Mel is ever so impatiently waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs. Hands on hips and tapping her toe, she rolls her eyes as she eyes my hair. “You better run a comb through that.” She reaches out and touches the mass of tangled locks draped over my shoulder. “Just-fucked hair isn’t going to look good in Christmas morning snapshots.” She quips sarcastically.
“Shhh. I don’t need Momma to overhear you!” I press my finger across my lips and try to keep my voice low. I can’t believe she just said that. “You should be more concerned about her overhearing you when you’re up there.” Mel eyes the top of the stairs and I can’t help feeling embarrassed at the thought of Momma hearing us have sex. Mel reads my shock and says, “Well, I can hear you anyway. Just move your bed away from the wall, would you?”
Reid clears his throat. “Umm, I’m going to go grab some breakfast.” He kisses the top of my head and walks out of the hallway into the kitchen. He’s not one for sex chat among girlfriends.
Mel stares at me suspiciously and then bursts out laughing. I can’t help but join in with her. When our little fit has passed, she asks, “So it’s good then, huh?” No shame. No remorse. That’s Melanie for you.
I tap my bottom lip and make her wait for my response. She’s not a patient person so she pinches my side. “Come one. Spill it!”
“Okay, okay!” I pitch my voice a little lower and pull her to the side of the hallway, up against the wall. “It’s freaking fantastic. He’s amazing. Sorry we woke you up though.” I arch my eyebrow playfully at her. I’m not sorry, but I feel like the apology is necessary.
Seizing the opportunity to ask her something that’s been on my mind all week, I pull her down to sit on the bottom stairs with me. Linking my arm with hers, I lean my head on her shoulder and she leans her head on mine. “Is everything okay, Mel? I’m so worried about you lately. Reid said he had to help you into bed the other night because you were so drunk. That’s not like you at all.” Worry and concern color my words.
She stiffens next to me. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just drank too much. I haven’t seen the girls in a long time and we went a little crazy that’s all.” I don’t buy her act one bit. Shifting my leg under my body, I twist to face her and she does the same.
“Melanie, please talk to me.” When she doesn’t say anything, I give her the best friend stare. Still nothing. “Okay, fine. You went out with the girls, but you’re not a drinker. You never have been. What’s going on?” Still not saying a word, I give her the “you better answer me right this minute” look to let her know that I mean business. She’s still trying to avert eye contact – looking at the pictures that line the hallway, until the loud sigh that escapes my mouth forces her to look at me.
Exasperatedly, she huffs at me. She knows she’s going to have to confess and judging by the look on her face, she knows I’m not going to be happy. “I cheated on Bryan.” Her words are blurted out in a rush. Maybe she’s hoping that saying them quickly, will take away their sting. And I don’t want to be surprised by her confession; I don’t want my face to convey shock and a little bit of disgust, but some things just can’t be helped.
Grasping her hands in mine, I bite back my initial reaction and try to be as compassionate as possible. “Oh no, sweetie. Why would you…? I mean how…? I thought you guys were working on things?”
A tear trickles down her cheek and I know she regrets her actions. Sometimes regret isn’t enough though. She releases my hands, and hangs her head down low into her own. Shaking her head as if it will rid her of the guilt I know she’s feeling, she just mumbles, “I don’t know.”
When she finally picks her head back up to look at me, I see a conflicted knot of emotions. “I love Bryan. I really do, but I guess with everything going on with us, with him being so unsure…” She’s shaking her head and flailing her arms around wildly obviously trying to rein in her distraught state. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, she continues. “Well, it made me feel like maybe he doesn’t want me, or us for that matter. It was stupid on my part. I know it. What do I do, Maddy?” Her head hangs low in her hands as her chest heaves with soft sobs.
