.”