Prodigal Daughter

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Prodigal Daughter Page 9

by Patricia Davids


  As he walked down the austere, brightly lit corridor toward Wallace’s room, Richard went over in his mind the things he needed to say and the things that would be better left unsaid until Melissa found the courage to face her father.

  That she hadn’t been to see her father already troubled Richard deeply. He prayed daily for her to find the spiritual and emotional strength she needed. The other thing troubling him was his growing attraction to her. It was difficult to believe she had only been back in town a week. During that short space of time he found himself thinking of her as more than a friend, but he realized that his timing couldn’t have been worse. She was in the midst of a personal crisis, and he certainly didn’t want to add to her burden.

  The door to Wallace’s room stood open. The silver-haired patriarch of the Hamilton family was sitting up in bed. Once a dynamic and active man, Wallace’s illness had taken its toll. Today, he looked much older than his fifty-nine years. His normally tanned complexion held a sallow color that clashed with the navy-blue silk pajamas he wore. An IV pole on the far side of the bed held a unit of blood that dripped slowly into the catheter in his left arm. Richard knocked softly.

  Wallace looked toward the door and his face brightened. “Richard, what are you doing here? Come in.”

  “I just stopped by to see if you were up to a round of golf?”

  “I’d take you up on the offer if it weren’t for this blasted contraption they’ve got hooked to me. They stick needles in me to draw blood for tests and then the tests tell them I need more blood. If they’d leave what I’ve got in me, I wouldn’t need this stuff.”

  Richard sat in the green vinyl recliner beside the bed and loosened his tie with one hand. It was obvious Wallace wasn’t having one of his good days.

  “Are you here to tell me Tim has run the company into the ground?”

  Shaking his head, Richard said, “Tim is doing a fine job with the company. You can rest easy about that.”

  “Rest is all I get to do. But try spending a few months in this place and you’ll find they never let you rest easy. Some fool nurse is always coming in to check my temperature. Who cares at one o’clock in the morning?”

  “Maybe I should come back another time.”

  “No, don’t go. I’m cranky and sick and tired of being here. I thought once I licked the leukemia with this bone marrow transplant I’d be up and around in no time. I never expected a little fungus to lay me low.”

  “A fungal infection is a very serious complication, Wallace. You have to give the drugs time to work.”

  “That’s what Dr. Strickland tells me.”

  “You should listen to him.”

  “I know, I know. Now you sound like Nora. If you didn’t come to listen to me complain, why are you here?”

  “Can’t I come to visit an old friend?”

  “Not with that worried frown making a crease between your eyes. What’s on your mind? Out with it.”

  “I’ve come about Melissa.”

  “What’s that ungrateful daughter of mine done now? Her mother told me she was back in town.”

  “I don’t think Melissa is ungrateful, Wallace. I think she’s simply struggling to find herself.”

  “That’s a euphemism for flighty if I’ve ever heard one. She hasn’t come to see me, you know. Not once since I’ve been in here. Wouldn’t you call that ungrateful?” While he tried to hide it with his gruff words, Richard could see Wallace was truly wounded by the fact that his daughter hadn’t visited.

  “I don’t know where we went wrong with that child. I tell you, this last stunt was the icing on the cake—taking off with that low-life boyfriend of hers. It won’t take much more to make me wash my hands of her for good.”

  Richard chose his next words carefully. It was apparent that Wallace was working himself into a state. “Melissa is trying to turn her life around. She’s back working at the paper and she’s helping my sister with her girls. It isn’t easy for her, but she’s trying.”

  Wallace scowled at him. “You seem to know a lot more about what my daughter is up to than I do.”

  “I’m afraid that’s true. She was wanting a place to stay and I offered her a room at my place. Before you go off the deep end, I want to make it clear that Angela, Dave and the girls are there as chaperones. Melissa is earning her room and board—it isn’t charity. She wants to make it on her own, without your help.”

  “If she hates being a Hamilton so much, let her see how hard it is to earn a living without her old man’s money to fall back on or to bail her out when she gets in debt. She can mooch off you, I don’t care. But mark my words, when you least expect it, she’ll take off with some new boyfriend without so much as a note.”

  “I don’t think that’s going to happen. I think she really is determined to start over.”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  “All right. I wanted you to know she was staying someplace safe and for you not to worry.”

  “She should be with her mother. There’s the person who worries about her. If you want to help Melissa, convince her to go home.”

  “I’ve tried. The problem is, she’s as stubborn as her old man.”

  “Humph!” For a second, Richard thought he saw a flicker of pride in her father’s eyes, but just as quickly it was gone.

  Rising to his feet, Richard laid a hand on Wallace’s shoulder. “I’ve got to get into the office. Margaret will have the police looking for me if I’m late. It was good seeing you, sir. I look forward to the day when I can beat you soundly in a good round of golf.”

  “Beat me? That’ll be the day. You’d better get some practice in while I’m laid up.”

  “I have been. I went four under par at Lark Meadows two weeks ago.”

  “Brag when you’ve beaten my six under par.”

