Prodigal Daughter

by Patricia Davids

  Tears stung Melissa’s eyes. “I thought he loved me. I wanted…oh, I don’t know what I wanted. Maybe to be someone other than Melissa Hamilton.

  “At first Dean seemed genuinely happy about the baby. It wasn’t until he started talking about how much money my ‘old man’ would shell out for his grandkid that I started to see Dean for what he was. Someone who wanted me only because I was Wallace Hamilton’s daughter. Dean didn’t have stars in his eyes when he looked at me, he had dollar signs.”

  “I’m so sorry. It must have been awful.”

  “Once I convinced him that my stern, Southern father wasn’t going to give his pregnant, runaway daughter a dime, Dean couldn’t leave fast enough.”

  She didn’t tell her sister about the way Dean had thrown a wad of money at her and told her to “Get rid of it.” She didn’t mention how she spent the money paying for another week in the same motel, or about the days and nights she had waited in that dingy place hoping Dean would change his mind and come back for her. Even now, she shuddered to recall the fear and loneliness that kept her pinned in that small room with the snowy TV, peeling, faded purple wallpaper and black mildew climbing the tiles around the chipped bathtub.

  After a week, she accepted the fact that he was gone for good. There had been nothing left to do but pack her few belongings and board a bus.

  Amy took Melissa’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m glad you came home.”

  Melissa nodded, too choked by emotion to speak.

  Amy rose from the sofa. “Why don’t I fix us a cup of tea?”

  Without waiting for a reply, she moved to the kitchen and Melissa had a few minutes to compose herself. She was so much more emotional of late. One minute she was fine and the next she found herself crying a river. It had to be the pregnancy. She certainly didn’t intend to shed one more tear over Dean.

  Leaning her head back on the sofa, Melissa closed her eyes. She was so tired. Her nerves had been strung tighter than fiddle strings all day. She needn’t have worried. Her big sister was happy to see her in spite of the trouble she brought. Maybe being home wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  Melissa opened her eyes and wondered where she was. Pushing her hair out of her face, she struggled to sit up. Both her neck and her back protested the change in position. The afghan covering her slid to the floor and she remembered she was at her sister’s condo.

  The living room was dark except for a single lamp glowing softly on the cherrywood desk in the corner of the room. She squinted at the clock on the wall. It said six-thirty.

  The darkness beyond the window had to mean it was six-thirty in the morning. Had she really slept away half the day and all of the night?

  Rising, she stretched away her aches, then wiggled her toes and wondered where Amy had stashed her shoes. Looking around, she saw them peeking from under the Monet-styled throw her sister had used to cover her. She folded the blanket, donned her clogs and headed for the kitchen. Now, she was definitely hungry.

  A quick survey of the fridge netted her cream cheese and blueberry bagels. She popped the bagels in the toaster, set the kettle on to boil and happily discovered her favorite brand of tea bags in the cupboard beside the sink. She inhaled their pungent fragrance and was instantly struck by memories of herself, her sisters and her mother all enjoying morning tea on the terrace at home.

  “You’re up early.” Amy stood in the kitchen door. Her normally immaculate hair had run amok in the night and the pink terry cloth bathrobe over her pajamas had seen better days.

  Melissa felt a stab of guilt. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

  “No, I have to go into the office early today. How are you feeling?”

  “Better, I think. I couldn’t believe I was so tired, but I’m as hungry as a horse.”

  “I’d offer to make breakfast, but I see you’ve helped yourself. Will you fix me a cup of tea while you’re at it?”

  “I was just thinking about how we used to join Mom on the terrace for tea in the mornings. Dad would be bellowing from inside the house, ‘Nora, where’s my briefcase?’ Mom would smile and say, ‘It’s on the hall table. Right where you left it, Wallace.’ Then he would come out and give us all a kiss before he left for the office and tell us how pretty we were, but you knew he was really telling Mom how pretty she was.”

