thirteen: hidden secrets pt. 1
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Melanie walks around the grocery store, her eyes scanning each section before she reaches for the vanilla cookie wafers. She's currently on the phone with Zara as she makes her way through the store. As she listens to her friend talk to her grandma on the other end, she stands on her tippy toes and grabs a few boxes of the cookie wafers. Melanie tosses them in the cart and begins to walk further down the aisle with her phone against her ear. As she waits for Zara to speak again, to let her know she's not extremely busy with helping with the thanksgiving dinner with her momma and grandma, she continues her trip around the market buying things for the banana pudding for her family's thanksgiving dinner. She decided to go out, using her mother's car, to get everything and prepare the banana pudding instead of having her mother do it.
Of course, her mother being the super mom that she is with juggling, her baby brothers, cooking thanksgiving dinner, and decorating the house before the rest of the family show up.
Melanie wanted to help out and do some work with the food preparation for thanksgiving and helping her watch the twins. She knew Damien, her step-father, wasn't going to help at all, he was one of those men who don't know the basics of cooking, and the simple fact that his wife needs some help even if she says she doesn't. He was just 'chilling' in the basement with his brothers who showed up early to not help out. It didn't matter, she was here to help her momma despite her step-father and her step-fathers brothers being useless.
She was actually really happy to be back in her hometown. It had been a while since she walked around in her local food market. The last time she was at the market was when she was in her last year of high school. Even so, it felt nice and comfortable to be back in her hometown, and seeing some familiar places.
"Do you think Malik is coming?"
Zara's question, breaking through the tapestry of Melanie's thoughts, causes her to pause in the dairy aisle. With an involuntary hum, Melanie surveys her surroundings, her gaze landing upon the pudding selections. She tosses a bunch of pudding cups packs and tosses them in the cart. Zara's inquiry, unexpected yet timely, gives voice to Melanie's own ponderings as she considers her older brother's attendance.
Melanie releases a sigh, her response tinged with a blend of optimism and uncertainty. "I'm keeping my hopes up. I did reach out to him, letting him know I'd be back home. I'll just have to see if he decides to make an appearance."
Zara's humming voice carries the undertone of bustling activity, the gentle backdrop of running water a testament to her involvement in the culinary process. "Do you think he'll bring, you know who?"
Melanie had never taken issue with her brother's wife, Cassandra. When their paths initially crossed, Cassandra had been amiable. Melanie had even exchanged numbers and other contact details with her. However, despite these exchanges, their conversations had remained quite sparse. Melanie noted Cassandra's striking beauty: her tall stature, long brown hair, fair complexion, and the captivating green eyes that held a unique charm. Cassandra didn't exactly fit the mold of the women her brother typically gravitated toward. In high school, he had often been drawn to athletic types, particularly those on her track team or the basketball squad.
Melanie could still recall the time her brother implored her to help him acquire the phone number of one of her track teammates for a potential conversation. Melanie's existing friendship with the girl made the exchange possible. So, when her older brother returned from military service with a partner who was a far cry from his usual choices, and someone Melanie had not known beforehand, the situation felt rather awkward.
Cassandra displayed an affable nature around everyone, well, almost everyone. Her warmth seemed to extend exclusively to Melanie, Tasha, their mother, and Damien. However, things took an unexpected turn when Malik began bringing Cassandra to family gatherings. Gradually, Cassandra's behavior changed—she became distant, exchanging hushed conversations with Melanie's brother and making uncomfortably offensive remarks directed at her aunts, uncles, and cousins. This stark contrast to her previous demeanor left a sour taste in Melanie's mouth.
The situation escalated when Malik took a staunch stance, defending his wife's actions and even issuing a veiled ultimatum: if the family couldn't embrace Cassandra, he wouldn't attend gatherings anymore, irrespective of the fact that Cassandra's conduct was at issue. The twist was that Melanie and their mother initially harbored positive feelings toward Cassandra, regardless of her racial background. They did not care that she was white. They loved Cassandra, but that love turned bitter and cold.
