Suddenly, the idea of rescuing a little girl sounded utterly amazing.
“Let me talk to my husband,” she said. “I’ll call you in a couple of days.”
“So you’ll do it? ’Cuz they need an answer.”
“I can’t say yes without him being on board.”
“Get him on board, then. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Kaitlyn hung up.
Melissa went back into the den, where the Yankees game was just wrapping up. They’d won, so her husband was in a good mood. Fantastic.
“You should’ve seen the last inning!” he crowed. “García was on first, the pitch went wild, he stole second, then went to third, and the catcher tried to throw him out, but the Red Sox shortstop dropped the ball, and he stole home! It was beautiful!” He took in her robe, her damp hair. “Are you feeling better, sweetheart?” he asked, remembering that she had told him she’d had an exam today.
“A lot better, thank you.” She paused. “Honey, I have some upsetting news.” She took the remote and turned off the TV, noting that Dennis had gotten crumbs all over the new couch. Irritating. She summoned tears, a gift of hers, and looked back up at him, knowing her eyelash extensions caught the tears in a most beguiling way.
“Babe, what is it?” He really was a mensch （word of the day, and one she liked very much）。 She now had a Word of the Day app on her phone, having graduated from paper calendars, but she still took great pride in expanding her vocabulary.
“Well . . .” She took a shaky breath and blinked so the tears would fall. “It’s my . . . sister.”
His face was keen. “What happened, honey?” he asked. Good. He was using pet names again.
“Her addiction disorder has gotten severe, and my niece . . . my poor little niece needs a place to stay for a while. She has no one else but me, Dennis. My parents . . . well, you know about them.”
She watched his face as the penny dropped. What? A kid? Your niece? Live with us? I can be Daddy Warbucks?
“Well, of course she can stay with us! Of course! Oh, honey, absolutely. Let’s fly out this weekend. I should meet your parents anyway. Give your father a piece of my mind.”
“No, no,” Melissa said quickly. “I don’t know how long this will take, honey, and my parents . . . they don’t deserve to meet you.” It hadn’t really been a stretch when she told Dennis she’d grown up in an abusive household with codependent parents. She swallowed and looked out the window. “They don’t even care what happens to their own granddaughter. They told my sister she’d be better off in foster care, and they refuse to give her any money.” As if they had any.
“For their grandchild? Jesus. Coldhearted.”
“You have no idea, honey. That’s why . . . well, that’s probably why I threw myself into making a home for you and me. I never had that growing up. When I fell in love with you, it was magical. It still is.”
“Oh, honey.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her hair, and Melissa smiled. “Of course we’ll bring your niece here. We’ll take such good care of her, the poor kid.”
“Dennis, I love you so much.” She kissed him softly. “You are the best, kindest man in the world.”
Tender lovemaking ensued, as Dennis was feeling heroic. Men were simple creatures.
Now she wouldn’t have to get pregnant. Problem solved. Universe provides.
A few days later, Melissa flew to Columbus, Ohio, rented a luxury car and drove back to Wakeford, which hadn’t changed a bit, unfortunately. It felt like a lifetime ago that she’d left at eighteen, but it had only been seven years. Pulling into the cracked driveway of her childhood home was far too familiar. It was going to take many cleansing breaths to put this behind her. Some very deep meditation.
“？’Bout time,” Mom said as she walked through the door. “I had to call outta work to take care of her. Nice of you to flounce in from wherever you’re at.”
“Lovely to see you again, too.” She glanced in the living room, where her father sat in his recliner. “Hi, Dad.”
“Hey.” He didn’t look away from Fox News.
“Some parents would be excited to see their oldest child after all this time,” she said, irritation making her tap her perfect nails against her bag.
“Well, I don’t have no daughter with your name, whatever the hell it is,” Dad said.
“Miss High-and-Mighty, always too good for us,” Mama added.