Bishop’s Diner was just a block or two off of the main drag downtown, and even though it was crowded with other people who had the same idea to stop by after the parade, Melody and Reid were able to get a booth. The waitress, a woman Melody had gone to school with named Valerie, was nice, though her usual chattiness was curtailed by the crowd, and she’d hustled off to get their drinks while Melody pretended to look at the menu though she was really paying much more attention to Reid than what was printed on the laminated paper in front of her.
“So what’s good here?” he asked, flipping it over a few times before setting it down and locking eyes with her.
Melody felt her cheeks warm and glanced down at the menu. “The chicken fried chicken is good. That’s what I usually get. Most everything is pretty good.”
“Chicken fried chicken,” Reid mused, steepling his fingers in front of his face. “I wonder where that name came from. Some waiter a long time ago with a sarcastic customer. ‘How would you like your chicken fried, sir?’ ‘Like chicken.’”
Giggling, Melody said, “I don’t know. I’ve wondered about that before, too. But then there’s chicken fried steak, so maybe that came first and somebody was trying to insinuate that chicken fried chicken is fried like chicken fried steak and not like regular fried chicken.”
“I think you lost me there. If I’m going to live in the South, I guess I need to figure out all these unusual terms and dishes.”
“Unusual?” Melody scoffed. “Like what?”
“Like when you hear someone order a Coke and the waitress asks what kind, and she doesn’t just mean do you want diet or regular; she’s clarifying as to whether they actually want Coke or Pepsi, or whatever else might be available.”
“So you mean how some people say Coke instead of soda or pop?”
“Exactly. But that’s just one example. I could go on and on. It’s like a whole ‘nother country.”
Melody laughed. “I think that’s Texas.”
“What’s that?” Reid asked, his forehead crinkling.
Realizing he must not be familiar with Texas’s tourism slogan, she just shook her head. “Never mind. Baby steps. You’ll be a true Southerner before you know it. I mean, as close as you can get in West Virginia. This isn’t exactly Georgia, you know.”
“Southern enough for me,” Reid replied, glancing back down at the menu.
“True,” Melody nodded. She’d always felt a lot more Southern than anyone else she knew in Chicago.
Before she could comment further, Valerie was back, a smile on her face and her blonde, curly bob swinging as she came to a stop. She set their drinks on the table. “Sorry about that. We are swamped. How was the parade?”
“Wonderful,” Melody said, beaming. “They really outdid themselves this year.”
“Good. Aww, I’m so sad I missed it.” Valerie let out a sigh, and then shaking her head, she said, “Maybe next year. Alrighty, what can I get you, Melody? Your usual?”
“Yes, please,” Melody said, glad that Valerie knew her well enough to take her order without having to rattle it off.
Valerie took a few notes on her pad and then turned to Reid. “And what can I get you, sweetie?”
Melody tried to hide her smile as she saw Reid’s eyes grow slightly larger at the compliment. “I’ll have the same,” he said, handing her their menus.
“Alrighty,” Valerie repeated. “I’ll get it out as quick as I can. Let me know if you need anything.”
Once she was out of earshot, Melody started laughing. “It’s a Southern thing. You wouldn’t understand,” she said.
He cracked a grin. “Oh, is it? I’ll have you know, I am actually a sweetie. Valerie knows me better than you think.”
“You’ve never met her before,” she said, calling his bluff.
“That might be true, but she’s quite intuitive.”
She giggled and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I would have to agree there may have been a little interest there. But Valerie and I have been friends for a long time, and I don’t think she’d hit on you while we are here together.”
Reid leaned in closer. “So what you’re saying is I should come back alone?” Melody’s mouth gaped open, and he began to laugh. “You know I’m just kidding.”
“Hey, if you like her, then maybe you should.” She hoped he knew that she was teasing.
“Nope. Not interested,” he replied, no longer laughing. “I meant to tell you, you look beautiful tonight. That sweater really makes your eyes sparkle.”
Melody felt the red rising in her cheeks. “Thank you,” she said. Feeling a bit bold, she added, “Blue always looks good on you, too.”
Reid glanced down at his sweater as if he couldn’t remember what he had on. “Oh, yeah. Well, I was going to go with the red, but I thought red eyes might be a bit more appropriate for a Halloween parade.”
“Probably so,” Melody laughed, taking a sip of her iced tea. “Do you think Michael had fun?”
“I know he did,” Reid replied. “And he’s going to talk your mom’s ear off. It was really nice of her to volunteer to take him.”
“It was,” Melody agreed, running her fingers through the condensation from her glass. “She’s really good with kids.”
“So are you,” Reid replied.
“Nah, just Michael,” Melody said, shaking her head. “He’s a special little boy.”
“Yes, he is.” Reid ran his hand through his hair. “Did you have fun?”
“I did,” Melody replied with a nod. “The parade really was great this year. They added a lot more floats. I couldn’t believe how many people were there.”
“It was crowded, but it’s nice to see so many people enjoying themselves, spending time with their families.”
The mention of spending time with family at the parade made Melody think of her dad, and she felt her face fall a bit. Hoping Reid wouldn’t notice, she took another sip of her drink.
Clearly, he did notice. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say anything….”
She cut him off. “No, it’s fine. It’s… fine.”
“You probably have a lot of memories of your dad at the parade, huh?” he asked quietly.
Nodding, Melody said, “Yes, I do.” She meant to cut her words off then, but whether it was her tendency to ramble or the fact that his blue eyes were watching her so intently, she continued to speak. “I lost my dad the Christmas Eve before last, so of course, that year was awful. Nothing was as it should be. And then, last year, I didn’t even bother to go to the parade. I tried to go to the festival, but I ended up running out after just a few songs. It was just so hard to sit there, surrounded by the things he loved, at the time of year he held most sacred, and know he wasn’t there—that none of those moments we shared would ever come around again.”
Reid was quiet, listening to each word and seeming to contemplate a fitting answer. She knew there was nothing he could say to comfort her, though. So many people had tried over these past two years, but no one was capable of saying words that did not exist. He reached across the table, and she realized he wanted her hand, which she gave to him. He took her hand in both of his, and this time, rather than the electric tingles she was used to, she felt warmth radiating from him. Though his hands were rough from years of work, his touch was soft and comforting. With a single touch, he was able to convey the message so many others had tried and failed to speak.
Eventually, he said softly, “I’m so sorry, Mel.”