The bitter love for her came from Cassandra's inconsiderate comments at that family gathering. It seemed that Malik should have taken the opportunity to address her behavior, to acknowledge that her comments were out of line. Instead, he chose to prioritize his loyalty to his wife over his family's concerns, creating a divide between them.
"I hope not," Melanie sighs in response to Zara's inquiry, her steps now leading her to the section brimming with vibrant fresh fruits and vegetables. The memory of the previous year's Thanksgiving looms in her mind. "Remember when my auntie found out Cassandra was joining us? She and my cousins decided to sit it out. We ended up with a surplus of food. You remember, right? I brought so much back to our old dorm."
A chuckle escapes Zara's lips, her voice holding the echo of shared amusement. "Oh yeah, we ate like royalty for a whole week. Those leftovers were a blessing. It's a shame we had to switch dorms. Our old one had its perks—remember the microwave and mini fridge?"
Melanie laughs in agreement, deftly shifting her phone to her other ear as she fills plastic bags with ripe bananas, placing them gently in her cart. "I kept telling you, we could've bought a mini fridge and a microwave for our new place."
Zara playfully drags out her words in response, laughter tinging her voice. "Girl, come on now. There's no point in that. It's my final year, and we won't be roommates after this."
Melanie lets out a soft whine, the lamentation quietly escaping her lips as she's confronted by the swiftness of their final year together. The realization that the days are slipping through their fingers, each one leading them closer to the inevitable separation, stirs a mixture of emotions within her. She can't help but wonder how she'll navigate the university without Zara and Angel by her side—their guiding presence, their shared laughter, and the reassurance of their camaraderie. Their impending absence gnaws at her, the prospect of stepping into a world where their familiar voices won't be just a call away is a daunting thought.
"Yeah," Melanie responds with a tinge of bitterness coloring her tone, her sigh a poignant sigh of resignation. The weight of their impending separation is a burden she feels keenly. "I'm going to feel so lost without you."
Zara's laughter dances through the line, a bittersweet melody that tickles Melanie's ear. "Come on, Melanie. You know you can hit me up anytime, right? Don't get all melodramatic on me now, boo."
Melanie's lips quirk into a half-hearted smile, though the pang of truth lies just beneath the surface. Zara's words offer comfort, yet they can't fully dispel the sense of emptiness that awaits her. She understands that life moves forward, that Zara's graduation is a triumph to be celebrated. But beneath her happiness for her friend lies an undercurrent of impending loss.
"I know," Melanie concedes, her voice a gentle admission of her own vulnerability. "It's just... the closer we get to the end of this school year, the more a sense of fear and sadness creeps in. I can't help it." She finds herself in the middle of the fresh fruits aisle, her steps stilled as she subconsciously clings to her phone, Zara's voice providing a lifeline in the midst of her mixed emotions. A subtle pout tugs at her lip, an unconscious reflection of the melancholy she's trying to put into words.
Zara's laughter, like a carefree melody, breaks through the heaviness of the moment. "Mel, come on now. You'll still have Leon. He's right there in the city, and you're practically BFFs with all his friends too," she chimes, her words infused with an undeniable levity.
"Leon?" Melanie repeats, the playfulness of Zara's tone contagious as she echoes the name.
"Leon?" Zara mockingly echoes back, and Melanie can't help but burst into laughter. "Yes, Leon! We caught yall asses all cozy in bed. I swear if we didn't walk in you two would've kissed. Did y'all kiss?"
Melanie rolls her eyes, a good-natured sigh accompanying her response. "Seriously, Zara? No, we weren't kissing or touching. We were just... talking. And honestly, I'm not even sure I'm Leon's type."
Zara seizes the opportunity to infuse a dash of sarcasm, her words dancing with playful mockery. "Oh, but wait, you're Miko the mechanic type, right?" The sarcasm practically drips from her words, coaxing another eye roll from Melanie.
