Page 64 of Melody

Melody didn’t serve a lot of wine at the bar, but they had a cooler where most of the wine was stored. Denise had told her it didn’t get super cold but brought the wine slightly below room temperature; they did have some wines that were refrigerated, and Melody simply tried to remember where to find particular wines when they were requested—and, if she didn’t find it in one place, she knew it’d be in another. Thanks to enough customers ordering, she remembered that the merlot and zinfandel were in the cooler andnotthe fridge, and at least she didn’t have to recall the temperature they should be.

Kyle said, “Where’s Tiger?”

Cassie’s mocha eyes communicated it all. “We had to put him to sleep.”

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry. What happened?”

“He…had some kind of tumor on his brain. He kept having seizures, so…”

Kyle frowned. “When did that happen?”

“In March.” Cassie began moving toward the kitchen. “I’m gonna see what else mom needs.”

Kyle didn’t waste any time pulling Melody in an embrace. She said, “That’s so sad.”

“Yeah, but he was pretty old. I think he was, like, sixteen or something.”

“Still…”

“Yeah, Cass had that cat since she was little. I feel like an asshole.”

Melody touched his cheek. “Don’t.”

“Are you still feeling nervous?”

She smiled into his handsome face. “No.” Awkward, maybe, but she knew that would fade with more time.

When Kyle’s mother and sister came into the dining room, Cassie set a carafe of ice water on the table while Linda placed a pitcher of what appeared to be iced tea. Then his mother said, “All right. Let’s pray.”

Nodding, Kyle took Melody’s hand into his right and his mother’s hand in his left; his mother held hands with him and Cassie; meanwhile, Cassie extended her left to take Melody’s right. It had taken Melody a moment to understand what they were doing: all of them were holding hands in a circle around the table. It was a lovely gesture, reminding Melody that all families had their own traditions.

Linda said, “Kyle, would you like to say the prayer?”

When Melody looked at him, his face seemed to have paled a bit. “Um…can I pass?”

There was no mistaking the stern expression that passed over his mother’s face. Clearly, she did not like his answer—but she said, “All right. I’ll do it.” Then she bowed her head, followed by Cassie and Kyle doing the same. Melody quickly bowed her head as well, but she kept her eyes open as Linda began praying. “Heavenly father, thank you for this year’s bountiful harvest and thank you for bringing us together safe and sound. We all still feel the huge gap left by Liam’s absence, but please hold him in your loving arms until the day we can see him again. In Jesus’s name, amen.”

When Melody heard both Cassie and Kyle quietly sayamenafter their mother, she also said it. As they both let go of her hands, she raised her head, trying not to let her face show how she felt inside—because she knew that sometimes compassion could be mistaken for pity, and she had a feeling Kyle’s mother wouldn’t appreciate the latter. Still, it was quite evident that she was still in mourning for the loss of her oldest son. Melody imagined it was something she might never be able to fully recover from.

And that had to make both Kyle and Cassie feel guilty—and maybe as if they didn’t matter as much. Kyle hadn’t said a lot about his relationship, but Melody knew there was still something of a rift between him and his mother. Reminders like her prayer probably didn’t help.

“Let’s eat,” Linda said, leading the way back into the kitchen, holding her plate.

Melody grabbed Kyle’s hand again and squeezed, hoping he could feel what she was trying to communicate. Smiling, he said quietly, “I’m glad you’re here.” As she nodded, he said, “Don’t forget your plate.”

When they entered the kitchen, Linda said, “If either of you need to wash your hands, you can do it here at the sink or in the bathroom.” Melody took it as a hint and washed herhands quickly. Kyle followed suit. But when it came to the food, Melody planned to followhislead. There were pots and dishes full of food on the table—but, until she watched and did what he did, she wouldn’t have known the stove also held food, a fairly informal buffet.

When they came back to the dining room, Melody had a bounty of food, just like his mother had prayed for: a little turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, stuffing, corn, a roll, and a beautiful green salad with pomegranate seeds that Cassie had proudly told her she’d made. There had been a couple of Jell-O salads and a green bean casserole that she’d passed over, partly because she didn’t have room on her plate.

It wasn’t until they were all seated that Melody realized she could hear Christmas music coming from the living room. Kyle grabbed the carafe of water. “Do you want some?”

“Sure.” While he filled up both his and her glasses, she grabbed a couple of napkins from the holder and set one next to Kyle’s plate.

Linda said, “Cass, not Elvis. Please put in something else.Anythingelse.”

Cassie got up, scurrying to the living room, and Melody tried to tell herself that it wasn’t tension that she felt. It had to be that she still felt nervous. Soon, Elvis’s voice crooning “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” stopped, replaced by a woman’s voice singing “Silent Night.”

When Cassie returned, Kyle said, “Why’d you have to put in Mariah friggin’ Carey?”

---