Page 65 of The Charmed Friends of Trove Isle
Melody closed her menu. “Okay. Then I’ll have the special too. I just hope it’s not frog legs or something like that.”
“That’s only on Tuesdays,” he said. “Since today is Thursday, you should be fine.”
Melody couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. She certainly hoped so. Fortunately, the special turned out to be roasted lemon chicken and asparagus sautéed in an alfredo cream sauce. It was delicious and the conversation was equally appealing.
“You don’t have to pay,” Melody said at the end when her father placed his debit card on the bill tray and handed it to the waitress.
“You’re my only date in over a decade. This is on me.”
Melody fidgeted nervously with her napkin. “Thank you.”
“Of course.”
Once they’d left the restaurant, they returned to her father’s vehicle. She thought they were going back to his house, but her dad made a detour to a flower shop on Seagull Street.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m getting two bouquets of flowers, if you don’t mind. I typically stop here once a week to get some flowers for your mom and your sister. Maybe you’ll come with me this time.”
“To the cemetery?” Melody was surprised by this information. “Sure. I guess so.”
He stepped out, walked into the shop, and returned within five minutes with two bouquets of wildflowers.
“You really go to their graves once a week?” Melody asked as he veered back onto the road and drove in the direction of the town’s main cemetery.
“I try to. I might miss a week if it’s storming or if there’s ice on the ground.”
“That’s really nice, Dad.”
“You sound surprised.”
She was. Her father didn’t even have photographs of her mom or Alyssa out in the house. She’d assumed he had forgotten about them or more likely, that he didn’t want to think about them. But he hadn’t forgotten any more than Melody had.
A few minutes later, her father parked again. Melody pushed her car door open and walked around the vehicle to catch up to her father. The sun-dried grass crunched beneath their feet as they walked through the cemetery. They stepped onto the sidewalk and followed a path that Melody hadn’t been down since she was eighteen years old.
“Here.” Her father handed her the bouquet. “You put these on Alyssa’s grave.”
Melody held the wildflowers in her hands. Reflexively, she tipped her nose into the bundle and breathed them in. She’d brought flowers to Alyssa on the opening night of a high school play that Alyssa had starred in. Alyssa had acted like Melody had given her a thousand bucks. She’d practically crushed the bouquet in the middle of the hug she’d given Melody.
“You’re the best sister ever!”she’d said, on a rush of theatrical adrenaline.
“You say that now. Just wait until the next time you’re mad at me.”
Alyssa laughed and shook her head.“Sisters get mad at each other, but it never changes the fact that we’re family. Family sticks together. You’re stuck with me, forever.”
Forever.
Who knew how short that would be?
Melody approached the granite headstone. It was simple, which just felt wrong for Alyssa. Nothing about Melody’s younger sister had ever been simple. Alyssa was complicated and dramatic. She was bursting with color and energy—even at night. Melody remembered that her sister would toss restlessly in bed, having difficulty winding down because she was go-go-go all the time.
Alyssa would whisper across their dark bedroom to Melody,“Psst. Are you awake?”
“I am now,”Melody would groan.“I have school tomorrow. So do you. Go to bed.”
Melody had taken on a bit of a motherly role after their mother died. They’d had their Great-aunt Jo to step in sometimes, but Jo didn’t live with them. Melody was the one who’d been there when Alyssa had gotten her period. No way their father could have ever handled that well. He seemed clueless about raising girls. Melody had taught Alyssa about tampons and shaving her legs. At least Jo had done the honors of telling them both about sex. Jo had waited until Melody was sixteen though, and unfortunately high school sex ed class had beaten Jo to the punch.
Melody’s father had taken a shot at that lesson too. His only words on the matter were:“Just don’t have it.”
