Reid was quiet, and Melody thought maybe she’d overstepped. He’d joked before about her wanting to kidnap his son—did he think now maybe she had lost her mind? Had she? “Do you really want to do that?”
“Yes, I do,” she said. “I’m sorry if that sounds crazy, Reid. But there’s just something about Michael that lifts my spirit. I can’t quite explain it to you, but moving back here has been so difficult on me. When I lived in Chicago, I had distractions. I could sit in my apartment and pretend that my dad was at home with my mom, watching TV or playing the piano. Of course, I didn’t do that because that really would be nuts—but the option was there. I wasn’t constantly reminded that he was gone. Now that I’m back here, I’m bombarded with the scents and sounds I associate with him. I can’t walk down the stairs without thinking I’ll see him standing by the picture window looking outside the way he used to each morning, sipping his coffee. I fall asleep at night expecting to hear him playing the piano. At least, now that you and Michael are in my life, I have something else to think about. Now, whenever the snow begins to fall, I’ll still have the wonderful memories of making a snowman with my dad, but I’ll also have the memories of our snowball fight, of watching Michael chase snowflakes and catch them on his tongue. Does any of that make any sense to you at all—or do you just think I’m crazy?” She took a deep breath and wondered if she’d even been forming coherent sentences.
His answer came more quickly than she had expected. “It makes perfect sense, Mel. And, no, I don’t think you’re crazy. I’m not sure what it is that drew you and Mikey together, but I’ve never seen him take to anyone the way he takes to you.”
“I never paid much attention to children at all, if I’m honest,” Melody replied. “I mean, I’d taught a few Sunday school lessons and volunteered in the nursery when they were short handed. But I wasn’t even thinking about the possibility of….” She paused, thinking she might completely freak him out if she finished the sentence in her head.
“Of having your own kids?” he asked.
“Yes,” she admitted.
“You should. You should think about it, because you’ll be really good at it.”
She couldn’t remember anyone ever saying that to her before, but now that she had a glimpse into what it really required to be a good mother, she thought it was one of the nicest compliments she’d ever received. “Thank you.”
“Well, we’ve got a couple of weeks of Christmas vacation to talk about it and see if that’s what you really want to do, and if it is, you know I would love for Michael to spend his afternoons with you. Are you sure it won’t interfere with your work?”
“I’ve got most of the rooms cleared out now and am working on getting the rest of the stuff to the antique store, so most of what I’m doing is online. I can’t imagine it would interfere with any of that.”
“And is that what you’re planning to do? Stay here and do marketing?”
It was a legitimate question and one she’d been struggling with for months, even before she moved here. “That’s something I’ve given a lot of thought to recently,” she replied. “When I originally moved back, I thought I’d get my mom straightened out and maybe move to Washington, D.C. or Richmond to find another marketing job. But my mom never wanted to be an antique dealer, and while she’s good at it, this was my dad’s dream. I know now I can’t leave my mom to handle all of this on her own. So I’ll definitely be staying here for the foreseeable future, depending upon a few things--how sales at the store continue to improve, how much freelance marketing work I can find, whether or not a certain handsome fellow continues to fancy me.”
“Michael?”
She giggled. “Precisely.”
“There’s no doubt that will continue,” he assured her.
“Then I guess I’ll still be living in Charles Town when I am Mrs. Watson’s age.”
“Well, don’t be asking me to put up your Christmas lights because something tells me by then I will not be scampering up any ladders.”
Melody laughed, the thought of them growing old together making her heart happy. “Michael can do it.”
“He’ll be in a nursing home, remember?’
“Oh, that’s right,” she said, still giggling.
“I think I was going to let you go quite some time ago.”
“My fault. I brought up a lengthy subject. But hey, have fun at the party tomorrow. Did you bake cookies?”
“Are you kidding? Do you think the children want trips to the emergency room for stomach pumps for Christmas? No, Mrs. Gregory made them for Michael.”
“That’s so nice. She’s so sweet,” Melody said, thinking she should stop mentally calling Mrs. Gregory nosey.
“You could come with us,” Reid offered.
Melody thought about it for a second and then remembered how the school staff already seemed confused about how she related to Michael. “As much fun as it sounds spending time in a classroom full of sugared-up five year olds, I think I’ll leave this one to you. But thanks anyway.”
“You’re going to wish you’d said yes when I start texting you pictures of what you’re missing out on.”
“I’m sure Michael will fill me in at the parade.”
“And for three weeks after the parade.”
“Ha! True. Have a good night, Reid.” She didn’t want to hang up, but she knew if she didn’t do it now, she’d find reason after reason to stay on the phone with him for the rest of the night.
“You, too, Mel. See you tomorrow. Bye.”
“Bye.” She cradled her phone for a moment before she finally plugged it into the charger on her nightstand. She knew it would be hard to sleep that night because she could hardly believe she actually had a real date with Reid the next day—even if her mom and Michael would also be there. Still, she hadn’t been this excited about anything for as long as she could remember, and she was glad she’d be able to sleep for as long as she wanted to in the morning because she had a feeling she’d be up half the night thinking about those beautiful blue eyes.