Prodigal Daughter

by Patricia Davids

  Unable to concentrate on the files that needed sorting, Melissa picked up the phone and rang Amy’s office. When her sister picked up, Melissa jumped in with her question.

  “Amy, this is Melissa. You mentioned someone here had recently adopted a baby with Richard’s help. Can you tell me who it is?”

  “Of course. It’s Karen Umber in advertising. She said she would be happy to talk with you anytime. How have you been?”

  “I’ve been good. Things are settling down. I don’t feel quite as unsettled as I did when I first came home. Richard and his family have made me feel welcome. You know, I’ve never been responsible for anyone but myself. It has been an eye-opener trying to keep tabs on two active girls.”

  “Sounds like it has been good for you.”

  “You’re right. It has.”

  After talking to her sister for a few more minutes, Melissa hung up and rang Karen Umber’s office. She got the voice mail. She left a brief message. It was barely five minutes later when her phone rang.

  “Melissa, this is Karen. I’m sorry I missed your call, but I was on the phone with a new client. What can I do for you?”

  “Thanks for ringing back so quickly. I know my sister told you that I’m thinking of adoption. Would you have a few minutes to answer some questions?”

  “Of course. You can come to my office now, if you like.”

  “That would be great.”

  A few minutes later, Melissa entered one of the many small offices at the Dispatch. The room was narrow and crowded with an enormous desk overflowing with stacks of papers. Several large framed photos of a grinning baby boy decorated the top of a large filing cabinet.

  Karen, a short, plump woman in her early thirties dressed neatly in a tailored plum suit, rose from behind the desk. “Melissa, I’m so glad you’ve come. I’m always happy to show off Gavin’s pictures and to brag about him. Please, sit down.”

  Melissa sat in a straight-back chair beside the desk. “Thank you for seeing me.”

  “Certainly. First, let me tell you how brave and selfless you are to be thinking about adoption. For those of us who can’t have children, women like you are a blessing I can’t begin to describe. Now, this is my boy.” She handed Melissa a small photo album. Together they looked through the pictures with Karen pointing out her favorites.

  “Your son is beautiful,” Melissa said when she closed the book.

  “Thanks. What questions can I answer for you?”

  “I have so many. I don’t know where to start.”

  “Of course. Let me tell you a little bit about my experience. My husband and I tried for six years without success to have children. About four years ago we began to look into adoption. Richard and I belong to the same church and when he heard we were thinking along those lines, he put us in touch with his friend who owns an adoption agency.”

  “Did you have to wait a long time?”

  “No, we were blessed. We were chosen by a young woman about eighteen months after we got on the list.”

  “Does she see Gavin?”

  “Yes. She has been to see him three times in the past year.”

  “Isn’t that hard?”

  “I’m sure it is for her, but Peggy has such a good outlook. She knows that Gavin is happy and healthy and she also knows that she wasn’t ready to raise a child. She was sixteen. At the time she became pregnant she was living at home. Her mother wasn’t well. Peggy was taking care of her, working and going to school at night. Her life still isn’t easy, but she knows she made the right choice.”

  “Were you in the delivery room?”

  “No, but Peggy allowed us to be in the waiting room. We saw Gavin when he was about an hour old. I tell you, my heart just melted at the sight of that boy. I couldn’t love him more if I tried.”

  “I guess my biggest fear is that my baby will go to someone who isn’t fit to be a parent.”

  “I can understand that. Let me tell you about the kind of screening we had to go through to adopt.”

  “Would you? I think that might help.”

  “Certainly, but I’d like to say one thing and I hope you don’t think this is out of line. Please be sure in your heart that you can go through with this before you choose a couple. I know someone who was chosen twice, but both times the birth mothers backed out and decided to keep their babies. It is devastating to get that news.”

  Thirty minutes later, Melissa left Karen’s office feeling more confident than ever that she was making the right decision. She had it within her power to give someone a child they longed for desperately. If she could find a couple like Karen and her husband, Melissa knew her baby would have a good life. That was what she wanted more than anything.

  Her certainty lasted only a few hours. Late that night, as she lay under the quilt in her bedroom at Richard’s, her doubts began to surface one by one. What was it about the wee hours of the night that made life seem so overwhelming?

  Melissa rolled to her side and flipped her pillow, seeking a cool place for her cheek. Karen Umber’s gratitude for the choice a young girl made was heartfelt and touching, but Melissa wasn’t looking for gratitude.

  She pressed a hand to her tummy. Until the sonogram this morning she had thought of her pregnancy as an unwanted problem. Now, thoughts of her baby filled her with warmth and tenderness.

  “I think I love you,” she whispered in the darkness. “I wish that were enough.”

  What if I kept you?

  What if she did? How could she make it work? Melissa rolled to her other side, pulling the quilt to her chin. Keeping her baby would mean moving back home. It would also mean facing her father’s disapproval day in and day out. What kind of life would that be for a baby?

  Perhaps her mother was right and her father would come around in time. Maybe he would become a loving and cheerful grandfather, the kind every kid deserved. She could see herself working at the paper while her mother watched the baby. Wouldn’t her mother’s housekeeper, Vera Mae, be tickled to have a new baby to help raise?