  Amy slipped her arm around Melissa’s shoulders. “There will be plenty of good times with Mom and Dad again.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Have faith. I don’t believe the Lord is ready to take our dad. I think He has other plans for him.”

  “I wish I shared your belief, but I don’t. Not anymore.”

  “Is that because of Jennifer?”

  Jennifer Wilson had been Melissa’s best friend since kindergarten. She had been witty and funny—always laughing and often getting them both into trouble. Then, the year Jenny turned sixteen, she died of cancer, and Melissa had been by her side.

  Melissa nodded, the ache of grief suddenly sharper than it had been in a long time. “God doesn’t care how good someone is or how hard you pray. Dead is dead.”

  “Oh, honey. You are so wrong about that. We can’t know what God has planned for any of us, but He loves us. And dead isn’t dead. Death is simply crossing over to a better place where we get to meet Jesus face-to-face.”

  Melissa used the whistling kettle as an excuse to end the conversation. “Looks like the water is ready. Do you want cream or sugar in your tea?”

  Amy hesitated, but seemed to understand that Melissa wanted to change the subject. “A little cream.”

  The conversation lagged until the women were seated at the table. Melissa finished half her bagel before Amy spoke again.

  “What are your plans, Melissa?”

  “I plan to finish the rest of my breakfast.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “The funny part is, so am I. I can’t think beyond the next fifteen minutes, let alone make plans for my future.”

  “You have someone else’s future to think about.”

  “Don’t you think I know that? I’m not mother material. I mean, look at me! I can’t take care of myself. I’m a college dropout. I’ve always lived at home. I’ve never had to take care of anyone. I don’t even have a job.” Melissa’s bagel suddenly lost its appeal. She laid it on her plate, then picked up her spoon and stirred the contents of her cup.

  “You have a job.”

  She glanced at Amy and raised one eyebrow. “I do?”

  “Dad wouldn’t let Tim fill your position at the paper. Instead, he placed you on indefinite leave. You still have a job—one with benefits, like health insurance, which will come in very handy.”

  “Do you see what I mean? I never even thought about insurance.”

  Amy reached across the table and laid a hand on Melissa’s arm. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve had a lot on your mind. I know this can’t be easy for you.”

  “I wish none of this had happened. I wish Dad wasn’t sick and I wish I’d never met Dean, or run off with him. I wish I could erase the past six months and go back to being a bored copy aide at the Dispatch, answering phones and compiling paperwork for the editors.”

  “Oh, Melissa.”

  “It’s not possible. I know, but I wish it were.”

  “It’s going to be hard, but you have to start looking ahead.”

  Melissa remembered Richard’s advice and nodded. “I need to take things one small step at a time.”

  “That’s right.” Amy smiled and took a sip of her tea.

  “I guess if I have a job, that’s a start.”

  “That’s a good start, although a few things have changed at Hamilton Media that you should know about.”

  “Like what? Besides Tim’s running the show now that Jeremy has left. You mentioned Ellen Manning was now the magazine’s ex-makeover expert. I never really liked her anyway. Don’t tell me the Gordons have retired?”

  “I doubt you or I will live to see that day. N
o, Jeremy had to fire our accountant, Curtis Resnick.”

  “You’re kidding. They’ve been friends for ages.”

  “Curtis was embezzling from us. Because they had been such good friends, Jeremy fired him instead of turning him in to the police. That was really what sparked the dustup between Dad and Jeremy.”

  “I see. Poor Jeremy. And poor Tim, to have to take over when things were in such an uproar. How is he handling things?”

  “He was pretty tough on the staff, at first. They started calling him Typhoon Tim behind his back, but I have to admit he has found his stride. The business is doing well with him at the helm.”

  “Anything else I need to know?”

  Amy looked down at her teacup. “Not right at the moment.”

  Melissa had the feeling there was more, but she didn’t want to pressure her sister.

  Suddenly, Amy looked up and said, “Why don’t you move back home with Mom? The place is certainly big enough.”

