Love Inspired April 2021--Box Set 1 of 2, page 43
“Oh, that’s very nice of you but I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“Nonsense. You’re practically family. You live next door, and you claimed one of our puppies.”
His invitation was too sweet to turn down. Hopefully the truce between her and Clay would hold. “I’d love to come. Can I bring anything?”
“Just yourself and a healthy appetite.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” It wasn’t a total lie, but she had to admit to some trepidation at the thought of being part of their family meal. Watching the Reynolds men had opened a new perspective for her. The family closeness left a small kernel of sadness in her heart and a growing sense of envy. What would her life have been like if she’d chosen a different path? What if she’d kept her child instead of chasing after a dream that had evaporated in the chill of reality?
CHAPTER SIX
Clay maneuvered the controls of the Air Tractor, setting it down on the runway with a slight bounce. He taxied the plane into its normal parking position, then shut down the controls. With a sigh, he removed his headset and closed his eyes. He’d nearly crashed today. The tree line at the end of the field had loomed before him, and it was all he could do to lift the plane above it. The Lord had been watching out for him today.
He ran a hand through his hair. It was his own fault. He’d lost focus and allowed his mind to wander to Melody. Normally, he prided himself on his ability to concentrate on all the dozens of details he needed to be aware of when he was in the air. He couldn’t afford to misjudge the wind speed or forget to keep an eye on the terrain.
Having Melody back in his life was playing havoc with his mental state. Eli kept bugging him to go see her. He was fascinated with her cameras. He’d even sneaked over there once, but she hadn’t been home.
If that wasn’t bad enough, rumors were flying about the Delta Company and how they were approaching ag pilots and businesses and luring employees away. Sooner or later, he’d have to tell Dad, if he hadn’t heard the gossip already.
Climbing out of the cockpit, he secured the plane and entered the hangar. Half an hour later, he closed up and headed to the house. He was looking forward to his dad’s chicken and noodles tonight. It had been his favorite meal since he was a kid.
The moment he stepped inside the kitchen, he knew something was up. There was an impish grin on Dad’s face that always, always spelled trouble. For Clay.
He walked to the stove, bracing himself. “What’s going on?”
Dad shrugged. “Nothing much. How’d your day go?”
Clay wasn’t about to tell him about his near crash. Besides, his dad didn’t really care about his day. He was focused on whatever idea had popped up in his head. “Fine. Pretty routine. I’m looking forward to a big plate of noodles.”
“Good. But you’ll have to be on your best behavior tonight. We’re having company.”
“Oh?” Clay prepared to hear the name of a friend or one of Dad’s buddies. “Who’s coming to dinner?”
“Melody.” He grinned like a Cheshire cat.
Clay wasn’t sure he’d heard right. “Melody. Why?”
“Because she’s nice and Eli likes her. I like her. She’s working hard on this book.” He set the kitchen spoon aside and faced him. “She worked for hours today in your grandpa’s library. I thought she could use a home-cooked meal.”
There wasn’t much Clay could say. He couldn’t disagree with a single thing his dad had said. But having Melody at the same table with Eli, sharing a meal, was more family togetherness than he’d bargained for.
From out of nowhere, a surge of longing invaded his mind. The three of them were a family. But adding Melody to the mix created a different picture. They would be a complete family. Mother, father, child, grandparent. The thought should have sent shock waves through his system. Instead he found himself wishing they really were a real and honest family. He tried not to think about what Eli was missing in not having a mother. He’d always told himself it wasn’t important and that he and his dad were enough.
But was it?
“You okay with this, son? I hope so—she’ll be here any moment.”
What could he say? I hate it. Don’t let her in? “Sure, Dad. It’ll be nice. And you’re right. She has worked hard and deserves one of your great home-cooked meals.”
Clay went to clean up, reminding himself it was only supper. A meal with a friend.
If only he could forget that it was a meal with Eli’s mother.
* * *
Melody settled in the dining room, watching as Clay and Eli brought the food to the table. She’d offered to help but they’d refused. She’d kept her gaze on Clay to see if he was unhappy with her joining them, but he appeared relaxed. That eased much of her anxiety. She liked seeing him in this domestic setting. It suited him. The playful banter between the Reynolds men made her smile.
With everything on the table, they took their seats and joined hands. As Dave said grace, Melody held Clay’s hand and fought off memories of holding hands and walking through the park and along Tybee Beach. With determination, she shut down those images and let the conversation drift around her as she ate the tasty meal.
A brief sense of contentment settled over her shoulders, but it was quickly replaced with a deep sense of loss. Her throat seized up, making it hard to swallow. Tears stung the backs of her eyes and she fought them down. She’d never known a pleasant family dinner growing up. Most of the foster homes she’d lived in were chaotic and dysfunctional. Mama Kay’s home was the first place she’d experienced a real family atmosphere. Mama’s husband, Mark, had said grace each night and read the Bible out loud in the evenings. He’d helped with homework and teased her about boys and her love of chocolate. She wondered if Eli knew how fortunate he was having a father and a grandfather.