"You are so annoying sometimes," Melanie quips, her smile palpable in her tone. Their banter is like a well-choreographed dance, a reflection of the camaraderie that's solidified over the years.
"But you still love me, boo." Zara retorts, her laughter dancing on the edges of her words.
Melanie's grin widens, a testament to the truth in Zara's statement. "True."
In the heart of the fresh fruits aisle, an unassuming moment gains significance, encapsulating the depth of their friendship—an unbreakable bond that stands strong amidst the approaching changes. Their laughter intertwines with the uncertainty of the future, a perfect fusion of comfort and companionship. Yet, amidst this familiarity, Melanie's thoughts venture into uncharted territory. She ponders the nature of her connection with Miko, wondering if she fits the mold of his ideal partner, if he even has a mold at all.
"I don't really know," Melanie admits, her voice a soft murmur amid the bustling store ambiance. "I mean, I'm aware he's attracted to me."
A chuckle breezes through the phone, carrying Zara's playful insistence. "And you're attracted to him, let's not forget that part."
Melanie smiles wryly, even though her friend can't see it. Zara has a way of speaking her thoughts, often voicing what Melanie hasn't quite put into words herself. But the uncertainty lingers, casting a shadow over her thoughts. "Yeah, but it's more complicated than that. I can't quite pin down his intentions."
As she continues her journey through the store, Melanie's cart eventually leads her to a selection of containers suitable for holding the banana pudding. She picks a good-sized one with a satisfied nod. "We talked on the phone last night," she divulges, her voice betraying a hint of playfulness. "And I'll share the details later, but I must admit, there was a moment when I was really tempted to do something I've never done before."
Zara's curiosity is palpable in her response, her voice a chorus of intrigue. "Oh? Now you can't just leave me hanging like that."
Melanie chuckles, the memory bringing a warm flush to her cheeks. "I promise I'll fill you in later. But you know what? I've really come to enjoy his voice. We had a tempting conversation. Here's hoping we get to talk again tonight, maybe pick up where we left off" Melanie's laughter dances through the airwaves, a testament to the evolving connection that has slowly taken root between her and Miko.
Zara's voice shifts, and a distant rustling can be heard on the other end of the line. The anticipation in her tone is palpable before she gasps dramatically. "Melanie!"
Caught off guard by Zara's reaction, Melanie instinctively pulls the phone away from her ear before quickly returning it. "What?" Her curiosity is piqued, and she braces herself for whatever revelation Zara is about to share.
"You had phone sex?!" Zara's gasp is punctuated by a mix of shock and amusement, causing Melanie's eyes to widen in sheer astonishment.
Melanie's response is quick, her voice a hushed rush of words. "What? No, Zara! We absolutely did not—"
Zara's laughter bubbles through the line, contagious and uncontainable. "Wow, I'm shocked!"
Realizing the misunderstanding, Melanie lets out a nervous sigh, covering her face at her friend's words, feeling more embarrassed. "Zara, no! That's not what happened at all!"
Melanie rolls her eyes, her eyes glancing around the section she's in from embarrassment. "I mean, I was tempted to try, but I was way too tired."
When Melanie woke up in the morning she was so embarrassed. The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across Melanie's brother's childhood room. As her eyes fluttered open, the events of the previous night came rushing back to her, and her hands covered her face, trying to hide from embarrassment. She mentally cursed herself for hastily ending the call with Miko, especially when they were engaged in such an animated conversation. Melanie's heart raced as she replayed their discussion in her mind—the simple conversation turned sexually tempting so fast.
Lying there in bed, she grappled with her own feelings. Something had compelled her to disconnect, as though a force beyond her control had pulled her away from the conversation. She wondered if it was her genuine fatigue that had prompted her to end things or if a deeper apprehension was at play. The truth was, Melanie had never ventured into the realm of true intimacy. She had never shared a real, passionate kiss or engaged in sexual encounters—although she did own a vibrator that she occasionally used in moments of solitude.