  The idea was tempting, but somehow Melissa knew that if she did, things were never going to change. She would let her well-meaning family take over more and more of her responsibilities instead of facing them herself. “I think I’d rather get a place of my own.”

  “You’re welcome to stay here until you find something. I only have one bedroom, but you’re welcome to the sofa.”

  “Thanks. I may have to stay for a little while.”

  “Melissa, you haven’t said what you intend to do about the baby.”

  “You noticed that?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “I’ve been thinking about what I should do for months. I know I told you the baby belonged with me, but in my heart, I also know I’m not cut out to be a mother.”

  “Have you thought about adoption?”

  “I’ve thought about it a lot.”

  “And?”

  “I’m not sure. I mean—I may be the pits as a mother, but what if some weirdo gets her or him? You hear horror stories all the time.”

  “There is someone at the paper you should talk to. She adopted a child not long ago. I think she might be able to put your mind at ease on that score. But there is something else you need to think about. Dean may be out of the picture as far as you’re concerned, but he has exactly the same rights to your baby as you do.”

  “The guy is a jerk.”

  “Granted, but jerk or not, he’s the baby’s father. He may have to surrender his rights the same way you will in order to place the child for adoption. Before you make any decisions you need to know where you stand legally. You need to talk to Richard McNeil.”

  “Mr. McNeil can see you now, Miss Hamilton.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Woodrow.” Melissa rose from her chair in the reception area and followed Richard’s secretary down a mahogany-paneled hall to his office. Richard stood holding the door open and waiting for her.

  “Hello again, Melissa. Come on in.” He indicated one of a pair of burgundy leather chairs that faced his desk. He was wearing another beautifully tailored suit, a dark blue pinstripe with a light blue dress shirt. This time a patterned tie completed the look. The outfit made his eyes seem darker, more intense. Perhaps it was only her imagination.

  “I’m thankful you could see me on such short notice.” Melissa took a seat and plucked at the front of her wine-colored velvet tunic. It was another loose-fitting top that she hoped would hide her expanding waistline. She kept her handbag in her lap.

  “You said it was important.” Instead of sitting behind the desk, he sat in the chair next to hers.

  Melissa’s grip tightened on her handbag until her knuckles whitened. This would be the best thing for her child, but how did she go about telling someone who had known her all her life that she didn’t want her own baby? What would he think?

  He leaned forward in the chair and laid a comforting hand over her tightly clenched ones. “Anything you say to me will be kept in the strictest confidence.”

  She managed a weak smile. “I know that. After all, you never told anyone I was the culprit behind the Reindeer heists.”

  He chuckled and sat back. “No. I never squealed on you. Although how you managed to steal nine of them in one night without getting caught remains a mystery to this day. You weren’t old enough to drive.”

  “I borrowed some shopping carts from the Piggy Wiggly parking lot.”

  “Ah! And how did you get the deer into the school and dressed in the basketball team’s jerseys?”

  “They looked good, didn’t they? The Davis Landing Bucks weren’t winning any games that year. I thought we needed a whole new team. Getting into the building was a bit difficult. Getting them dressed wasn’t hard.”

  “I always figured it was an inside job.”

  “Remember the night watchman, Mr. Chapman?”

  “Don’t tell me that he helped you, after all? I thought the reason you came to me was so that he wouldn’t lose his job.”

  “He didn’t exactly help, but he did step out often for a smoke break. He’d leave the gym door propped open sometimes. Once we—I was inside, it was easy to wait until he left to make his rounds again. It didn’t seem fair of the school board to let him go because of my prank.”

  “You did the right thing when you called me and confessed that you and Jennifer had stolen Rudolph and his team from the Christmas display in front of the Wilcox home.”

  She tipped her head to the side. “I never told you Jennifer was the one who helped me.”

  “You two were thick as thieves back then. Who else would have helped you pull off a stunt like that?”

  “She always had the coolest ideas.”

