by ID Johnson
“You know what, why don’t you keep it?” she said, watching Michael’s face light up.
“Oh, Melody, we can’t do that.” Reid was shaking his head at his son, whose face began to fall.
“No, I insist.” Then, looking at Reid, she said, “From one new friend to another.”
There really wasn’t anything Reid could say to argue with that, so with a smile, he said, “Thank you, Melody,” and she felt her heart flutter for a moment before Michael’s bear hug enveloped her.
“Thank you, Miss Melody,” he said, squeezing as tightly as he could without dropping the train or embedding it in her knee. “You’re the nicest lady I ever met.”
Giggling, she patted his head and said, “You’re welcome, Michael. Thank you for helping fix my door knob.”
“You’re welcome.” He finally let go of her legs and reached for his father’s extended hand.
Melody followed them to the door. It was completely dark now, so she flipped the porch light on as Reid opened the door. “Thank you again,” she said, leaning on the door as they made their way onto the porch.
“No problem,” he said with a smile. “It was nice meeting you, Melody.”
“You, too.” Melody smiled and waved goodbye, and even though she wanted to watch them walk across the yard and continue to watch as they drove down the road, she forced herself to close the door. Leaning her back against the sturdy solid oak, she thought, “Is this the Christmas magic Dad was always talking about? Or am I just setting myself up for a little Christmas heartache?”
Chapter 3
Melody sat at the counter at Delaney’s Delight’s, sipping a cup of her friend’s award winning hot cocoa and puzzling over whether or not to say anything to Delaney about her new friend—should the opportunity even arise. The bakery was busy today, and every time Delaney came over to speak to her, she was quickly whisked away by a new customer or someone wanting a refill.
It had been nearly a week since she’d bumped into Michael and Reid at the hardware store, and even though she hadn’t seen either of them since, she just couldn’t get them out of her mind. Of course, Michael’s cuteness and outgoing personality resonated with her because he was just so sweet, but it was the curious blue eyes of his father that kept her up at night.
She’d considered creating a reason to get his number from Mrs. Gregory and calling him. A clogged toilet, maybe a broken window, those would be great reasons to call a handyman, right? And accidents happen…. But she would definitely have to pay him the next time he came to fix a problem at her mom’s house, and as much as she wanted to see him, fake emergencies just weren’t in the budget. She couldn’t count the number of times her father had had to fix something quickly while she was growing up in the house. Busted pipes, broken faucets, a hot water heater. Now that she actually wanted something to go wrong, her house suddenly seemed like a brand-new build, free of any and all defects.
When her mother had returned from her bridge game that night, she was ecstatic to find the popular new handyman had made a call at her house. Apparently, Reid was the talk of the town, at least when it came to her mother’s circle of friends. Mrs. Gregory was raving about him, so all of the other ladies in their Bible study group—which happened to be many of the same women her mother played bridge with—had to give him a try. Now, Sarah was tickled pink that she would also be able to share in the discussion whenever Reid’s work came up again. Melody didn’t tell her mother that she’d paid him with a toy train. The last thing she needed to do was create a situation where everyone in town wanted to barter for Reid’s work.
“Hey,” Delaney said, sliding to a halt on the other side of the counter. “Sorry. We’re just so busy. I feel like there’s twice as many people here as on a regular Monday afternoon.”
“I’ve noticed there’s been a lot more traffic lately, too,” Melody agreed, glancing over her shoulder to see that almost every table in the bakery was full of families and couples enjoying treats, shopping bags nestled at their feet.
“I think maybe some of your advertising has had something to do with it,” Delaney offered. “Lots of people say they didn’t even realize Charles Town had such a quaint little shopping district.”
“Not people from around here,” Melody said, repositioning her mug. “Everyone who lives in Charles Town knows that.”
“No, a lot of them are from out of town. It’s really kind of cool.”
“What makes you think that they learned about Charles Town from me?” She hadn’t done that much advertising, only spent a few hundred dollars on Facebook and Twitter.