Her experiences were limited and her inhibitions many.
Now, with Miko in the picture, she found herself navigating uncharted waters. The tall, mysterious man had entered her life like a whirlwind, and she was left grappling with unfamiliar emotions. Sexual emotions. Melanie felt a peculiar blend of attraction and uncertainty. The experience felt reminiscent of her middle school days, a time of innocent crushes, butterflies, and nervous giggles. Yet, this wasn't just a simple crush; Miko was a living, breathing sexy man that she couldn't quite decipher.
Throughout her life, she had often been told by conventional attractive men that she was "just Melanie." While she had never fully understood the implications of those words, she took them to mean that she simply wasn't their type. Suddenly, Miko appeared on the scene, offering compliments, making bold moves, and showering her with the kind of attention she had secretly craved. It was as if he had unlocked a part of herself that she had kept hidden away, and now that vulnerability made her feel exposed, unsteady. Melanie remembers she didn't get out of bed quickly, she was just laying there in bed, the weight of her thoughts resting heavily upon her. The complexities of attraction, intimacy, and self-discovery swirled within her, leaving her both intrigued and nervous.
"Bullshit, Mel," Zara declares with a knowing laugh that transcends the phone line. "You can't fool me, boo. You definitely weren't tired when you were on the phone with him."
Melanie sighs in resignation, realizing that Zara can always see right through her. "Okay, maybe I wasn't genuinely tired, but I did feel sort of sleepy. His voice is, like, a sleepy time medicine. It's soothing. But, I didn't want to dive into something sexual with him just yet. I need to be absolutely certain about these things."
Zara's curiosity sparks, her voice laced with intrigue. "Certain about what?"
Melanie glances around her room instinctively, ensuring privacy before continuing in a hushed tone. "Like him being clean? He does sleep with other people. I want to be safe."
"Melanie it's just phone sex, it's not like he's actually sticking anything in you. Unless you stick something in yourself—"
"Zara!" Melanie whines quickly, squatting near her cart, covering her face with her hands. "I wasn't just talking about that, I meant in general!"
"Ooh, look at you jumping the gun." She laughs again, making Melanie sigh in her hand, feeling her face becoming hot, even though she wasn't visibly blushing, she was definitely embarrassed.
Melanie couldn't even comprehend how their conversation changed from one topic to another. How their conversation went from talking about Melanie's brother to Miko. She shakes her head and stands from the floor and continues to walk to the checkout line.
"I'll talk to you later, Zara." Melanie tells her, amusement covering her tone. "I'm about to check out right now."
"Yeah, right," she teases. "You're going to be too busy letting Miko listen to your sweet quiet moaning"
Melanie rolls her eyes and shakes her head, amusement covering her voice. "Bye, Zara!"
"Bye, boo." Zara says right before Melanie hangs up the phone.
As she waits in line, she looks around the store, her gaze sweeping over the aisles packed with shoppers, carts overflowing with Thanksgiving essentials. The atmosphere is charged with a mix of excitement and a touch of chaos, fitting for the holiday rush.
Once she reaches the cash register, a tired yet friendly clerk awaits her, his fingers idly tapping on the counter. She begins placing her selected items onto the conveyor belt, the rhythmic sound of the beeping scanner punctuating the background noise of conversations and rustling bags. As her items move forward, she observes the clerk more closely. He appears strangely familiar, a sense of déjà vu tugging at her thoughts, but she can't quite place where she might have seen him before.
He starts scanning her items, the monotony of his task evident in his distant gaze, yet his expression suddenly changes. His eyes flicker with a mix of surprise and recognition, and he tilts his head as if trying to confirm his suspicions. "Mockingbird?" he utters, the word carrying a hint of disbelief.
The nickname resonates in her mind, triggering a cascade of memories that rush back in an instant. She locks eyes with the grocery clerk, searching his features for confirmation. "Kennedy?" she responds, the disbelief now mirrored in her own voice.
