Prodigal Daughter

“You’re offering me a job?”

“Let’s call it a temporary solution to several problems. My sister needs help and you need a place to stay. It won’t be for more than five or six weeks, but that should give you time to find a place of your own.”

“That’s very kind of you, Richard.”

“This isn’t kindness. It’s a business offer. Unless, of course, you really like sleeping on Amy’s couch. In that case, I’m sure Angela can find someone else to help.”

Melissa gave the cream-colored divan a sour glance. It was pretty, but as a bed, it didn’t quite make the grade. “If you’re sure this is a job and not charity, I accept your offer. When do I start?”

“I could help you move in tomorrow. Would that be too soon?”

“Not at all. Tomorrow will be fine.”

“Good. I think you’ll like the girls. Samantha is twelve and Lauren is eight. They’re old enough that they don’t need a lot of supervision, but they’re still too young to leave alone for any length of time.”

Something in his voice made her question him further. “I get the feeling there is something you aren’t telling me.”

“The girls have had some trouble adjusting since the fire, especially Samantha. Usually she is as happy as a lark, but since the fire, she has been unhappy and withdrawn. I’m hoping that having someone new in the house will help take her mind off of things.”

“I’m sure we’ll get along. I come from a big family, remember?”

“I remember. I’ll pick you up tomorrow afternoon. What time works for you?”

“I think I can have my duffel bag packed by four.”

“So, I won’t need to rent a moving van?”

“No, not this time.”

“Great. My back was aching at the thought.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She chuckled as she hung up the phone. In spite of her current situation, Richard always seemed to make her smile. But then, he always had been able to make her laugh.

Melissa pulled open the glass door to Betty’s Bakeshoppe a few minutes before two that afternoon and was instantly surrounded by the mouthwatering smells of cinnamon rolls, aromatic coffee and baked apples. The shop was more than a coffee house. Over the past twenty years Betty and her daughters had expanded the bakery into a restaurant area and had added a small used bookstore at one end. Betty’s Bakeshoppe now took up three connecting shops along the downtown street. But it was Betty’s excellent cooking and the convenient location across from the Hamilton Media building that made it a prime meeting place for employees and downtown business people.

Looking around, Melissa saw several faces she recognized from the paper. The Saturday-afternoon lunch crowd was long gone, but there were still a few customers lingering over their desserts. She spied her mother seated at a table by the window in the corner, where shelves made a partial wall between the eatery and the bookstore.

A petite woman, Nora Hamilton might have been mistaken for one of her own children if not for the strands of silver in her shoulder-length blond hair. She was dressed simply in a belted red dress with a wide white collar and white trim on the short sleeves.

Nora’s face brightened when she caught sight of her daughter, but not before Melissa noticed how tired her mother looked. Guilt gnawed at Melissa’s conscience. She was responsible for adding to her mother’s already heavy worries.

Threading her way between the tables, Melissa watched her mother rise. An instant later she found herself gathered in a warm embrace, one she returned fiercely as a tear slipped from the corner of her eye. She had missed her family more than she realized.

Nora was the first to draw back. “I’m so glad you came. Let me look at you.”

“Mom, I’m fine.” Melissa wiped the tear from her cheek with the back of her hand and submitted to her mother’s scrutiny.

“I believe it now that I see you with my own eyes. You had us all worried.”

They took their seats and Melissa glanced around the room to avoid looking at her mother. Embarrassment made the sudden silence painful. Instead of talking about herself, she sought a neutral subject. “I’ve always liked coming to the Bakeshoppe.”

“I remember how you would beg your father to meet us here for lunch when you were little.”

“I thought it was the coolest place. I’d never been to any other store where the drapes were painted on the windows. I see they still have that rug painted on the old wood floor in front of the cash register.”

“Remember how you used to stand on it and hop on and off? You told me you could make it fly.”

“Mom, I think I must have been four then.”

Nora smiled softly as she looked back in time. “It always made your father chuckle. Time goes by too fast.”

“Then I grew up and made Dad mad all the time.”

“Not all the time, dear.”

“More times than not.”

“You went through a very difficult time after Jennifer died. We knew that but we couldn’t seem to help you.”

Talking about Jennifer was the last thing Melissa wanted to do. Fortunately, Justine, Betty’s daughter, came up to the table with her order pad in hand. “Mrs. Hamilton, it’s nice to see you. How is Mr. Hamilton? We’ve been keeping him in our prayers.”

“He’s doing better, Justine. Thank you for asking.” Nora glanced toward the kitchen. “Is your mother here?”

“No, she had to leave early today. Melissa, I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I’ve been out of town, but I’m back now.”

“What can I get for you ladies? Our special today is apple pie.”

After ordering a slice of pie and a cup of tea, Melissa waited until Justine served them and then moved away. Before she could decide how to bring up the subject that hung in the air between them like an elephant in the middle of the room, her mother reached across the table and laid a hand on Melissa’s arm.

“I want you to know that I understand what you’re feeling, Melissa. I faced the same thing when I was pregnant with Jeremy.”

“I couldn’t believe it when Amy told me Jeremy wasn’t Dad’s son. How? I mean, who was his father?”

“His name was Paul Anderson and we were engaged to be married. We were young and careless. We were in love, and we thought nothing else mattered. Then he died in a motorcycle accident. I didn’t even know I was pregnant. A few months later, I met your father.”

“Did he know?”

“Not at first. It took a lot of courage to tell him, but I knew it was the right thing to do.”

Melissa wanted to ask her mother another question, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer. She picked up her spoon and began to stir her tea, but couldn’t contain her troubling thoughts. “Was that the only reason you married Daddy? For the sake of the baby?”

“Melissa, look at me,” Nora said softly.

Melissa raised her eyes and met her mother’s unflinching gaze.

“I fell deeply in love with your father, and I have thanked God every day of my life that He sent Wallace to me. Never doubt that.”

Melissa had always believed her parents loved each other. It was good to know that that part of her life hadn’t been a sham. She looked down at her teacup again. “Did you ever think about giving Jeremy up for adoption?”

“Of course I thought about it. I prayed about it, and I wavered back and forth, but in the end I knew it wasn’t what God wanted for me. Are you thinking about adoption?”

“Yes. I’ve already spoken to Richard McNeil. He is going to help me find a family. In a way, it’s a relief to have finally made a decision.” Melissa forked a bite of sweet, tart apples and featherlight crust into her mouth.

Nora’s eyes filled with sadness. “I can’t tell you what to do, sweetheart, but please give this a lot of thought and prayer. God has a plan for all of us, even if we can’t see it. It would be hard to raise a child alone, but I would help all I could. I know your father will feel the same way. This is, after all, our first grandchild.”

It was hard for Melissa to swallow her food past the lump that pushed up in her throat. “I’m sorry, but I’m not like you. I don’t have what it takes to be a mother. I don’t have patience or good sense. This child will be better off with someone who wants a kid. Besides, I’m not so sure that Daddy will want anything to do with this baby.”

“You’re judging him harshly, Melissa. It will be a shock for him, but he’ll come around. You’ll see.”

“You always believe the best of people.”

“And I’m rarely disappointed. What about the baby’s father? Will he help?”

Melissa pushed her pie aside. “He doesn’t want either of us. We didn’t fit into his big plans.”

“I wish I could ease your heartache, Melissa. Things look bleak now, but God heals all wounds. Have faith, honey, and give it some time.”

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