  “You’d better believe I will. Take care, sir.”

  As he reached the door, Wallace called out, “Richard?”

  He paused and looked back. “Yes?”

  “Keep an eye on her for me.”

  “I will, sir. Goodbye.”

  After spending the rest of the day in a fruitless attempt to work, Richard gave in and sent his secretary home early. The unexpected time off surprised Margaret so much that she offered to make an appointment with his doctor right away. She was sure he must be coming down with something. He was, but it wasn’t anything his doctor could fix. He was coming down with a case of severe infatuation with Melissa Hamilton.

  When his secretary was gone, Richard turned in his chair to face the window and looked out over the treetops in the park across the street. From here, he could just make out the flag fluttering in the breeze on the other side of Sugar Tree Park at the town’s elementary school. Sitting on the low wall by the flagpole was the last place he had expected to find himself struggling against the desire to kiss one wayward young woman.

  It had been a long time since he had found himself this attracted to someone. Only Melissa wasn’t just any woman. For one thing, she was his client. That alone made any relationship with her a violation of his professional ethics, only it seemed that knowing she was off-limits and getting her out of his mind were two entirely different problems. If only he could put his finger on what it was about her that intrigued him.

  He was used to looking at a problem from all angles, locating the best way to solve it and then presenting a sound case to his clients. Melissa didn’t fit into any of the categories he normally assigned the women in his life. His feelings for her were much too strong to dismiss as friendship, but he certainly couldn’t be falling in love with her.

  The idea was ridiculous. She was too young, for one thing. She wasn’t committed to her faith or to serving her community. She was carrying another man’s child. What he should feel was pity. It was painfully obvious that she was adrift in life, but pity wasn’t what stirred his heart when she was near. What stirred his heart was the flowerlike scent of her hair, and the humor that sparkled in the depths of
her eyes whenever she made light of her troubles. It was the conviction in her voice when she spoke about starting her life over. It was the kindness and joy she shared so easily with his family.

  Face it, man, it’s everything about her.

  He disliked the idea that he wasn’t in control of his own emotions. He might have been able to keep on believing he was—until last night. Last night, when she had taken his unhealthy dinner from him and given him her salad instead, she had touched his heart. She cared about him.

  The hard truth was that he just might be falling in love. The only question that remained unanswered was, what should he do about it?

  The answer was clear, even if he didn’t like it. There was nothing to be done. Melissa was off-limits as long as she was staying under his roof and as long as he was her attorney.

  Later that night, after dinner was finished and the girls had gone to bed, Richard walked into the family room and found Melissa reading. “Could I speak to you for a few minutes?”

  She put down the medical encyclopedia she held. “Sure. What’s up?”

  “This discussion might be better in my office.”

  “Sounds like I’m in trouble.”

  “Not at all. Come on. I keep a stash of jelly beans in there. I’ll share, but don’t tell the girls.”

  “Are those on your diet?”

  “Yup. Zero fat.”

  “I’ll have to look that up. I’ve been researching what kinds of food you should have. Diet and exercise may not be enough. Sometimes you have to take cholesterol-lowering drugs.”

  “Yes, my doctor discussed that with me.”

  “Good.” She rose and headed down the hall to his study.

  He followed her inside and took a seat in one of the dark brown leather wingback chairs that flanked a small brick fireplace. The gentle glow from the burning gas logs in the arched hearth added a homey touch to the room. Paneled in dark wood with built-in floor-to-ceiling bookshelves across one wall, the room was his favorite spot in the house. Since Angela and her family had moved in, he used it more as a quiet place to retreat and read or listen to music rather than a place to work.

  “So what did you want to talk to me about?”

  Was it his imagination, or did she seem uneasy with his company tonight?

  “A couple of things. First, my friend who runs the adoption agency has made an OB appointment for you.” He pulled a card from his pocket and handed it to her.

  “All right. What else?”

  “I went to see your father today.”

  “You didn’t tell him I was pregnant, did you?”

  He sought to calm her sudden alarm. “Of course not. I merely told him that you were living here.”

  She looked down and rubbed her palms on the fabric of her cream-colored corduroy pants. She wore a loose blouse with thin green stripes that reminded him of fresh mint.

  “How is Daddy?”

  “Tired. Cranky. He was getting another transfusion.”

  She looked up and he saw deep concern in her eyes. “I thought his leukemia was under control.”

  “This infection he’s fighting has weakened his system.”

  “But he’s going to be all right, isn’t he?”

  “The doctors are doing everything they can. Melissa, you should go see him.”

  “I know. I will. When I’m ready.”

  “Ready for what?”

  She sprang to her feet and faced the fire, holding her hands to the warmth. “You know how he is. Nothing I do or say is going to be good enough to please him. He already thinks my life is one big effort to spite him. He’ll be sure of that when I tell him about my pregnancy.”

  “Your father loves you.”

  She gave him a wry smile over her shoulder. “Yeah, but he doesn’t like me much.”

  “You need to give him a chance to see that you’ve changed.”

  “Have I?”

