by ID Johnson
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Let me know how it goes,” Sarah insisted.
“Will do,” Melody replied as she disconnected the call. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Michael was no longer in the room. She thought she heard noises coming from the kitchen, so she punched in Mrs. Gregory’s number and went to search for him as the phone rang. “Please, pick up!” she muttered as she literally caught Michael with his hand in the cookie jar. He smiled at her mischievously as he pulled out one of the chocolate chip cookies her mother had baked a few nights ago, and Melody couldn’t help but smile despite the anxiety rising in her chest. What would happen if Reid thought Michael was missing? Surely, he’d panic—and Melody wanted to avoid that, if at all possible.
Reid finished tightening a loose spindle near the top of the steep stairwell when he realized his cell phone was ringing. It was about time for Michael to get to Ms. Karen’s house, so he decided he better check and make sure everything was okay. Pulling it out of his pocket and glancing at the display, he saw that it was the sitter calling and answered the phone immediately.
“Hello?” he said, and the panic in Ms. Karen’s voice when she responded lit everyone of his nerves on fire.
“Reid, it’s Karen. Do you have Michael with you today?”
“No, he’s not there?” Reid asked, dropping his tools and rising to his full height.
“No, the school bus came by, but it didn’t stop. I called the school, and Michael’s teacher said that he got on the bus like he always does. They’re trying to get ahold of the bus driver, but… Reid, I’m concerned. I don’t know what to do.”
Reid took a deep breath as he mentally beat off the invading thoughts of all the horrible things that could have happened to his little boy. “I’m sure there’s a logical explanation,” he said, heading down the stairs. “If he got on the bus, he has to be somewhere. Maybe the bus driver forgot and will bring him back around.” It seemed like a possibility, but thoughts of losing his child began to creep in around the edges of his imagination, and Reid had to fight hard to keep his thoughts positive.
As he reached the landing at the bottom of the stairs, Mrs. Gregory came out of the living room. “Reid,” she said gesturing wildly, “Melody Murphy is on the phone for you. She says it’s important.”
“Melody Murphy?” Reid repeated. Why did that name sound familiar? He suddenly realized Mrs. Gregory must be talking about the girl he’d met in the hardware store, though he’d never caught her last name. Why would Melody be calling him at Mrs. Gregory’s house? “Is it about Michael?” he asked.
“She didn’t say,” Mrs. Gregory replied, gesturing that he should follow her into the living room.
“Reid?”
He realized he still had Karen on his cell phone. “Sorry, Karen. Someone just called Mrs. Gregory’s house looking for me. It might be about Michael. I’ll call you right back.” He didn’t wait for a reply before he disconnected his cell phone call and took the receiver from Mrs. Gregory’s hand. “Hello?” he said, trying to keep his tone even.
“Reid? It’s Melody. I’m sorry to bother you, but Michael is at my house.”
Letting go a sigh of relief, Reid felt his muscles begin to relax. Why his son was at her house was another matter entirely, but at least he knew where Michael was now, and he knew he was safe. Before he could formulate a response, Melody continued.
“He said he wrote a note to the bus driver. Anyway, he’s here, and he’s safe, but I didn’t want you to find out he wasn’t at Ms. Karen’s and panic—and I didn’t want her to worry either.”
“No, I just got off the phone with Karen, and she was wondering where he might be. I’m so glad you tracked me down.”
“I thought Mrs. Gregory would have your number. I didn’t realize you’d actually be there, but it’s great that you are,” Melody explained with a chuckle, and Reid could picture her bright green eyes in his mind, the little crinkle that formed when she laughed. Returning his mind to his son, he thought at least Michael would get to spend some time with the friend he’d been asking about for almost a week—before he was grounded for the rest of his life. “Anyway, he can stay here for a little while if you need to finish up whatever you’re working on.”
“That’s very nice of you,” Reid replied, finally fully regaining his composure. “He’ll definitely have a consequence for this. He knows better than to take off like that and lie to his bus driver.”