A knowing smile tugs at his lips, and he nods as if connecting dots across the years. "Damn, you grew up! I didn't even recognize you! How's your mom?" His hands move with practiced efficiency, bagging her groceries as he waits for her response. The pace seems deliberately unhurried, as if he's savoring this unexpected reunion.
Kenndy was more than just a footnote in her past. He was her mother's ex-boyfriend, a figure who had played a significant role in her childhood. Her thoughts drift back to those days, a time when he was a young man of twenty-eight and her mother was thirty-four, just six years older than him. Despite the age gap, Kenndy had been a source of fun and companionship, a presence she had regarded as a fatherly figure. Yet, their story had ended with her mother's tears, and an unspoken mystery had shrouded the reasons behind their breakup.
As the last items are bagged, she moves her cart toward the card reader, her mind racing to process the flood of emotions and memories. She swipes her card, and as she pulls her car forward to finish the transaction, she notices Kenndy's head tilting slightly, a gesture that's both quizzical and reminiscent of an old inside joke.
"Uh," Melanie begins, momentarily taken aback by the rush of feelings. "She's fine, married now," she answers, her voice steadying.
Kenndy chuckles softly, handing her the receipt while his eyes hold a mix of warmth and nostalgia. "I'm happy for her. But man, wow! You look so different, all grown up. I remember when you were that sixth grader who couldn't leave my side no matter what."
His laughter triggers echoes of long-forgotten moments, tugging at the edges of her consciousness. "Were you and my momma together that long?" she asks, her curiosity pushing her to unravel a past she thought she understood.
Kennedy smiles, his eyes reflective, a trace of wistfulness clouding his expression. He closes his line, a quiet acknowledgment that their exchange holds a significance beyond the rush of the store. Gathering the bags, he motions towards the market's exit, wordlessly offering to carry the burden of groceries to her car.
"Yeah," he begins as they walk towards her car, a hint of nostalgia coloring his voice. "She didn't officially bring me into you and your brother's life until you moved from the fifth grade to the sixth. I just remember when I was around, you were stuck to me like glue." The memories he evokes are like fragments of a puzzle, pieces that don't quite fit together in her mind.
"Unfortunately, your mother misunderstood some things, and our relationship ended," he continues, his tone carrying a mix of regret and acceptance. As he carefully loads the bags into the back seat, his words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions. "I was so hurt, but when you love someone so much, you have to let them go."
Melanie's confusion deepens, her mind a whirlwind of questions and incomplete recollections. This unexpected encounter has shattered the neat narrative she had constructed about Kenndy and her mother's past. She hadn't anticipated the flood of feelings that this chance meeting would stir up, nor the revelation that the past was far more complex than she had ever known.
She watches as Kenndy completes the task, his motions deliberate yet gentle, much like the mannerisms she recalls from her childhood. Her thoughts circle back to the fading memories she's trying to grasp, the memories that seem to hide just beyond her reach. Why do some moments with him remain so vivid, while others are shrouded in a fog of forgetfulness?
Melanie remembers he was around, and he was the boyfriend, but she couldn't remember much about him or what he did when he was around. Why were her memories of him so blurred? What happened?
"Well," he chuckles, placing his hand on her head and weirdly caresses her cheek, in a way you would do to a small child. "Mockingbird, it was nice to see you again. I'll be moving away by the end of the week to another city."
Melanie anxious moved her face away from his hand, and clenched her bag clearing her throat. She was uncomfortable. "Oh, r-really?"
She didn't know why she was standing here talking to the man. Maybe she didn't want to seem uncomfortable, so he wouldn't get defensive or suspicious.
"Yeah," he says enthusiastically. "Tell your mother and brother I said hi, hopefully we see each other again, mockingbird."