  Just the thought of Vera Mae’s ample arms holding a baby was enough to make Melissa grin. Someday her daughter would be big enough to beg treats from the housekeeper and to dig into the wide pockets of her oversize apron for the pieces of candy Vera Mae kept stashed there for just that reason.

  Richard would come to visit. He would hold the baby and tell her how pretty she was. He might even go with them when Melissa took the baby out in the stroller. They would look like an ordinary family walking along the path that circled the lake in Sugar Tree Park. He would make a wonderful father for her little girl.

  Melissa’s musings came to an abrupt halt. What was she doing? She was barely out of one foolhardy relationship. How could she be thinking about another? While it was true that she hadn’t loved Dean and that their relationship had been over long before he left her, she had no business thinking about Richard in that way. The dream was tempting—only, it was based on wishful thinking and nothing more.

  She rolled over, determined to get some sleep, but her stomach rumbled loudly. She was hungry again. It seemed that her baby was intent on having a fat mother. She threw back the covers and got out of bed. Pulling her pale blue-and-white embroidered robe over her blue plaid cotton pajamas, Melissa left her room and headed for the kitchen. If she couldn’t sleep, she might as well raid the fridge. Anything was better than lying in bed and dreaming about an impossible life with Richard.

  Determined to think about something else, she walked quickly down the hall and through the dining room. As she rounded the corner into the kitchen, she came face-to-face with the man she couldn’t get out of her mind.

  Chapter Twelve

  Richard nearly dropped his bowl of ice cream when Melissa came barreling into the kitchen and almost into his arms. Her sudden appearance when he had spent the last several hours thinking about nothing but her was unnerving.

  With a squeak, she jumped back and pressed a hand to her throat. “Gracious, Richard, y
ou scared me to death. What are you doing in here?”

  There was no point in telling her that she had invaded his dreams and kept him from sleeping. “I came in for a snack. What are you doing up?”

  “I’m starving and I couldn’t sleep, either. What do you have there?” She rose on tiptoe to peek into his bowl.

  “Two scoops of Double Chocolate Chip Delight.” He moved it away from the hungry glint in her eyes.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” She reached out and plucked the bowl from his hands.

  “Hey, get your own.” He reached for his treat but she turned aside, blocking his move.

  “This is definitely not on your diet. Ice cream is loaded with fat and sugar.”

  He tried reaching around her. “That’s what makes it taste good. Give it here. I’ll run an extra mile in the morning.”

  She moved the bowl behind her back. “You can run an extra mile without the ice cream. It will do you a lot more good. You have to take care of yourself. If you don’t, who will?”

  “You, apparently.”

  “I have to do something to repay you for giving me a place to stay. I’m sure there’s some wonderfully crunchy celery in the fridge.”

  She looked adorable. Without makeup, her hair mussed and her bare toes peeking from beneath the hem of her robe, she seemed even younger than twenty-three. Her grin said she knew she was winning the argument.

  “Give it back, Melissa.”

  “Or what?” She took a step backward as he advanced.

  “Or you may need to find yourself another place to live.”

  “Ha! You wouldn’t dare. Samantha and Lauren would be up in arms, not to mention Aunt Lettie.”

  “Don’t tempt me. Two scoops of Double Chocolate Chip Delight might be worth the pain.”

  She had backed into the counter and could retreat no farther. He loomed before her, his arms crossed as he tried to maintain a stern expression. It wasn’t easy.

  “You leave me no choice. I’ll just have to remove the temptation.” She twisted around and began to spoon ice cream into her mouth.

  “Hey!” He grabbed her shoulders and spun her back to face him. She had a smear of ice cream across her lips. All thought of food left his head. All he wanted was to kiss her.

  Her smile faded as she gazed at him and her eyes darkened. He leaned toward her. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back waiting for him. A breath away from her lips his conscience kicked in.

  Don’t take advantage of her, he chided himself. She’s the daughter of your friend. She’s confused and searching for answers in her life. This may be what you want, but it isn’t what she needs.

  Instead of kissing her, he used his thumb to wipe the cream from her lower lip. Her eyes flew open. He clearly read the confusion in them. She looked away. He wished he could offer some kind of excuse for his behavior, but nothing came to mind.

  “You win, kid,” he said at last. “The ice cream is yours, but don’t expect me to munch celery while I watch you eat it.”

  Her chin came up and she managed a strained smile. “In that case, I’ll take it to my room and eat it there. You won’t get more when I leave, will you?”

  “No. Like I said, you win.”

  She stepped around him, but paused and looked back. “Funny, it doesn’t feel like I won.”

  He had no answer for that.

  Melissa fled to her room. As the ice cream melted untouched in the bowl on her bedside table, she huddled on the bed and buried her face in her hands. She called herself every kind of fool.

  It must have been blatantly obvious that she wanted him to kiss her. For one wonderful moment she thought he was going to. Then nothing—nothing but embarrassment as he tried to make light of her horrible blunder. What must he think of her? Of course he would think she was a loose woman. She had certainly provided him with proof of that by running away with Dean and coming home pregnant and unmarried. How could she face him again?

