Page 55 of Stick Side

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“Hi, honey,” her dad greeted as he folded up his newspaper.

“Hi, Daddy,” she returned, walking around the breakfast table and planting a kiss on his upturned cheek.

“Where’s Mom?” she asked, looking around the room for any traces of her mother before taking a seat in the chair across from her dad’s.

“She’s at rehearsal,” her dad revealed. “She was asked to direct this year’s musical theater production at the university.”

Melody loved the pride she heard in her father’s voice whenever he spoke of his wife’s accomplishments. She knew her mom’s job hadn’t been easy on their marriage during the early years when she’d needed to travel so much—leaving him to be the home-based parent—but their support of each other had never wavered. Melody considered herself truly blessed to have grown up with such loving, adaptable parents. She might not have had a lot of romantic experience herself, but she felt very fortunate to have had such phenomenal role models. Unlike many people, she at least knew what a healthy and thriving relationship looked like.

“Awww, that’s too bad,” Melody lamented over her mother’s absence. “I’m thrilled for Mom, but it would have been nice to see her.”

“Agreed,” her dad said. “At least it’s easier to see each other now that we all live in the same city.”

“That’s true,” Melody concurred.

After having spent the past few years living in New York, she was grateful for their renewed proximity. She hadn’t realized just how much she liked their family time until she’d moved away for school. While she was certainly both mature and capable enough of living hundreds of miles away from her parents, she didn’t want to.

“On the upside,” her dad said with a smile, “your mom very thoughtfully made us waffles before she left.”

Melody perked up. “The almond flour ones? With a side of fresh whipped cream?”

“The almond flour ones with fresh whipped cream,” her dad confirmed with upturned lips. “Sweetened with just a touch of maple syrup. Exactly the way you like it. There’s also a bowl of fresh berries.”

Melody sighed happily. “I love Mom.”

“Of course you do,” her dad chuckled, “though, hopefully, for far more reasons than the fact that she’s an exceptional cook.”

“Oh, for sure,” she said as she got up from her chair and walked toward the countertop laden with the type of warming dishes one might expect to find in a small restaurant. “But it doesn’t hurt.”

“No,” her dad agreed, bracing his hands over top of what she presumed was a full stomach, “it really doesn’t.”

Melody grabbed a plate from the cupboard. “Have you eaten yet?” she asked, seeking to confirm her suspicion before closing the cupboard. “Would you like a plate?”

“I’m good. Thanks, honey. I had a bite with your mom before she left. I’ll just savor my coffee while you eat.”

She noticed that his café au laitwas still mostly undrunk. Now that she took the time to notice, she could see that wisps of steam were rising off the top. He must have made it moments before she arrived.

Melody shut the cabinet door and made her way over to the delicious spread her mom had laid out. She sighed with contentment. Her mom really did spoil them.

“Benjamin Logan came to talk to me the other day,” her dad volunteered as she deposited a particularly delicious-looking golden waffle onto her plate.

Her shoulders tensed at the unexpected comment. For the second night in a row, she’d lain awake half the night alternating between replaying their picture-perfect date in her mind’s eye and wondering whether their kiss had been as good for Ben as it had been for her.

She’d been leaning into the possibility that he was simply being a gentleman by not pushing her for more than a kiss goodnight, but she hadn’t heard from him at all yesterday, which had left her feeling even more confused. She knew he’d had a work commitment that was slotted to take up the bulk of his day, but was it really so hard to send a short text? A busy day had never stopped him from getting in touch with her before.

She’d decided to give him until this afternoon before reaching out herself. Life happened. She understood that, but the suspense was killing her.If he’d changed his mind about dating her, she would rather have it confirmed than keep on torturing herself.

Melody was proud of herself for trying to frame her situation with Ben in a positive light, but today might be another day in which it would take a little more caffeine than normal to fuel her through the day. She’d have to ask her dad if he would consider making her a cappuccino. She would do it herself, but he’d opted for one of those fancy machines that practically required an engineering degree to figure out. Considering she didn’t even own a coffee maker, it was a little out of her depth.

Pushing aside the memories of her fitful night, Melody forced herself to relax and not read too much into her dad’s statement about Ben having sought him out for a talk. “I’m not really surprised. You’re his coach. Don’t all your players take the time to see you every now and then?”

Her father appeared to consider her words. His facial features twisted into an expression she struggled to interpret. “Sure they do,” her dad said. He paused for the barest of moments, his expression thoughtful. “But this is the first time one of my players has ever asked me how I’d feel if they dated my daughter.” His eyebrows rose over the frames of his glasses.

“What?” she exclaimed, startled. She didn’t know what she’d expected him to say, but it hadn’t been that.

“Are you trying to tell me there’s nothing going on between the two of you? That his interest is entirely one-sided or that you didn’t even know about it?” Once again, his eyebrows rose above the frame of his glasses.

Melody could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. “Ben took me out to dinner on Thursday.”