“Hope is a polite, well-adjusted young woman. It’s clear you’re doing a fine job raising her,” William said.
“She is . . . isn’t she?” They both looked into the middle of the street. Hope played alongside a handful of other kids her age. All kids she would have eventually met when she started school in the fall. She was smiling and laughing, despite the broken arm and the events of the week.
“I may not be able to provide her with all the toys and all the junk a lot of kids have. But she has what she needs. I’ve sacrificed my own crap so she could have enough.” Melanie lifted a hand in the air. “I’m not trying to toot my own horn. I just do what every other parent out there does. Except Nathan. He never sacrificed squat. So yeah . . .” she paused, set the bone on the plate. “I’m pissed he even showed up. It isn’t like he handed me a check, or God forbid, health insurance.” The thought of the bills that were coming her way hadn’t even hit her yet. The hospital social workers had set her up with a contact to help tap into some funding for the needy to help minimize the debt. Bottom line, she didn’t have the money for gas for her car when she had one, and health insurance wasn’t a priority when she could stand in line at a clinic. Yeah, it sucked, but she didn’t have many options.
It was William’s turn to point food at her. “You know the good thing about anger?”
“No, what?” She bit into another rib.
“It’s the perfect motivator. Not happy with the current president? It motivates you to go out and vote for the next. Gas prices too high? Buy an electric car, hug a tree, put in solar. Tired of bullies? Learn to fight, take control, don’t allow yourself to be a victim.”
Melanie looked into the eyes of the man and saw his son. “Did Wyatt tell you to say that?”
William offered a look of shock. “Remember who raised whom, darlin’.”
She giggled. “He calls me that.”
“Calls you what?”
“Darlin’. Always makes me think he was raised in Texas and not California.”
William glanced toward the cloudless sky. “Guilty. Born and raised outside of Houston. I’d like to think some of me chipped off the block.”
She couldn’t help but laugh and search the block chip out of the crowd. She caught him across the street, standing beside Luke and a man who looked familiar but she couldn’t place.
Wyatt offered a wave and she smiled back, waving her rib.
Well, what was left of it.
She returned her gaze to William, then snapped back to Wyatt and narrowed her eyes. “Is that . . . Alan Crane?”
William glanced around, saw his son, and shrugged. “Looks like it.”
Melanie tilted her head. “You knew he was coming?”
He finished off his corn and wiped his mouth with the red and white checkered napkin before placing it on the table. “I might have had my people contact his people.”
“But my daughter’s not missing.” And Alan Crane was the face of missing children. After the murder of his young daughter many years ago, Alan’s life revolved around finding missing children and the perpetrators who harmed them. He was the media face of the forgotten.
“Mr. Lewis is,” William said.
She stared at Wyatt’s father without humor. “But Wyatt asked you to help with Nathan.”
He laid his hand over hers. “No. He asked that I help with you. And Melanie . . . my son has never asked a thing of me since before he was in college. Even then . . .”
Tears were close, but she pushed them back. “I’ll pay you back someday.”
Hope took that moment to climb up into the chair she had beside them. She shoved food in her face and smiled at them both before scrambling off.
“You already have.”
Zoe snuck up behind her and slid into a chair. “Well, do I pass the test?” Zoe asked the question to William.
“Just like back home.” He waved a rib before taking a bite.
Melanie questioned her friend with a lifted brow. “You knew he was from Texas?”
“Oh, please. The minute the man opened his mouth I knew where Wyatt got all that swagger and charm.”
“I may not have the accent I once did, but I’d have to turn in my born and raised card if I’d lost my swagger.”
They were both laughing at the twang William put behind his words.
“I guess the name ‘Wild Bill’ makes a little more sense,” Melanie said.
“When do you fly out?” William asked.
Zoe sighed. “Tomorrow early.”
Melanie leaned her head on her friend’s shoulder. “It means so much that you came.”
Zoe offered a one-arm hug. “Always, anytime.”
And before Melanie let her friend go, she told her, “And tell Luke your plans. The guy goes a little nutty when you leave.”
With a heavy sigh, she said, “He knew I was leaving the last time.”
“Two words . . . Bar. Fight.”
“Fine!” Zoe pushed herself off the seat and searched the crowd. Once she caught sight of Luke, she darted across the street.
“Your friend is a fine chef.”
“Yeah . . . and you’ve only tasted her barbeque. She makes things I can’t even pronounce.”