“Right,” she said, “maybe he forgot that Santa’s watching.” He could tell by her tone and the volume of her voice that Michael must be able to hear her and that comment was directed at the little boy.
“I should be able to pick him up in ten or fifteen minutes, if that’s all right.”
“Oh, sure,” she replied. “He’s eating a snack, and then he wants to help me put out a few more Christmas decorations, but I told him no TV.”
“After this, he might never get to watch TV again,” Reid muttered. “Thank you so much, Melody. I really appreciate your understanding.”
“No problem. See you in a bit.”
“Bye.” Reid hung up the phone and took a deep breath, thankful for Melody’s kindness. Some people would’ve been upset to have to rearrange their afternoon to babysit an uninvited guest.
“Is everything okay?” Mrs. Gregory asked, her kind eyes wrinkled in concern.
“Yes,” Reid assured her, turning to face her. “Michael decided to go to Miss Melody’s house today instead of Ms. Karen’s.”
“Oh, no!” Mrs. Gregory exclaimed, but she put a hand over her mouth to hide her smile. “Well, that boy of yours sure knows how to pick ‘em. Did you do some work at Sarah’s place?”
Reid assumed Sarah must be Melody’s mother. “Yes, we ran into Melody at the hardware store, and I helped her reattach a door knob. Michael has been talking about her ever since.”
“Melody is a sweet girl,” Mrs. Gregory nodded. “I’ve known her since she was in diapers. The Murphys go to the same church I attend—the First Baptist, over on Third Street. Such a pretty girl, that Melody. A shame about her father though.”
Reid nodded, pulling his cell phone out, realizing he needed to call Ms. Karen back. “Melody seems like a very nice person.”
“And she sings like an angel,” Mrs. Gregory continued. “But… well, since her father died… things just haven’t been the same.”
The expression on Mrs. Gregory’s face showed concern, and Reid wondered what her comments meant exactly. He remembered what Melody had said that afternoon about the piano. A flood of questions filled his mind, but he didn’t really have time to ask more just then. “Mrs. Gregory, would it be all right if I came back in a few days to fix your roof? I finished the stairwell, but I think I need to go get my son and have a little talk with him about the importance of doing as he’s told.”
With a warm smile, Mrs. Gregory said, “Of course. Little boys can be a handful sometimes. You just come back when you get a chance.”
Reid nodded. “Thank you,” he said and hurried out of the room and up the stairs to get his tools and head over to Melody’s house. Michael hadn’t been the only one thinking about Melody these past few days. There was just something about her smile, the light in her eyes, that had drawn him to her. Even though he hadn’t even thought about dating for as long as he could remember, Melody was different. While he’d been too timid to attempt to run into her again, his son had been bold and taken matters into his own hands. Michael would certainly hear about how his behavior was unacceptable, but as he put his last tool into his toolbox and dialed Karen’s phone number, Reid felt butterflies in his stomach thinking about seeing Melody again.
Chapter 4
Michael was sprawled across from her on her father’s favorite oriental rug, studying the checkerboard with the scrutiny of a general poring over his battle plans. She’d called her mother to let her know Michael’s dad was on his way so she wouldn’t worry. Now, Melody couldn’t help but smile watching Michae
l stick his tongue out of the side of his mouth in concentration as if that would help him to decide which move to make next.
“I think you’re stalling,” she said with a wink. It had been a long time since she’d played checkers, and while she intended to let him win, she at least wanted to make it a challenge.
“I’m not stalling,” he replied, looking up at her with those big blue eyes. “I’m thinkin’.” He finally made a move, and Melody began to contemplate what she should do next to set him up for subtler success. “Do you really think Santa will be mad at me?”
Melody didn’t have a whole lot of experience with children, though she occasionally volunteered in the nursery at church and had taught a few Sunday school lessons. “I don’t know,” she said thinking Santa had to be a pretty big deterrent to bad behavior this time of year. “But I’m guessing you should probably be on your best behavior for the rest of the month.”
