I knew that everyone had their own version of things, and I couldn’t tell Melody what her version should be, but I remembered being supportive. I’d stepped up to the plate and taken full responsibility.
“I was calm. Happy, even. I asked you to marry me.”
“Exactly!” She pointed at me as if I’d just made her point.
I wasn’t sure why that was a bad thing.
“You didn’t freak out at all. You were completely ready for all of it. A family, kids. You’d already lived that life. My mom was still doing my laundry. I wasn’t ready to grow up. And, then, when I lost the baby, I saw my way out. I knew that if I stayed in Firefly, if I stayed with you, it would just be a matter of time before we were in the same situation. I wasn’t ready.”
“Why didn’t you just say that?”
“Because, I was a kid, and it was easier to blame it on a curse than it was to have an honest talk with you. That just shows how immature I was.” She leaned toward me. “But I loved you. I don’t want you to think that I didn’t love you. And I still love you, Hank. And I’ve grown up. I know you’re probably still mad at me but—”
“I’m not mad at you.”
Her forehead creased. “But you didn’t call me back.”
“I had nothing to say.”
Melody stared into my eyes and I could see that she was looking for something, something between us, a spark maybe, but she wouldn’t find it. I cared about her, I always would. But I didn’t love her. I’m not sure I ever did.
“Okay, well, I just wanted you to know the truth. I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time, but I was scared. Then, I saw the documentary, and I thought…” She sighed. “It doesn’t matter what I thought. I think, deep down, I knew the truth.”
“What truth?”
A sad smile turned up on her lips. “You never fought for me. For us. I told you that I was leaving, and you let me go. You didn’t even ask me to stay. Not really. You just said that you still wanted to marry me. But I’m not sure how much of that had to do with me.”
We sat in silence and after a few minutes, she stood and I did as well.
I put my hands in my pockets and looked down at the ground. I could see that Melody was hurt, and that’s the last thing I’d ever want. But I didn’t want to give her false hope or lead her on.
“Well, it was good seeing you again Hank. You look good. Really good.” She started to walk to the front door but stopped short. “Actually, do you mind if I stay here tonight? Mama and Daddy sold their place since they retired down to Boca. And if I go to Mrs. B’s the whole town will know I’m here. I’d rather just leave tomorrow without it making front-page news that I’d been here.”
I wanted to tell her that she had nothing to worry about and send her to Mrs. B’s but I knew I couldn’t do that. Because she was right. If she went there, there might be an article about it in the tomorrow’s newspaper.
Going against my gut was not something I normally did, but I nodded and agreed even though I didn’t feel comfortable about her staying here. My unease had nothing to do with Melody and everything to do with Skylar. I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea.
“You can take my room.”
I walked up the stairs and Melody followed behind me. I grabbed a fresh set of sheets from the hallway linen closet. Also some towels, in case she wanted to take a shower in the morning.
“Your old room.” Her hand ran along the wall in the exact spot that our homecoming picture used to be framed and hung as I switched out the linens on the bed. “Lots of memories in here.”
There were. And just like seeing her again had been a dichotomy so were the memories. They felt like ancient history and just yesterday all at the same time.
After I finished making up the bed, I walked into the hallway, grabbing the doorknob as I did. “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay? For old times’ sake?”
Without turning around, I replied, “Goodnight, Melody.”
As I shut the door behind me and made my way downstairs I considered messaging Skylar to let her know the arrangements. But when I looked out the back window I saw that there were no lights on in her house. She was probably already in bed. She needed whatever sleep she could get. I’d let her know tomorrow.
And I’d also let her know that my feelings for her were serious. That I didn’t want to wake up one morning and find out that she and Luna had left. And that I loved her.
Melody showing up had made me realize I didn’t want to let another second pass leaving things unsaid. Because if I did, then I might miss an opportunity to be with her. And that would be the greatest tragedy of my life.
CHAPTER 41
Skylar
“Is your hand shaking, Momma?” Luna asked with worry in her voice as she held out her forefinger.
“No, Lu Lu, it isn’t,” I assured her.
“Cause sometimes it shakes when Mr. Hank is here.”
I knew that my observant child was stalling, but she wasn’t wrong. It did shake when Mr. Hank was around. And so did the rest of my body.
“Mr. Hank isn’t here,” I reminded her, and myself.
He’s at his house with his ex. Or at least I assumed she was still there. I’d resisted the urge to spy on him from the kitchen window to see if I could spot her car or not.
“You ready?” I asked as I lowered the sanitized needle to her skin.
She squeezed her eyes shut as she held Princess Penelope Pineapple tight and nodded.
Luna had been “working on the house” just like Mr. Hank and had gotten a splinter. I was performing “surgery” to extract the piece of wood.
Calling on the skills I’d employed as the reigning undefeated Operation champion, I managed to easily extract the wood from beneath the surface of the skin and grab the tip with tweezers before removing it completely and setting it on the kitchen counter.
“Okay, all done,” I announced as I held Luna’s finger over the sink and poured hydrogen peroxide over the wound.
“It is?” Her eyes flew open and she looked down at her hand in disbelief.
“Yep.” I dabbed the area with Neosporin and wrapped it with a Peppa Pig Band-Aid.
“Can we go see Hank? I want to show him.” Luna held up her wrapped, battle-scarred finger proudly.
I wish. Was it wrong that I wanted to use my child as an excuse to show up on his doorstep? Probably. But sometimes being wrong felt really right.
Unfortunately, no matter how right it felt, it would be impossible. “We can’t. We’re late for your art class.”
We were meeting Mrs. Birch downtown at the art class that she’d given Luna as a birthday present. So far she’d only attended one but she’d loved it and I had an original Luna Thompson hanging in my bedroom to show for it.
“Okay, but can we show him after the class?”
“Maybe.” I gave her a non-answer as we rushed out the door and got in the SUV.
Luna buckled herself in and I climbed into the driver’s side repeating a silent mantra as I backed out and started down the drive.