“That’s exactly why I want you to ask her to come. If she thinks we need her to help, she won’t say no. Her family is somewhere out on the east coast and I don’t want her sitting alone in her apartment.” I should have known my scheming wife had this all figured out. At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if she knows more about Melanie’s life than I do.
The bigger problem is that Alyssa knows I won’t tell her no. If she asked for the Taj Mahal to be sitting in the front lawn when she wakes up tomorrow morning, I would spend all night trying to figure out how to make it happen. At least, I hope she sees that I’m trying to be more accommodating since the night Melanie chewed my ass. There have been plenty of times I’ve wanted to tell Alyssa to slow down, to take it easy, but then Melanie’s voice rings in my head, telling me that I can’t be a controlling ass. I still can’t believe she challenged me the way she did, but after I calmed down I was able to see that I needed that.
I kiss the top of Alyssa’s head as I gather more wrapped gifts to put under the tree, shaking my head when I see three marked for Melanie. “Sure, I’ll give her a call right now.”
“Thank you,” Alyssa says sweetly, giving me a megawatt smile. The woman truly amazes me.
I duck into my bedroom before dialing Melanie’s number. I’m fully prepared to play dirty if I have to and I don’t want Alyssa hearing what might be said. She and Melanie have become good friends and I won’t jeopardize that if I can help it.
“Is everything okay?” Melanie answers on the third ring, out of breath. I glance at my alarm clock and see that it’s already after ten.
“I’m sorry to call so late, but Alyssa just told me she wants to go to Mass tomorrow night and she was hoping you might be willing to come with.” I couldn’t say it to Alyssa, but I know that Melanie hates the concept of organized religion, so I’m not surprised at the exasperated sigh in response to my request.
“Do I have a choice?” she asks. I can almost picture her with her head thrown back on the couch, her arm thrown over her eyes as she tries to figure out how she’s going to get out of this.
“I told you a long time ago, you always have a choice.” I lower my voice, hoping she will comprehend the meaning.
There’s no response for a long time. Just as I prepare to hang up and call back, I hear a dog barking in the background. “Melanie?”
“You owe me for this one, Xavier. Tell her I’ll be there.”
“Thank you. It means a lot to her.” I pause, wondering if I should say the rest of what’s on my mind.
“Anything else?” Melanie asks impatiently.
“No, I guess not,” I sigh. “Sweet dreams.” I bang my head against the wall after we disconnect the call. I used to tell her to have sweet dreams every night, back when I was traveling for work and she was curled up on the bed in this room before going to sleep. For months after Melanie left, I wondered if things would have turned out differently had I not been so dedicated to becoming the top project manager for the medical technology firm that hired me right out of college. It wasn’t until after Jacob was born that I started to realize how screwed up my priorities were and I’m not sure I’ve ever completely straightened them out.
“Daddy, I saw presents for Miss Melanie under the tree!” If I didn’t know better, I would think someone fed Jacob straight sugar this morning for breakfast. He’s been bouncing off the walls, once literally, since he climbed into my bed at five-thirty. “Does that mean she’s having Christmas with us?”
Jacob follows me around the house, babbling about how nice and pretty Miss Melanie is. Even though she wouldn’t have to, she’s been spending more and more time at the house, even getting down on the floor to play blocks with Jacob when Alyssa is sleeping. And while I fix dinner, she’s started keeping my son occupied by coloring on sheets she prints off for him each night. I wonder if she does this for all of the families she works with or if we’re the lucky ones, but I don’t ask her about it. I’m not sure how I would handle hearing whatever answer she could give me.
“Yeah, buddy, Miss Melanie will be here for Christmas.” I look at the shopping list Alyssa has prepared for me, wondering who’s going to cook and eat all of this food. It’s one thing to want to have a perfect Christmas dinner, but I’m fairly certain Jacob and I will be eating leftovers for the next month.
“Does that mean she’s our family now, Daddy?” I spew coffee across the room at my son’s question. He’s going to be the death of me if he keeps staring at me with those puppy dog eyes.
“No, buddy,” I say, trying to let him down easy. “Miss Melanie is Mommy’s friend, but she’s not family.”