As he speaks, Melanie finds her gaze drawn to his features once more, taking in the changes that time has etched onto his face. He stands a few inches taller than her, his physique bearing the evidence of years passed. His well-defined muscles hint at a life that has moved forward, even as her memories remain suspended in a foggy past. His once-curly blond hair now carries streaks of gray and white, a reminder of the passage of time.
His brown eyes scan over her face, his smile genuine yet tinged with something she can't quite place. It's a look that speaks of recognition and shared history, but also holds a layer of something unspoken. With a final nod, he turns on his heel and walks back into the bustling market, leaving her standing by her car, her thoughts in disarray.
The encounter leaves her with a sense of disquiet, a feeling that the pieces of her past aren't aligning as neatly as she once believed. The familiarity she thought she'd find in this reunion has only deepened the mystery. The emotions stirred up by Kennedy's presence, his words, are more complex than she could have anticipated. It's a jumble of nostalgia, curiosity, and a growing realization that there might be parts of her history that have been intentionally obscured.
As she drives away from the market, bags of groceries in the back seat, Melanie's mind races. She's left with a lingering unease, a sense that there's more to the story than what she remembers. The impending conversation with her mother and step-father, and now this. There's just so much to talk about and she was ready to talk about it. With a determined sigh, Melanie steers her car towards the neighborhood she grew up in.
Once she steps inside the familiar warmth of her childhood home, Melanie kicks off her snow-covered boots by the entrance and breathes in deeply, savoring the enticing aroma of food that fills the air. "Momma! I'm back!" she calls out, her voice carrying a mix of excitement and relief.
Her footsteps echo as she moves further into the house, the large living room coming into view. Her eyes immediately gravitate towards her two younger brothers, Jeremiah and Jaiden, who are sitting on the floor in their adorable Thanksgiving outfits, engrossed in a game with colorful blocks. Melanie's lips curl into a fond smile as she crouches down, placing the bags of groceries to the side and extending her arms.
At the sight of their older sister, the twins let out delighted squeals, their faces lighting up as they begin to crawl towards her. Melanie can't help but coo at their joyful innocence, gathering them into her embrace as they reach her. She revels in the affectionate moment, her heart warming at their presence. "Where's mommy, hm?" she playfully asks her little brothers, receiving a symphony of toddler gibberish in response before they wriggle free from her grasp and return to their play.
With a gentle chuckle, Melanie stands up, picking up the bags of groceries once more and making her way deeper into the house. As she enters the kitchen, a wave of heat engulfs her, accompanied by a symphony of delectable scents. The air is tinged with the mingling aromas of various colognes and perfumes, a testament to the gathering of family members for the festive occasion.
"Ah! Is that my Melanie!" her grandmother exclaims, her voice laced with a mixture of happiness and surprise.
Melanie laughs awkwardly and her gaze shifts to her mother, who is engaged in conversation on the far side of the bustling kitchen. Her stepfather stands close behind her, his arms enveloping her in a loving embrace as they interact with uncles, aunts, and other relatives.
"Ooo, my baby done grown up with some hips," her grandma laughs, her jovial tone a comforting melody that resonates through the kitchen. She affectionately pats Melanie's butt as she releases her from the embrace, a gesture that carries years of familiarity and endearment. "Runs in the family."
As Melanie tries to walk to the counter, to put the bags down, her aunty Vanessa turns around from the conversation with her mother and step-father and walks towards Melanie with open arms. She pulls her into a big hug, kissing her cheek before holding her hand, looking at her, making her turn around, feeling more on the spot and embarrassed. "Now you know she got our genes, right Tasha?"
"Leave my baby alone!" Her mother saves her from the public embarrassment, pulling her away from her aunty.
"She ain't your baby no more! What is she? Like eighteen now?" Melanie looks at her uncle Phillip and shakes her head politely.
"No, I'm twenty-two."
"Damn! You grown now! You can drink and shit!" He laughs hugging Melanie before her mother successfully pulls her away from everyone and behind the counter island so she can help her with the banana pudding.