As she watched the family interact, an old faded dream began to reform. She couldn’t change the past, but maybe someday she could have a family of her own. A child of her own. Shame and regret washed through her veins. She’d had a son. She’d given him up with hardly a thought. She’d sought the Lord’s forgiveness for her past actions and choices, but the memory still had the power to sting like fire through her veins whenever it surfaced.
Forcing aside her gloomy thoughts, she concentrated on Eli, who was telling a story about his friends at school. Eli was a sweet boy, bright, inquisitive and polite.
Eli, who was not much younger than her own son would be, wherever he was.
Enough of that! She set her fork down and said the first thing that came to her head.
“Clay, have you thought any more about Eli coming over to help me with the book?”
Clay froze, gripping his fork tightly. She closed her eyes, already regretting her words. She should have spoken to him privately.
“Can I, Dad? Please. I’ll get my homework done, I promise. I want to help. She already showed me what I’d have to do and it’s easy. And I get to use her cool camera.”
Melody shot a glance at Clay, relieved to see there was no steam coming from his ears. “He is a quick learner and I could use the help. But only if it’s all right with you.”
The muscle in Clay’s jaw flexed briefly. “I guess it would be all right. But your school and chores come first.”
“Woo-hoo! When can I start?”
Melody laughed at his enthusiasm. “Come over tomorrow after school and I’ll get you started.”
“Awesome. Thanks, Dad.”
The look on Clay’s face now was pinched, as if he already regretted his decision. Wanting to keep busy, Melody helped clear the table. Alone with Clay, she thought it might be a good idea to offer an apology.
“I’m sorry for speaking up about Eli helping me. I should have talked to you alone. I really would enjoy having him around and he would be a big help.”
“He’s ten. What can he do?”
“A lot. Taking pictures, for one thing. I can’t take apart all these family histories, so I take pictures of pages and documents to go over later. Eli could easily do that and save me a lot of time. It might make him feel like he was part of the project, too.”
“Maybe.”
Clearly, he had more thinking to do. Best she leave him alone for now. “I’d better go. Thank you for inviting me. Everything was delicious. I can’t remember a more enjoyable meal.” Her voice caught on the words and she turned away, unwilling to let Clay see her raw emotions. She had enjoyed the evening more than she’d ever expected and didn’t want it to end.
“Is something wrong? Are you all right?”
She nodded, collecting herself before facing him and forcing a smile. “Everything was perfect. I haven’t had many family suppers in my life. It makes me wish I had a real family.”
“Maybe you will someday.”
“No. Not now. Not after all I’ve done.” She raised her chin. “I’d better run. I’m expecting a call from Mrs. Van Buren. Tell your dad and Eli goodbye for me.”
“Melody, wait.”
“Talk to you later.”
She hurried outside and across the lawn toward the cottage. Joy and sadness, regret and gratitude all battled in her mind as she walked. The evening had been perfect. If she’d chosen differently, she could have had a home and family. This family, even. But she’d been too young and too ignorant to understand what she was sacrificing.
Inside the cottage, she scooped up Barney, turned out the lights and went to her bedroom. Fatigue pulled her down. It had been a long day, but she’d made great strides. Two recent interviews with locals had given her new and interesting information for the book, and Deborah had dropped off a jump drive containing old newspaper articles from 1900 to 1940. Melody couldn’t wait to dig into them.
Unbuttoning her shirt, she glanced at herself in the mirror. Slowly, she removed her blouse. Her gaze automatically landed on her left arm and the scarred tissue running from her shoulder to right above her wrist. Just looking at it brought a lump to her throat. After two years, the puckered and whitened skin still had the power to trigger depression. She touched the scar lightly, closing her eyes to the ugly sight.
Then she deliberately shifted her thoughts to gratitude, uttering a soft prayer for forgiveness. As much as the bombing had taken from her, the Lord had given back threefold.
The surgeries, the long rehabilitation, the emotional trenches she’d had to climb out of—they’d stripped away her old ideas and assumptions about life. The Lord had set her on a new path, filled with hope. God’s mercy had restored her. If an ugly scarred arm was the price she had to pay, it was worth it. Ten times over. She’d emerged from that horrible event stronger, saner and with a contentment she’d never known before. She was still subject to brief bouts of depression and insecurity, but they were fewer now.
Opening the tube of ointment, she applied it lightly to the scars to keep the skin supple. What would Clay think if he saw her arm? Would he pity her? Would he believe she deserved what she got after the way she’d left? No. Clay would never wish harm on anyone. His attitude toward her was understandable. Thankfully, he was easing up on that.
Maybe someday they could come out the other side as friends. It was the most she could ask for.
* * *
Clay stood on the front porch watching Melody hurry back to the cottage. He’d been caught off guard by her reaction to supper. Sometimes he forgot that she’d been raised in foster care, devoid of the warmth of family that had surrounded him all his life. One of the things he’d always admired about her was her strength and determination to overcome her difficult past.
He’d have to be more sensitive to her history from here on. He had no desire to cause her pain. He’d enjoyed the evening meal, too. She’d appeared relaxed and happy. It wasn’t until she’d brought up the subject of Eli helping her that he’d had a problem.