  She wrapped her arms around her knees and stared at the wall. She didn’t have to face him. She could leave. Her sister, Amy, would take her in.

  Melissa scrambled off the bed and hurried to the closet. From its depths, she pulled out her only piece of luggage. She unzipped it on the bed and turned to the dresser. Pulling open the top drawer, she scooped up handfuls of underwear and dropped them in the suitcase. She yanked open the next drawer with such force that the entire thing came out. Her clothes and the drawer fell to the floor in a heap.

  She looked at the mess, then at herself in the beveled mirror over the dresser. “What am I doing?”

  Sinking cross-legged onto the floor, Melissa threaded her fingers through her hair and cradled her head in her hands. “I’m running away, that’s what I’m doing.”

  If she left here it wouldn’t be to go to Amy’s. She would simply keep on going, stopping someplace new only until things became difficult, then running again. When would she find the courage to stop?

  Now. Tonight.

  What did it matter what Richard thought of her? Okay, it did matter, but the world wouldn’t come to an end because an old, unrequited crush made her act like a flirtatious teenager.

  There was much more at stake here than her wounded pride. Angela and Dave depended on her to help take care of the girls. She had promised to help Samantha with voice lessons. She had a job. She had a baby to think about.

  She righted the dresser drawer beside her and began to replace her clothes. She would face Richard with her chin up and pretend it didn’t matter that he hadn’t kissed her.

  “Besides, it’s his loss,” she declared, feeling a new resolve lift her spirits.

  “So I’m suffering from a little rebound infatuation with the first guy that’s been nice to me since Dean dumped me in Detroit. So what? I’ll get over it. I’m done running away from my mistakes. From now on, I’m going to face them head-on.”

  The next morning, Melissa was already seated at the table in the breakfast nook, looking out the wide bay window at colorful chrysanthemums, pansies and hardy ageratum in the garden, when Angela shuffled in to put on the coffee.

  “You’re up bright and early,” Angela mumbled, covering a yawn with one hand as she spooned grounds into a paper filter.

  “I’m eager to get started on my research about your aunt Lettie and other women reporters of her era.”

  “I think it’s wonderful that you’re trying to bring their contributions to light.”

  “I like research. I like finding old facts that have been overlooked.”

  “I remember that great paper you did for my class on Southern women writers.”

  “Do you? That seems like a lifetime ago.”

  Angela moved to the sink and began filling the pot with water. “Have you thought about going back to school?”

  “I’ve thought about it, but, as sad as this is for Wallace Hamilton’s daughter to say, I can’t afford it.”

  “There are programs to help with cost. You should look into it. We have a new work study program for single parents at the college. One of the professors was saying just the other day that she was hoping to find a research assistant.”

  “I know about the program. I was there when Felicity Simmons interviewed the dean, but you forget, I’m not going to be a single parent for more than a day or two. After that, I’ll be a birth mother with limited visitation.”

  “I’m sorry. This must be hard for you to talk about. I never quite know what to say.”

  “It doesn’t bother me to talk about it. It doesn’t feel real yet. I assume that will change as the time gets closer.”

  “Are you sure that adoption is what you want?” She poured the water into the reservoir and turned the brew cycle on.

  “You can’t imagine it, can you?”

  Angela sent Melissa an embarrassed look over her shoulder. She turned around and stuffed her hands in the pockets of her robe. The gesture reminded Melissa of Richard. He often did the same thing when confronting a difficult situation.


  “Am I that transparent?” Angela managed to look sheepish and apologetic at the same time.

  “A little.”

  “I’m sorry. You’re right. I can’t imagine giving up one of my girls.”

  She held up one hand. “Okay, I will admit that there are days I think about taking them to the pound and exchanging them for a puppy, but in reality, I can’t envision myself without them.”

  She laid her hand over her heart. “They are like the air I breathe. I need them to make me whole.”

  “That’s what I like to believe I will be doing. My baby will make some woman who has been waiting for a child feel whole. At least, I try to think of it like that.” She couldn’t admit the truth out loud. No matter how hard she tried to convince herself that she was doing the right thing, it still didn’t feel as though she was.

  “I admire your courage.”

  “Now, that is one thing I’m sure I don’t have. But I’m working on it.”

  “I think you have far more courage than you know.”

  “Let’s hope you’re right.”

  Their conversation came to a halt as other members of the family began straggling in. Dave came in first. He gave his wife a peck on the cheek.

  “No coffee yet?”

  “Another minute, dear.”

  Close behind Dave was Samantha. “Morning. What’s for breakfast?”

  “Cereal. I don’t have time to cook this morning. I’ve got an early staff meeting.” Angela opened a cupboard and pulled out a box.

  “Cereal again,” Samantha moaned as she plunked down beside Melissa. Lauren came in, looking more than half-asleep, and slipped into a chair. She crossed her arms on the table and laid her head on them.

  “Unless your father wants to cook, yes,” Angela declared, switching her mug to replace the glass pot and filling her husband’s mug from the half-full carafe.

  Lauren muttered, “Don’t give Dad a skillet. He’s so dangerous.”