"Cut the bananas, Melanie," her mother's voice resonated in the warm kitchen, prompting Melanie to comply with a nod. She washed her hands meticulously, a cascade of water cleansing her fingers of any impurities, before she retrieved a cutting board and a knife from the drawers. The kitchen's soft lighting played upon the silver utensils as she arranged them, ready to perform her task. Just as she was about to begin, a sudden grip on her arm startled her, and a shiver crawled down her spine.
Her step-father stood beside her, his presence overwhelming as he leaned in close, his voice a whisper that made her flinch instinctively. "Let me help your mother; you go watch the boys."
Startled but obedient, Melanie turned to him, relinquishing the knife and cutting board into his outstretched hand. A forced smile formed on her lips as she glanced around the room, meeting everyone's gaze before she slipped away. Family gatherings, once a source of childish delight, now carried an air of discomfort and awkwardness in her adult years. Her past ignorance shielded her from the undertones of their comments and conversations. Now, armed with a grown-up understanding, their words took on new dimensions, rendering the gatherings less enjoyable.
"Jeremiah. Jaiden," she called out softly to her younger brothers, engrossed in their playthings. Kneeling gracefully, Melanie adjusted her knitted dress and settled between the boys. Jaiden's cup was raised toward her, a mischievous glint in his eyes. She chuckled softly, her eyes rolling in playful exasperation. "Now you're thirsty?"
His confusion was apparent, a wrinkle forming on his forehead before transforming into a pout. Melanie countered his expression with playful sounds, culminating in a gentle kiss on his forehead. As she rose, she assured them, "Stay right here; I'll be back."
Not to neglect her other brother, she grabbed Jeremiah's cup before reentering the kitchen. The scene had shifted; the adults were now engrossed in a card game, her mother and grandmother engaged in conversation. Melanie moved with purpose toward the refrigerator, inadvertently catching snippets of her mother's dialogue.
"It's like I don't know my own daughter," her mother's words drifted to her ears, a sotto voce murmur that struck a chord.
Suppressing an eye roll, Melanie added ice to the sippy cups, her actions less gentle than usual as she intentionally drew attention. The cups clanked against the countertop, her method of forcing her mother's acknowledgment. The effect was immediate as her mother's voice chimed in, "Oh! Damn, I forgot the twins were in there by themselves."
With a half-hearted smile, Melanie brushed off the concern. "Momma, it's fine. They're playing with their toys. Just getting them some juice."
"Make sure you water it down. We're trying to get them to drink more water," her mother advised, tucking away the container and tidying up.
"Melanie, baby," her grandma's voice called, drawing her away from her task. Melanie looked up, her attention captured by the matriarch's gaze.
"Yes, ma'am."
Together, they fetched water for the youngest family members. Her grandma's presence offered a temporary respite from the bustling kitchen. "You know you're stressing your momma," her grandmother said, her voice carrying years of wisdom and understanding.
Melanie sighed inwardly, her gaze focused on closing the twins' cups. "I'm not doing it on purpose, grandma."
Exiting the kitchen, her grandmother walked alongside her into the living room. With the twins settled and occupied, her grandmother took a seat on the couch, her movements unhurried and graceful. Melanie followed suit, sitting upright with poise as she listened to the older woman's counsel, her heart open to the connection they shared.
"I understand," her grandmother replied with a warm smile, tapping Melanie's knee gently. "But you are her only daughter. She's just worried about you, baby."
This conversation with her grandmother took Melanie by surprise, but it seemed her mother had expressed her concerns to her. "There's nothing to worry about, grandma. I have friends who make sure I'm doing well."
Her grandmother shook her head, tapping her hand again in a reassuring manner. "You have to understand where the worry comes from, especially when you've been through so much as a little girl. She blames herself for it. She just wants to protect you and keep you safe."
Melanie's face twisted into a slight frown. "Been through so much? What are you talking about?"
