Page 41 of Valentine's Day Proposal

“Well, do you?” Mom’s question interrupted my thoughts.

“No, Mom. I don’t want you to call Mrs. Suthers and tattle on Willow. She’s a grown woman. Okay? I just want her to give me a chance. I need to find a way to speak louder than anything else in her life.” I could write a letter, but that would just go unread or discarded. I could send a gift, but that didn’t work out so well last time.

“Does she watch a lot of television?”

“What? Mom, I’m trying to think.”

“I know, dear. I’m trying to help. I just had an idea.” I heard some rummaging in the background of the call. Mom covered the receiver and mumbled something, probably to Dad. “Oh, here it is.”

“What?”

“I have the solution for you and a way that Willow will really listen, but you’re going to have to be really humble and in a very public way.”

The way she said that made me doubt everything I thought I knew about my mother, but if she had an idea that would work. I’d try it. What’s the worst that could happen? Even another failure to reach her couldn’t make it worse, but not trying would mean certain defeat, and I wasn’t giving up. Not yet.

36

WILLOW

My back hurt; my feet hurt, and I’d tried on more sweaters than I cared to admit. Mom carried an armful of bags, all the things I had picked out for my little guy. Everything was yellow or green, neutral baby colors because I didn’t know what I was having yet. After the emotional week I’d had following Charles’s surprise visit to their home, I had barricaded myself in my room and refused to come out. This shopping trip was Mom’s way of coaxing me back to reality.

I passed on the idea of a baby shower. Having hordes of family and friends around me trying to make me talk about all things pregnancy and motherhood just didn’t feel right. I was depressed and angry. All I needed was a few good hours with my best friend and my mom, a large chocolate milkshake which I slurped through the straw loudly, and some time to decompress. I could buy everything I needed myself. I had plenty of money. My salary for the entire year and the check from Peter had set me up pretty well.

“Aunt Sonya is still going to be upset that she is mailing a check to you instead of showing up for some party games and fun. You know that right?” Mom handed me a napkin and I dabbed at the milkshake on my chin. Most stores wouldn’t allow me to carry my drink in, but this one had no signs, so we shuffled through row after row of baby clothing and items.

“Aunt Sonya doesn’t get to decide what I feel comfortable with. I’m done with society telling people what they are supposed to do because of tradition or what is expected. If I don’t want a baby shower, why should I be forced to partake of one just because the guests wanted it?” I felt the fabric of a little satin dress. It was adorable, but I was here to buy neutral clothing. If I had a boy, I’d have to return the dress anyway.

“You’re so right,” Mel commented, ogling the same dress. “This is so fucking cute!” She grinned. “But yeah, people can get fucked.”

“Melanie!” Mom scolded.

“It’s Melody, Mom, and she has a point. Why do we torture ourselves because of societal expectations?” I pushed Mel’s hand away from the dress, feeling the baby move around. “Want to feel it kick?” I asked, eyebrows raised.

“Yes!” Mel’s hand instantly reached for my belly, and I positioned it right where I felt the movement.

“Here.” The movement continued as Mom and Mel took turns pressing their hands to my stomach, and when it calmed, we moved on. “Let’s get out of here. I’m starting to feel too tired to walk around anymore. I think we have enough baby clothes for the time being. What I really need is for that bassinet I ordered to arrive.”

“Okay, dear. Let’s go back home. Mel, would you like to join us for dinner? I’m making Willow’s favorite: homemade tomato bisque and grilled cheese.”

Mel chuckled. “Willow likes grilled cheese?”

“Non-dairy cheese.” I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, you should come over. It’ll be nice to catch up a little more. And we can talk strategy. The new office won’t be open until after this tax season is over, but it will allow us to get a great plan in order.” I slurped the shake, realizing it was almost empty, so I sucked it dry and tossed it in the trash can on our way out of the store.

“Sounds great… I’ll have to follow you though. I don’t know my way around rural Virginia. I’m a city girl.” Mel winked and hooked her arm in mine as we headed down the concourse of the mall. We chatted about the new office and a few of the candidates we’d narrowed our search down to. The leader of the new office had to be strong and confident just like both of us, and finding one was challenging.

As we left the mall, stepping out into the February air, a loud gathering a few stores down caught our attention. There were news crews set up, vans parked up and down the street. A cluster of people hovered in front of a store, watching something going down. It intrigued me. Things like this didn’t happen in our small town very often, so it drew our attention just as it had the crowd’s.

“I wonder what’s happening over there.” Mel pointed, heading that direction. I was forced to accompany her because her arm was still locked around mine.

“I’ll go put the packages in the car and pull it up, okay? Then we can drive Mel to her car so she can follow us.” Mom wiggled her fingers in a goodbye as she pulled her keys out and walked away. Mel and I advanced on the crowd, a loud male voice beginning to come into focus. I quickly realized whose voice it was and tried to shy away.

“Uh, no. Mel, let’s just go.” I pulled at her arm, but she didn’t let go. It was like she was trying to physically transport me into hell. My arm was trapped in her iron grip and my heart was pounding. “Please, I just want to go.”

“And so, I’m here today to say exactly that.” Charles stood in front of a group of people, most of them reporters. He wore a suit and tie, the same black wool trench that he had on when he came to my parents’ house last week. They vied for his attention, pushing their microphones closer to him.

“What on earth is he doing here?” Mel hissed, turning to me.

“I don’t know, and I want to leave before he sees me.” I pulled at her arm, but still she didn’t relent.

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