Chapter 45: Chapter 45
Melody felt a tear in the corner of her eye, but she didn’t brush it away, and despite the sadness, she realized she was smiling. “No one ever calls me that—except for my dad. And you.” He looked surprised, but before he could attempt to apologize, she said, “I really like it when you call me that.”
The crooked grin she found so endearing was back. “Good.”
Melody took a deep breath and let it out. There was more she wanted to say, but she hesitated to do so. Even though this didn’t feel like a first date, it really was one, and she didn’t want to alarm him. At the same time, she thought he needed to know how much he had already helped her make the holidays special again. “There are so many things I’ve done this Christmas that I never thought I’d do again. You and Michael have changed everything for me. You’ve made me see the magic of the season again. And even though things will never be the same for me ever again, at least now I know I can decorate a Christmas tree and have a snowball fight without constantly thinking of only my dad.”
Gently squeezing her hand, Reid said, “I’m not sure what it was that made Michael approach you in the hardware store, but I’m so glad that he did.”
“Me, too,” Melody said, smiling at him. Michael seemed to possess a bit of Christmas magic himself.
Reid cleared his throat and pulled his eyes away from her. “There’s just one thing, Melody, that I think you should consider.”
She leaned forward a bit, having no idea what he might be about to say. “What’s that?”
“Music, Mel,” he said, glancing back up at her. “Do you think you’ll ever…?”
“No,” she said, and though she was tempted to pull her hand back, shocked he’d even mention the subject, she stayed perfectly still.
“I’m sorry,” he said, shrugging. “I don’t want to butt in. It’s not my place. I just… more than one person has mentioned to me what a beautiful voice you have, how talented you are, and I guess I’m just sad that Michael, and I haven’t gotten to hear for ourselves.”
Melody stared at him for a moment, not quite knowing what to say. “Music is something my father and I shared. Without him there… it’s like a song without a beat. Like a bunch of disjointed chords that clash when they come together. I hear music in everything, but none of it sounds like a song.”
She could tell by his expression that he didn’t quite understand, and she couldn’t blame him. How could he? It didn’t even make sense to her when she thought it in her own mind, let alone voicing it aloud. So many people had attempted to get her to sing again these past few years, to play the piano, but she couldn’t. She just couldn’t.
After a long, awkward silence, he cleared his throat again and said, “I hope you find your song again, Melody. I really do. I think you have the ability to touch a lot of people, and even though you don’t need music to do that, I think it’s your gift.”
Melody was at a loss for words. How could someone she’d only known for a few weeks who’d never even heard her sing, seem to know her so well? If he’d been talking to the Melody before her father died, he’d be absolutely spot on. But she wasn’t that girl anymore. She’d known in her heart the moment her father passed away she’d never be that girl again. Now, sitting in a diner, holding the hand of the first man who’d ever truly spoken to her heart, she began to feel something different there. What was that soft, glimmering spark inside of her? Why did she suddenly feel as if she might have been wrong and her song was still alive after all?
Before she could say anything in response, Valerie was back with two heaping portions of chicken fried chicken with mashed potatoes, white gravy, and a huge helping of green beans. “Alrighty,” she said, as Melody and Reid moved their hands so she’d have room on the table. “Here we are. I’ll come back and refill your drinks in a minute. Is there anything else I can get you?”
“I think that will do it. Thank you,” Melody said as Valerie gave them a nod and hustled off to help another table.
“Now, would you say this chicken is fried like a chicken or like a steak?” Reid asked, eyeing the meal he probably didn’t even realize he’d ordered.
Placing a paper napkin in her lap, Melody chuckled. “Definitely chicken.”
“If you say so,” he sighed. “I’m still not sure how you can tell.”
“Just try it. You won’t regret it,” she assured him, cutting hers into small pieces before she finally took a bite. It was just as delicious as it always was.
After Reid’s first bite, he nodded and said, “I have to agree with you there. Y’all sure know how to fry up a chicken like a chicken.”
Melody laughed, secretly praying she didn’t somehow manage to shoot mashed potatoes out her nose at his teasing impression of a Southern accent, and they continued with their meal, the conversation becoming much lighter and carefree. By the time Valerie was back to take their plates and offer some coffee, Melody was too stuffed to order pie, even though it was delicious, and her side hurt from laughing so much.
With the plates gone and so much space on the table, Melody wondered what she might have to do to get Reid to hold her hand again. Since she wasn’t willing to talk about her dad or music anymore, she figured that she’d just have to see if he took her hand later, perhaps on their way to the truck. He was quiet, and Melody wondered what he might be thinking about. There were still so many things she wanted to know, but the most important topic of all seemed so invasive, she wasn’t exactly sure how to approach it or if she even should. Maybe they’d had enough heavy discussion for one night.
Valerie set their coffees down and the check, which Reid grabbed before Melody could even think about reaching for it. He took care of it and Valerie wished them both a nice evening, insisting they holler if they needed anything else.
“Thank you for dinner,” Melody said, with a shy smile.
“Thank you for agreeing to come on a date with me—and Michael. And for everything else.”
Melody raised an eyebrow. “Like what? Having you fix my door knob or set up my Christmas tree?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Picking my son up from school, going Christmas tree hunting with us, helping us decorate our tree. Shall I go on?”
“All of that was fun,” she said shrugging.
“So was fixing your door knob and setting up your Christmas tree,” he said raising his eyebrows and taking a sip of his steaming coffee.
“Well, at any rate, thank you,” she said dismissively.
“You’re welcome,” he replied, setting his mug down. “And by the way, I’m not sure if Michael mentioned this to you, but Santa Claus is going to be at the library tomorrow.”
“What? He is? No, he didn’t mention it at all.”
“I think my sarcasm is growing on you,” he said with a crooked grin. Melody raised and lowered her eyebrows a few times without commenting, which made him chuckle. “So… you wanna go? I promise it will be riveting.”
“Do I wanna go? Yeah, of course I wanna go. Oh, wait you mean with you?” She waited for his mock shocked face to set in, and then she giggled. “I’m just playing. Yes, I’d love to go.”