Delaney reached down behind the counter and produced a familiar flyer. “This?” she said.
The flyer was one that Melody had posted online in several forums and also physically sent out to a mailing list of potential customers. It was the same one her mother was talking about last week when she mentioned customers bringing in an advertisement. With an unassuming smile, Melody said, “I’m glad it’s helping.”
“I think so,” Delaney nodded. “And….” Her brown eyes twinkled, and Melody knew the next thing she shared would be juicy, “It brought in a really cute Christmas tree farmer from Shepherdstown.”
Melody couldn’t help but smile. “Delaney… did you meet a boy?”
Her face was glowing. “Maybe….” She said. Dropping so that she was leaning on the counter on one elbow, she lowered her voice and said, “He stopped by last Saturday. Said he usually drives right on through or around Charles Town when he’s out making his deliveries, but he wanted to check out the downtown area for himself.” Her eyes were still twinkling. “Melody—he’s so cute. And nice. And… I really want to see him again.”
With a giggle, Melody said, “Well, why don’t you just drive over to Shepherdstown and pick out a nice Christmas tree? Did he tell you the name of his farm?”
“He did,” Delaney nodded. “I was thinking about that. I think they do most of their sales at lots—but maybe they sell trees there, too.”
“Doesn’t hurt to drive over and find out.”
Delaney had a look on her face that told Melody she was about to ask a favor but didn’t know how to word it. “Have you picked out your tree yet?” she asked.
Melody pursed her lips, knowing that Delaney knew she was treading on dangerous territory. “No, we were going to go Saturday, but mom decided to stay home and make some soup for Mrs. Tresco. She fell and broke her hip.”
“Maybe… you could go with me?”
Delaney’s big brown eyes were pleading, and Melody really wanted to say yes, knowing how difficult it must have been for Delaney to even ask her such a question, but she felt her head shaking before she even formulated the sentence. “Delaney, you know my dad’s rule: Only Murphy’s pick out the Murphy Christmas tree.”
Delaney’s enthusiasm evaporated. “So you’re strictly following your father’s guidelines this year?”
Melody nodded. “Trying to.”
“Then I guess you’ll be singing at the festival….”
“Delaney,” Melody cut her off. “Don’t.”
“Well, I just thought, if you’re following all of his rules….”
“Do not go there.” Melody was doing her best to control her irritation, but she was shocked her friend had even dared to mention singing anywhere at all, let alone at the Christmas festival.
“I’m sorry,” Delaney said, and Melody could see that she meant it. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I know this time of year is a delicate balance for you, trying to keep your father’s memory alive while dealing with the anniversary of … the accident. I just miss you, Melody. I miss the old you, the happy you. I just thought, maybe, it might be a way to bring some of that joy back into your life, if you were to sing again.”
“Delaney, I’m not having this conversation right now,” Melody said, scooting her mug across the counter and rising from the barstool.
“No, don’t go. I’m sorry,” Delaney insisted, placing her hand on
top of Melody’s. “I promise I won’t mention it again. Here, let me get you a refill.”
Taking a deep breath, Melody returned to her seat. She knew it wasn’t fair to take her frustration out on Delaney. Her friend was just trying to help. Still, she should’ve known that was the one topic that was off limits. As Delaney returned with her bright red mug, full to the top with steaming hot chocolate, tiny marshmallows peering over the top of the cup, she said, “I’m sorry, Delaney. I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you.”
“I shouldn’t have pushed so hard,” Delaney replied. “I’ve hardly had a chance to speak to you at all since you’ve gotten back, and I made you uncomfortable. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Melody assured her. “You know, just because I can’t get my Christmas tree with you doesn’t mean that we can’t go together to pick out your tree. If you still want me to go with you on Saturday, give me a call. We need to spend some quality time together anyway.”
Delaney’s beaming smile was back. “Thanks, Melody. Oh, I hope you get to meet Josh. He’s really nice.”