Letting out a sigh like a January breeze, Michael sat up so that he was cross-legged. It was his move now, but he suddenly seemed disinterested in the game of checkers. “I try to be good,” he said, running his hand through the textured rug, “but sometimes it’s hard. All week, I’ve been asking Dad if I could come and see you. You said we are friends now, right? So how come I can’t come to your house?”
Offering him a smile, Melody tried to explain, “Honey, coming to my house wasn’t the part that wasn’t okay—it was that your dad and Ms. Karen didn’t know where you were. And I think you lied to the bus driver, didn’t you?” Michael’s blond head slowly bobbed up and down. “I tell you what, when your dad gets here, I’ll make sure he has my phone number. He can call me the next time you want to come over, and if I’m here, I’ll be more than happy to have you over anytime. You are my friend. I just don’t want people to think you’re lost.”
A weight seemed to lift from Michael’s shoulders. “Thank you, Miss Melody,” he said with a smile. “You’re nice. I knew you would be nice. That’s why I talked to you in the hardware store.”
Melody couldn’t help but beam at the sweet compliment from such a cute little boy. “Thank you, honey. You’re nice, too. And you’re always welcome here, so long as your dad says it’s okay.”
“You’re pretty, too,” Michael continued without missing a beat. He picked up a checker and moved it on the board, jumping over one of hers. “My dad says you’re pretty.”
Melody froze, not sure she heard him correctly. Trying to hold back her racing pulse, she took a breath and swallowed before she said, “What’s that?”
“Oh, yeah. My dad said you are pretty. You think my dad’s handsome?” he asked, peering up at her with his blue eyes wide.
Stammering, Melody said, “I, uh, I guess I never really noticed,” and cleared her throat, not sure what to think about his first comment, let alone the question. Had Reid actually said he thought she was pretty—or was it a trick, like the question she’d just been asked?
“I bet you think he’s handsome, too,” Michael said, eyeing the board again. “It’s your turn.”
Returning her attention to the game, Melody moved one of her pieces to a position where he could easily jump it on his next move. “Why do you think that?” she asked, trying to keep her voice nice and light.
Michael jumped her black checker with his red. “Because he looks like me!” he replied, enthusiastically, with a laugh.
Melody couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “Well, that is true,” she said. “And you are definitely handsome.”
The sound of his high pitched laughter filled the room. “I’m glad I met you, Miss Melody. Ms. Karen is nice but she’s old. And Mrs. Gregory and the other ladies Daddy works for are nice, but they’re mostly way old. You’re pretty and nice. And you have cool stuff to play with at your house.”
Trying not to laugh at his innocence, Melody bit the inside of her cheek and finally managed to say, “Thank you, Michael.” She made her next move and was waiting for him to decide what to do when she heard the doorbell ring.
“Aw, man! Already?” Michael exclaimed. “We aren’t even done with the game yet.”
“You make your move, and I’ll go let your dad in,” Melody said. “Maybe he’ll let us finish the game before you go.”
Michael’s face lit up at the thought and he puzzled over which checker to move as she pulled herself up off of the floor and made her way to the front door.
She straightened the hem of her pink sweater and brushed her hair back over her shoulders. Upon opening the door, she could tell immediately that he was a bit frazzled, and she couldn’t blame him. Despite the fact that he had been trying to sound calm on the phone, she knew he must have been moments away from a panic attack the second he found out Michael hadn’t made it to Ms. Karen’s house. “Hi, Reid,” she said, smiling and attempting to keep her own voice cheerful. If she didn’t think it was a big deal that his son had sought her out because Michael thought she was “nice and pretty,” maybe Reid wouldn’t either.
“Melody, hi,” he said, stepping through the doorway. “It’s nice to see you again, though I didn’t expect it to be under these circumstances.”
He was smiling politely, and she giggled at his comment, hoping she didn’t sound like a door knob again. “Oh, it’s no problem,” she assured him. “Michael and I were just finishing up a game of checkers. I know what he did was extremely dangerous, but I am glad I got to spend some time with him. He’s a sweet boy.”