The only advice I can come up with is what I wish someone would have told me when I stole Katie’s number from Reid’s phone. Pulling her face out of her hands, and looking softly in her eyes, I smile lovingly at her. “You have to be honest with him, Mel. It’s not going to do either of you any good if you continue on with this relationship and you hide this from him. Give him some time and space to deal with it and let him figure out how he feels about it.” She’s got a death grip on my hands in a vain attempt to calm the trembling that’s set in.
Swiping the tears from under her eyes, she takes a deep breath and grabs for my hands again. “God, this is going to suck, but you’re right. I have to tell him.” She still sounds lost in despair, but if I’m not mistaken, she’s also a bit hopeful that things might work out.
“Are you still going there for New Year’s Eve?” I ask tentatively. I know she was planning on surprising him, but I have a feeling that her current situation might prevent her from doing that.
Pinching the bridge of her nose, she sighs and shakes her head. “No. I mean, I really wanted to, but now with all of this, I just think it’ll be better to deal with it all when we get back to school. It’s only a few weeks away and it’ll give me the time I need to clear my head about it.”
Shaking her head again, she admonishes herself. “I can’t believe I screwed up so badly.”
“Oh, sweetie. It’ll work out. You just have to figure out how.” I pat her hand gently and brush a strand of her fiery red hair out of her eyes.
Grasping my hand, she looks me in the eye and says, “I see how happy you and Reid are now that everything is out in the open with you two. I guess the best I can do is hope that it’ll be that way for me and Bryan too.” With one last deep breath, she shakes her head seemingly ridding herself of the rather touchy subject at hand. “Thank you, Maddy. I love you, girl.” She squeezes me tightly and I wrap my arms around her in return. She’s right; it’s going to suck, but it’s the only way. “Come on. Enough of this serious stuff. Let’s go open some presents.” Her bright smile is a fairly decent attempt to cover up her sadness.
As we stand up from the stairs, she laughs again. Touching my hair once more, she says, “Seriously, though. Go brush that hair before Momma sees it. I don’t think she can hear you all the way on the other end of the house. I just needed to tease you guys.” She smiles widely at me as I nervously run my hand over the rat’s nest that is my hair. “Okay. I’ll be down in a minute. Let’s talk about this later though. I’m here for you. Remember that.” We exchange one last small smile and go our separate ways.
After taming my hair, I go into the kitchen and grab some breakfast. Before long, the four of us are circled around the Christmas tree exchanging gifts.
“Here, open this one.” Mel hands me a small shirt box. As I begin tearing at the paper, she says, “No. It’s for both of you.” She eyes Reid who is sitting right next to me, his arm draped around my shoulders. He scoots closer to me as I finish pulling the rest of the shiny red paper off of the box.
Nestled inside of the green tissue paper is, as I expected, a shirt, but it’s not for me. Holding up a small, frilly, pink onesie, I read the front of it aloud “My Aunt thinks I’m a Princess.” Smiling brightly at her, I say, “Thank you so much, Mel. This is adorable!” Reid just nods. I think he’s a little scared to see something this tiny. I pat his leg gently, and look up into his fearful blue eyes. “It’s okay, babe. No need to be scared of something this small.” I hold the frills up to him and he relaxes a little.
“You know, Mel. It might be a boy.” Reid chimes in and I can see the glimmer of hope in his eyes.
Reid wants a son.
Giving him her best, “do you think I’m an idiot look”, she says, “Of course I know that.” Momma laughs from her perch on the couch. Her eyes are shining with warmth and love watching “her” kids exchange presents.
“There’s more.” She tells us. Reid pulls the rest of the tissue paper from the box and pulls out a black onesie, across which is emblazoned in bright red letters, ‘I’m a Rock Star’.
Reid’s low, grumbling chuckle vibrates against my back. “That’s more like it, Mel.”
We spend the rest of the morning opening gifts and joking around with each other. For Momma, Mel and me, it’s the standard Christmas morning. A few articles of clothing, some movies, our favorite perfume, and even though we’re beyond grateful to have the opportunity to do this for one another, I know that this is how Christmas is supposed to be.