Melody couldn’t help but smile. Delaney deserved to meet a good guy. “I can’t wait to meet him.” Now, if she could only figure out how to bump into the guy she’d been thinking about for the last week.
Delaney was swept away by another customer, and glancing at her phone, Melody saw that it was almost 2:30. While she’d be perfectly content to sit and talk to Delany for hours, she had work to do at home, and apparently hanging out downtown was not the way to run into Reid, so with one last sip of her cocoa, she waved at Delaney and made her way out the door, hopeful that fate would intervene if things were truly meant to be.
Michael Perry climbed aboard bus 312 on a mission. The bus driver, Big Max, as he was known, smiled and greeted him with a, “How’s my favorite kindergartner today?”
“Good,” Michael smiled, hoping his dimple was especially adorable this afternoon. “I have a note from my dad. I’m supposed to go to his friend Miss Melody’s house today instead of Ms. Karen’s.” He held out the carefully typewritten note he’d taken most of the evening before to create, hoping it sounded like something a grown up might write, and waited.
“Is that a fact?” Big Max asked, taking the note from his mittened hand. “Let’s see here.” He read over the note and then looked at Michael, who was doing his best to look innocent. “Well, okay then. That’s on my route. Take a seat, kiddo.”
Michael nodded and made his way to his usual seat next to Hailey who was also in kindergarten but not in his class, hoping that Big Max had actually fallen for his scheme. It had been almost a week since he’d seen Miss Melody, and even though he’d asked his dad every day if they could go visit, he always said no. He said grown ups didn’t like it when people just stopped by unannounced. Michael said they could call first, but his dad said he didn’t have her phone number.
As the bus began to move, Michael leaned back in his seat. Hailey had long blonde hair, and he thought it might feel nice to wrap it around his hand and give it a tug. But he didn’t. His dad said that wasn’t nice, and young ladies should always be treated with respect. She smiled at him, a gap in the middle of her top teeth showing her pink tongue, and Michael began to wiggle his own loose tooth with his finger wondering when he might lose one himself.
Miss Melody was the nicest lady he’d ever met. She was pretty and sweet. She had gotten mad at him for playing the piano, but she forgave him. Even though he hadn’t seen her for a while, he’d been thinking about her a lot, wondering what she was doing, if she was smiling, if she was thinking of him. She was so pretty, and he wondered if she had ever thought about being a mommy. He just knew she’d be really good at it.
The bus made its way down the street where Ms. Karen’s house was, and Michael looked straight ahead, hoping that Big Max wouldn’t stop. Ms. Karen kept other kids at her house, but they were all smaller than Michael, and only one went to school. She was in pre-k and only went in the morning. There should be no reason for Big Max to stop at Ms. Karen’s house if he wasn’t stopping for Michael.
As the bus turned onto Washington Avenue, Michael couldn’t help but smile. Big Max was taking him to see Miss Melody.
There were a few stops before Michael could even see Miss Melody’s house, and it seemed like the other kids were taking forever to climb off of the bus. Finally, Big Max brought the vehicle to a halt in front of Miss Melody’s house. He could see her blue car in the driveway, so he knew she was home. He grabbed his backpack and made his way down the aisle, careful not to look too eager. As he passed by the driver he called, “Thanks Big Max. Have a good night.” The door opened with a squeal, and Michael climbed down the few steps. Deciding he better hurry before someone caught on to him, he began to run across the yard, up the thick brick steps, to Miss Melody’s porch. He pulled open the screen door, and thinking it might look suspicious if he had to knock, he turned the knob, hoping it was unlocked.
Melody was upstairs in the hallway shuffling some boxes around so that she could get the antique school desk to the stairs when she heard the front door open. Thinking it odd that her mother would be home so early, she put the box of collectibles she had in her hands down carefully on the ground and slid her way through the mess to the stairs. “Mom?” she shouted from the top of the stairs.
She wasn’t expecting the sound she heard next.
“Hi, Miss Melody! It’s me—Michael!” came a familiar high-pitched voice, and Melody’s eyes doubled in size.