  “And you were the one who couldn’t let someone else take the blame. So what is this about, Melissa? Not more stolen reindeer, I hope?”

  She looked down at her hands, not wanting to see the expression on his face. “I wish that was all. I came today because I need your help.”

  “I’m listening.”

  There was no way to beat around this bush. She gave up trying and blurted out, “I’m pregnant.”

  Chapter Three

  A long silence met Melissa’s declaration. She chanced a peek at Richard. She expected him to be stunned, but she was surprised to see that he looked…hurt and disappointed. The expression was fleeting. When he met her gaze, he smiled and said, “What kind of help can I give you?”

  So far, so good. “I want to find out about adoption.”

  “You want to place your baby for adoption?” He looked astounded.

  She stared down at her handbag and began to open and close the clasp without noticing what she was doing. “I think it would be the best thing, don’t you?”

  Click, click.

  “Just because I’ve made a mess of my life is no reason to mess up my kid’s life. Right?”

  Click, click.

  “I mean, look at me. I’ve only got a job because my daddy owns the paper. I’m a college dropout. I don’t even have a place to live. I’m staying with Amy, but she only has one bedroom and her sofa isn’t that great to sleep on.”

  She continued clicking her bag open and shut until Richard placed his large, warm hand over hers and held them still. “Melissa, are you sure about this?”

  His touch was so gentle and comforting. She looked into his bright blue eyes filled with kindness and it was as if a dam broke inside her. Her words came out in a rush of emotion. “I’m not sure of anything. I have no idea what I should do. My father is always sure about everything. My mother is the same way. My brothers and my sisters, they all seem to know what they want in life. Even you! You knew you wanted to be a lawyer and that was that.

  “What’s wrong with me that I can’t see my way? Why is my life such a fog when everyone around me sees things so clearly? Why am I so different? My family puts up with me because they love me, but I always disappoint them. I’m tired of forever making the wrong choices. I want to start making the right decisions. How do you do it?”

  “I can’t an
swer that for you, Melissa. All I can say is that life isn’t about making one choice and then everything falls into place. I face tough choices all the time. I use my faith as a guide and I try to make the choices I believe God wants me to make. Sometimes I fail.”

  “Then what do you do?”

  “I try to take an honest look at why I made that decision. Then I try to fix what went wrong.”

  “That’s what I want to do. I want to fix what I did wrong.”

  “Have you discussed this with your parents?”

  She raised her chin. “No. This has to be my decision.”

  “That’s true, but this isn’t an easy task. It will require a strong commitment and you will need your family’s support. Have you been to see your father?”

  “My sister, Amy, is helping me. I haven’t told anyone else. I’m certainly not ready to have Dad read me the riot act.”

  “I think you’re misjudging him.”

  “No, if there’s one thing I do know, it’s that Dad is going to be furious when he hears this. Oh, he won’t be surprised. He always said I’d come to no good if I didn’t mend my ways. I think that’s what I hate most about this. I ended up proving him right.”

  “Nothing has to be decided today, Melissa. Here is what I want you to do. Sleep on this decision. If tomorrow you still feel this is what you want, call me and I’ll help find a suitable couple for the child.”

  “But tomorrow is Saturday.”

  “I have special hours for special clients. Call me. I’ll be here.”

  “Amy mentioned that Dean has a right to the baby and that he could block the adoption.”

  “That’s true. As the child’s father, he can.”

  “Do we have to tell him about it? He told me to get rid of the baby. He doesn’t want anything to do with us.”

  “Many people say things in the heat of the moment that they later regret. Either way, legally, we will need his consent. Do you know how to contact him?”

  “I’ll give you the name of his band manager. He should be able to find Dean.”

  “Good.” Richard stood and helped Melissa to her feet. Slipping his arm around her shoulder, he gave her a quick hug. “I’m not an adoption attorney, I do corporate law, but I have a good friend who runs an adoption clinic. With his help, I’ll take care of all the legal paperwork. Try not to worry. Everything will work out.”