  “I think you have. I see a much more mature woman than the one I knew five months ago.”

  “Finding yourself broke, pregnant and alone in a strange city can do that.” She turned to face him. “I am trying to make the right choices now, but I know what will happen when I see Daddy. He’ll make me feel lower than the dust under the rug without even trying. He’ll give me that look, and I’ll know that no matter what I say or do, he’s already disappointed. He’ll make me want to cut and run. I’m not strong enough to see him yet.”

  “I think you are.”

  She turned back to the fire, crossing her arms in front of her. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I’m a yellow-bellied coward. I need more time.”

  “You’re harder on yourself than anyone else will be.”

  “Know why?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’ve tried a thousand times to be the daughter he wants and I’ve failed a thousand times. After a record like that, a person quits trying. Then quitting gets easier and easier.”

  “Have you considered the fact that you failed because you can’t do it alone?”

  “Is this the part where you tell me God can help?” she scoffed.

  “If you never forgive yourself for failing, Melissa, how will you allow others to forgive you?”

  She gave him a hard stare over her shoulder. “What do you mean?”

  “‘Love thy neighbor as thyself’ is a two-way street. You have to love yourself in order to love others. When you realize that, you will find the strength you need.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to mock your beliefs, Richard.”

  “My beliefs can’t be altered by anyone’s mockery. They go too deep for that.”

  She returned to her chair, sitting on the edge as she leaned toward him with her elbows propped on her knees and her hands clasped before her. “How did you find such faith?”

  “How did you lose yours? You used to go to church with your family. I remember seeing you there.”

  “You’re right. I went to church when I was younger. I believed. But I didn’t turn my back on God. He turned His back on me.”

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “I don’t feel like talking about this. Please, excuse me.” She rose from her chair and started for the door, but Richard stopped her with a hand on her arm.

  “Don’t run away.”

  “Didn’t you know? It’s what I do best.” Her sarcasm didn’t quite cover the pain in her voice.

  “But it’s not what you want to do. Talking can help. Honestly.”

  She hesitated, and he was afraid she would leave. He wanted to help her, to understand her.

  With a ragged sigh, she nodded. He dropped his hands and shoved them in the front pockets of his jeans. Mainly because he wanted to wrap them around Melissa and hold her close. He wanted to offer her the comfort of his embrace, but he sensed she didn’t need that now. She needed to find a way to tell her story in her own words.

  She moved again to stand in front of the fireplace with her arms crossed as if huddling against the cold—or against her memories. “You remember Jennifer Wilson, don’t you?”

  “Of course. She was a neighbor of yours.”

  “She was more than my next-door neighbor. Jenny was my best friend from the time I could walk. We were inseparable. I was closer to her than to any of my sisters, even.”

  “She died several years ago, am I correct?”

  Melissa nodded. Looking into the flames, she could almost see Jenny’s bright smile, almost hear her laughter. “She became sick when we were juniors in high school, non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. From its name, you would think it’s better than having Hodgkins, but it isn’t. It’s worse.”

  “That must have been a sad time for you.”

  A shiver ran up her spine. It had been much more than a sad time. Even now, it was difficult to put into words the way she felt back then.

  “From the day Jenny was diagnosed, we never did anything together again. She had chemo and radiation. She took drugs that made her hair fall out. They were suppo
sed to help her, but they didn’t. She threw up all the time and lost weight. Each day I saw her slipping further away. I never understood why it happened to her and not to me. We shared everything. We had the chicken pox at the same time. If one of us had a cold, the other was sure to get it, too.”

  “It’s normal to feel guilty about being well when someone you love is sick.”

  “There’s nothing normal about a sixteen-year-old girl wasting away in front of your eyes because her own body has decided to kill her.”

  “Is that when you lost faith in God?”

  “What kind of God does such a horrible thing? I prayed for Jenny. I got down on my knees every night and I prayed for her to get well. I prayed and God turned a deaf ear.” She didn’t want to talk about this anymore. Why was he probing into old wounds? What did he want from her?

  “Just because your prayer wasn’t answered the way you wanted, it doesn’t mean God wasn’t listening.”

  “Oh, I know He wasn’t listening. I was with Jenny the day she died. I was holding her hand. Her parents had been with her for hours. They’d just stepped out to talk to the doctor. Suddenly, she started gasping for breath. I found out later that her lungs were filling with blood. She squeezed my hand and begged me not to let go. She begged me not to let her die. She was so afraid.”

  “You mustn’t blame yourself. You didn’t have the power to save her.”

  “No, but God could have.”

  “No one can know God’s plan for each of us, Melissa.”

  “Maybe I didn’t pray hard enough.”

  “None of what happened was your fault.”

  “I know that now, but when I was sixteen and Jenny died in front of me, the world stopped making sense. Nothing was right after that. I mean, what was the point of going to school if you might wake up one day and find out it’s your last?”

  “I’m sorry for your loss, Melissa, but blaming God instead of seeking His comfort won’t help you heal.”

  The smile she managed was brittle. “I’m healed. Time heals all things. And I did it without God.”

 

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