“Michael?” she shouted, hurrying down the stairs. She saw him standing next to the front door about the time she made it halfway down the stairs. He was still wearing his backpack, and since Reid didn’t appear to be with him, she was completely confused. “What are you doing here? Where’s your dad?”
“I don’t know. At work, I guess,” he replied nonchalantly, smiling up at her. “I’ve been asking to come see you forever, and he said no, so I decided to come by myself.”
Melody could hardly believe her ears. “Michael, sweetie, where are you supposed to be right now?” she stooped so that she was at his eye-level.
“Ms. Karen’s,” he said with a shrug. “But I don’t really like it there. All the babies cry all the time, and we have to watch Nickelodeon. I don’t really like it much. I’d rather come and visit you. Do you have any cookies?”
Her head swirling from so much information, Melody took a deep breath before attempting to figure out what to do. “Honey, I’m sure that Ms. Karen is probably wondering where you are. You didn’t tell her you were coming here, did you?”
“No. Big Max dropped me off.”
“Who is Big Max?”
“He’s the bus driver. He’s really nice,” Michael explained, still smiling. “Can I take my coat off?”
Ignoring the question, Melody continued with her inquiry. “You just told him to bring you here and he did?”
“Well, no. I had a note. It’s kinda warm in here.”
“Where did you get a note?”
“My dad.” No longer awaiting permission, Michael slumped out of his backpack, which fell on the floor behind him, and wiggled out of his coat.
“Your dad said you couldn’t come over, and then he wrote you a note?” Melody asked.
“Nah, I wrote it. I like chocolate chip best, but any cookies will do. Or fruit snacks. I like fruit snacks, too.”
Melody realized now what had happened, and without pausing to consider why Michael would do something so deceitful in order to see her again, she reached for his backpack. “Do you know your dad’s phone number? Or is it in here?”
“I don’t know,” Michael shrugged again. “I don’t think it’s in there. Hey, you put out some new Santas!”
Michael darted off into the living room where she had gotten a bit more decorating done this week, and Melody unzipped his blue Jake and the Neverland Pirates backpack. Inside, she found a lunch box and a red folder. Though the folder contained a few worksheets from school and a pro
gress report for the day showing that Michael had earned a green smiley face, there was no contact information for Reid in the folder or on the backpack. She looked at the inside of Michael’s jacket, but it only had his name written on there.
Setting the backpack and coat against the wall by the door, Melody entered the living room to see Michael moving around some of the Santas she’d set up on a side table. “Michael, do you know Ms. Karen’s phone number? Or her address?”
“Nope. Hey, Miss Melody, could I have a snack now?”
“Yes, honey, in a minute. I just… have to figure out how to call your dad.”
Michael’s face fell. “Why? You don’t want me to visit?”
Stepping over toward him, Melody put her arm around his shoulders. “Oh, no, honey. It’s not that. I just don’t want your dad or Ms. Karen to be worried.”
“Okay,” Michael said, but his tone didn’t sound too convincing.
Unsure exactly what else she could do, Melody took her cell phone out of her pocket and called her mother. Praying that she would answer, she waited a few rings, and was relieved to hear her mom’s voice. “Mom, do you happen to have the handyman’s phone number? Reid?”
Her mother seemed to be thinking because it took an extra long time for her to answer. “No, darling. I don’t have it. Why, did we lose another door knob?”
The light tone of her mother’s voice was suddenly very irritating. “No, Mom. His son is here, and I need to get ahold of him. ASAP.”
“His son?” she asked, her tone changing rapidly. “What do you mean?”
“Mom, I don’t have time to explain. What about Mrs. Gregory? She’d have Reid’s number wouldn’t she?”
“I’m sure she would,” Sarah replied. “Do you have her number?”
“No,” Melody sighed. She crossed the room to a desk where she began to pull out a pad of paper and a pen as she asked, “Can you give it to me?”
“Yes, dear.” Her mom rattled off Mrs. Gregory’s phone number from memory, and Melody realized her mother had a talent unique to her era.