Prodigal Daughter. Patricia Davids
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She stared at her sister in shock. “Heather and Chris? No way. To whom?”
“Heather is engaged to Ethan Danes.”
“I know you said Ethan on the phone, but do you mean she landed that hunky photographer at the magazine? How did that happen? Heather is so shy, she practically blends into the wallpaper.”
“Not anymore. She received an amazing makeover the same day Ellen Manning, the magazine’s now ex-makeover expert, took off for greener pastures. You wouldn’t believe the change in Heather. She has really come out of her shell. I know it wasn’t easy for her, growing up between us.”
“Between the homecoming queen and the drama queen, you mean?”
Amy chuckled. “Something like that. Heather isn’t as outgoing as you or I, but she has a heart of gold. That’s what Ethan fell in love with, not her new look.”
“And Chris?”
“That is a slightly longer story. I don’t know if you remember the woman reporter the paper hired a few months before you left, Felicity Simmons?”
“Is she the one with long, red hair?”
“That’s her. She was working on a story about political corruption when she began receiving threats. At first she blew it off, but it soon became apparent that she had a stalker.”
“Let me guess. Brother Chris rides in on a white horse and saves the damsel in distress.”
“I think it was his police cruiser, not a horse, but you’ve got the picture. It turns out that an aide to Mayor Whitmore had been taking payoffs from a local developer in a land scheme. When Felicity got too close to the truth, he tried to scare her away. When that didn’t work, he tried to kidnap her.”
“Such wild goings-on in peaceful old Davis Landing. Who would have thought it? Is anyone else in the family getting married?”
“Not at the moment, but Tim is dating Dawn Leroux.”
“His administrative assistant?”
“That’s right. I think Mom is hearing more wedding bells, but there hasn’t been anything official. Enough about our siblings. I want to talk about you.”
“There isn’t much to talk about. I messed up again, only this time in a big way.”
“Tell me what happened. You weren’t making a lot of sense when you called.”
“I know. By the way, thanks for wiring me the money. I don’t know what I would have done otherwise. It meant a lot to me. I wasn’t sure anyone would want me back after this last stunt.”
“Of course we want you here. We’re your family. We love you. I told everyone you had called and they were all glad you were okay.”
Melissa looked at her sister in sudden panic. “You didn’t tell them I was pregnant, did you?”
“Of course not. You asked me not to say anything and I didn’t. But you should go see Mom, at least.”
“I will. In a day or two.”
“Good. Now, tell me about Dean.”
Tears stung Melissa’s eyes. “I thought he loved me. I wanted…oh, I don’t know what I wanted. Maybe to be someone other than Melissa Hamilton.
“At first Dean seemed genuinely happy about the baby. It wasn’t until he started talking about how much money my ‘old man’ would shell out for his grandkid that I started to see Dean for what he was. Someone who wanted me only because I was Wallace Hamilton’s daughter. Dean didn’t have stars in his eyes when he looked at me, he had dollar signs.”
“I’m so sorry. It must have been awful.”
“Once I convinced him that my stern, Southern father wasn’t going to give his pregnant, runaway daughter a dime, Dean couldn’t leave fast enough.”
She didn’t tell her sister about the way Dean had thrown a wad of money at her and told her to “Get rid of it.” She didn’t mention how she spent the money paying for another week in the same motel, or about the days and nights she had waited in that dingy place hoping Dean would change his mind and come back for her. Even now, she shuddered to recall the fear and loneliness that kept her pinned in that small room with the snowy TV, peeling, faded purple wallpaper and black mildew climbing the tiles around the chipped bathtub.
After a week, she accepted the fact that he was gone for good. There had been nothing left to do but pack her few belongings and board a bus.
Amy took Melissa’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m glad you came home.”
Melissa nodded, too choked by emotion to speak.
Amy rose from the sofa. “Why don’t I fix us a cup of tea?”
Without waiting for a reply, she moved to the kitchen and Melissa had a few minutes to compose herself. She was so much more emotional of late. One minute she was fine and the next she found herself crying a river. It had to be the pregnancy. She certainly didn’t intend to shed one more tear over Dean.
Leaning her head back on the sofa, Melissa closed her eyes. She was so tired. Her nerves had been strung tighter than fiddle strings all day. She needn’t have worried. Her big sister was happy to see her in spite of the trouble she brought. Maybe being home wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Melissa opened her eyes and wondered where she was. Pushing her hair out of her face, she struggled to sit up. Both her neck and her back protested the change in position. The afghan covering her slid to the floor and she remembered she was at her sister’s condo.
The living room was dark except for a single lamp glowing softly on the cherrywood desk in the corner of the room. She squinted at the clock on the wall. It said six-thirty.
The darkness beyond the window had to mean it was six-thirty in the morning. Had she really slept away half the day and all of the night?
Rising, she stretched away her aches, then wiggled her toes and wondered where Amy had stashed her shoes. Looking around, she saw them peeking from under the Monet-styled throw her sister had used to cover her. She folded the blanket, donned her clogs and headed for the kitchen. Now, she was definitely hungry.
A quick survey of the fridge netted her cream cheese and blueberry bagels. She popped the bagels in the toaster, set the kettle on to boil and happily discovered her favorite brand of tea bags in the cupboard beside the sink. She inhaled their pungent fragrance and was instantly struck by memories of herself, her sisters and her mother all enjoying morning tea on the terrace at home.
“You’re up early.” Amy stood in the kitchen door. Her normally immaculate hair had run amok in the night and the pink terry cloth bathrobe over her pajamas had seen better days.
Melissa felt a stab of guilt. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No, I have to go into the office early today. How are you feeling?”
“Better,