Every impulse in his body still shouted no, but Dad’s warning was never far from his mind. If he made too much of them spending time together, it could backfire. He was stuck between the infamous rock and a hard place.
Clay remained on the porch until the lights went out in the cottage, then he took a seat on the swing. He needed a few minutes to himself to think things through. His secrets were eating away at him. Not only did he carry the truth about Melody and Eli on his shoulders, but he was also keeping the business problems from his father. And he was tired.
Dusty Birds had been hit hard financially last year and this year wasn’t looking any better. It had been the wettest spring and summer on record. You couldn’t spray when it was raining. The downtime was cutting deep into their operating budget and the forecast for the summer was more of the same. If this kept up, Dusty Birds would be out of business. He couldn’t let that happen. His family had kept the business running for generations. It wasn’t going to die on his watch. He was doing his best to shield Dad from the truth of the situation, but if things got worse they’d have to face facts. Dad would be heartbroken. He was so proud of the company.
Clay entered the kitchen to find his dad mixing up a batch of brownies. “How can you be hungry after that huge meal?”
Dave chuckled. “This has nothing to do with hunger. I had a hankering for chocolate, and Eli made a special request.”
“Ah. I should have guessed.” Eli had his grandpa wrapped up like a prized turkey.
“Did you enjoy the meal? Melody was a nice addition, don’t you think?”
Clay knew his dad was fishing for a positive comment, hoping he was changing his attitude toward Melody. “If you say so.”
“Eli enjoyed her being here. He told me it was like having a whole family.”
“He said that?”
“He did. He said it was nice and he sometimes wished he had a mom to have dinner with.”
“I know what you’re trying to do, Dad, but it won’t work. I’m not going to tell him about Melody.”
“Not ever?”
Clay rubbed his chin. “Eventually.”
Dave poured the batter into a rectangular pan. “Unless he discovers the truth himself.”
“Not going to happen.”
Dad shrugged. “Don’t be so sure.”
“Are you going to tell him?” Surely he wouldn’t stoop so low.
“Me? Of course not. But I think there’s an invisible bond between mother and child, and it might rear its head in ways you don’t expect.”
“I’ve got this under control, Dad. Don’t worry. And I’ll tell Eli when the time is right.”
His dad smiled sadly. “I’m not sure that’s up to you. Oh, by the way, do you know anything about Southern Ag Air closing down?”
Clay had heard the rumor. In fact, he’d planned to call the owner, Carl Edison, in the morning. “It’s probably speculation. Carl would never shut down.”
“I don’t know. That company that bought out Sam Jenkins’s business—what’s their name, Delta something? I’ve heard they’re buying up a lot of the smaller crop-dusting companies.”
“Delta Agricultural Applications.”
“That’s it. Jenkins should never have sold out to them. But he told me he had no choice. He couldn’t compete.”
Clay’s conscience stung. Should he tell his dad the state of their affairs? “Maybe he didn’t. Last year was tough on all of us. With all this rain, this year isn’t looking good.”
Dave shook his head. “I know, but those big outfits tend to gobble up small businesses one day and go belly up a few months later. This Delta thing is like a corporate raider of crop dusting. Promise me you won’t let them come after us.”
“Don’t worry, Dad. I won’t let anything happen to the company.” He patted his dad’s shoulder reassuringly, but inside his burden grew. How could he admit he might not be able to keep that promise?
* * *
Melody stared out the window of her small annex office and sighed. The steady rain that had been falling over the last three days had finally eased up to a light mist. As much as she enjoyed rainy days for writing, the dreary weather had begun to wear on her. The forecast called for sunshine this afternoon and she looked forward to taking Barney for a walk. He needed more exercise than simply tossing a ball across the living room.
“Miss Williams.”
Melody looked up at the woman who stood in her doorway. “Yes. Come in. Can I help you?”
The woman smiled, her blue eyes filled with a friendly light. “I hope I can help you.”
Melody motioned her to be seated. “Sorry for the cramped quarters. I normally work at home, but this is a good location to meet with people from town.”
“My name is Julia Temple. My husband and I bought the Dickson Home on Olive Street. It’s in the historic district, and we’ve been doing extensive remodeling.”
“Sounds like a big job.”
“More than we anticipated, I’m afraid. We recently opened up a walled-off section of the attic and found several boxes filled with old newspapers, journals and a few letters. I thought they might be helpful in researching the bicentennial history book.”
Melody’s heart raced. “They would indeed. I can only learn so much from books and looking at family photos. Newspapers would be a wonderful source of information.”
“I have the boxes in my car. Should I bring them in?”
“No. Let’s put them in my car. I’m leaving shortly. I’ll go through them this evening where I can spread them out.”
Melody followed Mrs. Temple outside and transferred the old misshapen cardboard boxes to her trunk. Her mind was whirling with excitement, anticipating the stories she might uncover.
“I can’t thank you enough for this,” she said. “I’m sure these will prove to be a valuable addition to the book. I’ll take good care of them and return them as soon as possible.”