“He is sweet,” Reid agreed his hands in his coat pockets. “Sweet, and smart, and rotten to the core.”
Melody couldn’t contain her laughter that time, and she put her hand over her mouth to try to stifle it. “I don’t know about that,” she said. “He does have a mischievous twinkle in his eye.”
“I have no idea where he gets that from.”
A giggle escaped her lips, and Melody dropped her eyes, an attempt to avoid that same mischievous twinkle before she became entrapped. She felt the color begin to creep up her neck, and quickly turned away. “Michael is in here,” she said, over her shoulder, as Reid followed her into the living room. “Boy, does he know his way around a checker board. Mind if we finish really quickly, or do you have some place you need to be?”
Before he could answer, Michael stood and ran across the room “Dad!” he exclaimed, flinging himself at his father’s knees.
“Hi Michael,” Reid said, picking him up. “Don’t think just because you’re cute you’re not getting into any trouble for this. You had both Ms. Karen and me very worried.”
“I’m sorry, Dad,” Michael said, looking up at his father with sad, blue eyes. “I’ll never do it again.”
“You’d better not,” Reid replied, setting him down. “No, I don’t have anywhere to be—now,” he said, returning his attention to Melody.
Realizing he must be implying he was missing out on work because of this situation, Melody gave him a sympathetic smile.
“Can we finish our game, please, Dad?” Michael asked, hopping up and down.
With a sigh, Reid said, “I guess so. We’ll talk about your consequences when we get home.”
“Yay!” Michael shouted, and grabbing the sleeve of Melody’s sweater, he pulled her across the room.
“Do you want a drink or anything?” Melody asked as she gestured toward the sofa and let herself be tugged across the room. Michael let go and plopped back on the floor, but she waited for an answer before she sat back down.
“I’m fine, thank you,” Reid said, taking a seat on the couch a few feet away from where Michael was pondering the checkerboard. His words were contradicted by the sigh he let go, and Melody imagined the day had not quite turned out the way he had expected.
She rejoined Michael on the floor and inspected the checkerboard. “Is it my turn?” she asked.
“Yes,” Michael nodded. “I took three of your checkers while you were gone. I jumped ‘em.”
“Well, then!” she said seeing what she had left to work with.
“Nuh-uh,” Michael insisted, giving his father a funny look. “I don’t have to cheat. Miss Melody isn’t very good at checkers.”
Melody let loose an insulted laugh and considered proving him wrong. She could easily jump all of the pieces he had left on the board if she wanted to. As Reid reminded him that he needed to use nice words, Melody decided to make an easy move instead. If she ended the game too quickly, Reid would leave, and even though she wasn’t exactly getting a chance to talk to him while she was playing with his son, at least he was in the same room.
As soon as she was done, Michael jumped two more of her checkers, leaving her with just four, while he had eight. “Told you,” he said under his breath.
Melody exchanged glances with Reid, and he was just shaking his head at his child’s antics. She made another move, knowing he would also take advantage of that one and tried to think of something interesting to say. “What were you working on at Mrs. Gregory’s house?” It wasn’t brilliant, but it was conversation at least.
He leaned back against the sofa cushions and ran a hand through his hair. “I was fixing a few loose spindles on her stairwell and the newel post. But the roof damage from that oak tree out front is going to have to wait until next week, I guess.”
Michael was scrutinizing the board again, and she wondered if he was also employing stall tactics so that he could stay longer. “I’m surprised you have any time at all, the way my mother’s friends talk about you. She says you’re the talk of the town—in her circle anyway. Her bridge group, the ladies at the hair salon, her Bible study group—all of them keep raving about how good your work is and how you don’t charge an arm and a leg.”
He smiled, and she hoped she’d done a bit of repair work on the damage she may have caused the other night, not realizing he was the handyman her mom kept mentioning. With a laugh he said, “Maybe I need to find a younger clientele.”