Before her grandmother could elaborate, the doorbell chimed, diverting their attention. Melanie glanced at her grandmother before rising from the couch to answer the door. When it swung open, her heart skipped a beat.
"Malik!" she exclaimed, a mixture of surprise and joy bubbling within her. She jumped into her big brother's arms, holding him tightly, momentarily reverting to the younger version of herself, bidding him farewell as he left for the Navy.
Her brother embraced her in return, chuckling warmly. Dressed in his navy uniform, he radiated a sense of responsibility and maturity. It dawned on Melanie that he must be back for Thanksgiving as well.
"You're never too old for this, Melanie," he teased, gently setting her back on the floor. Laughter lingered in his eyes as he surveyed her. "Look at you."
"I'll always hug you like this," Melanie retorted, sticking her tongue out playfully. Her heart swelled with affection for her brother, a sentiment shared by the rest of the family who had now gathered in the living room.
"I wouldn't have it any other way," he said, his tone filled with warmth. He lifted their little brothers into his arms, drawing smiles from the room's occupants. But the atmosphere shifted when his companion, Cassandra, appeared from behind him, causing some smiles to fade and the room to hush.
Amid the sudden silence, Malik held their younger siblings close before placing them into Damien's care. Melanie sensed the tension in the air, her intuition telling her that not everyone welcomed Cassandra's presence with open arms. However, Melanie's mother managed to regain her smile, hugging Cassandra gently before gasping.
Her brother stepped closer to Cassandra, placing a protective hand on her stomach. "She's pregnant."
The announcement prompted exclamations of congratulations from around the room, with Damien being the first to voice his well wishes. Melanie was taken aback, considering the relatively small age gap between her and Malik. She marveled at her brother's youthful decision to start a family already.
"She's five months along now," Malik shared with a smile, leaning in to kiss Cassandra's head before heading toward the kitchen. "Smells amazing in here, Mom."
Cassandra settled onto the couch with the help of Melanie's mother, while Melanie took a seat next to her. The aunt and uncles rejoined the kitchen crowd, leaving Melanie alone with Cassandra—a situation she didn't particularly mind.
"How's college life treating you?" Cassandra inquired, a gentle smile playing on her lips.
Melanie nodded, a sense of accomplishment shining in her eyes. "Pretty well, actually. My GPA is better than I expected."
Cassandra chuckled softly, her hand resting on her stomach. "I'm not talking about grades, sweetie. I'm talking about parties and relationships. You must have college boys knocking at your dorm room door."
Melanie laughed and shook her head, leaning her cheek against her hand. "Please."
As they conversed, sharing laughter over various topics, Malik re-entered the room, helping Cassandra to her feet. "We're setting the table; come on, love," he encouraged.
Cassandra's smile brightened, and she reached for Melanie's older brother's hand, leading him toward the kitchen. Melanie followed suit, joining the effort of setting the table. Soon, everyone gathered around the dining table, taking their seats after a heartfelt grace from her grandmother. Plates were filled with food, and the evening flowed with laughter, old stories, and drinks. Melanie indulged in one glass of tequila before abstaining.
As the night grew later and people began to pack leftover food, Melanie assisted her mother in putting the twins to bed. This quiet moment allowed them a private connection, a chance for Melanie to offer her mother the assurance she needed.
"Momma?"
Her mother's gentle hum accompanied her as she massaged sleepy time lotion onto Jeremiah's skin. "Yes?"
A lump formed in Melanie's throat, the tension of the moment weighing heavily as she continued. "Grandma mentioned something to me, about you blaming yourself for what happened to me when I was a kid?" Melanie's gaze fixed on her mother, who looked utterly terrified. "What's wrong?"
Her mother's eyes welled up, tears glistening as she excused herself from the room abruptly, leaving Melanie alone with Jeremiah, who had already succumbed to sleep. Melanie covered them both with blankets, her mind swirling with concern over her mother's intense reaction.
As she activated the night light and baby monitor, Melanie left her little brother's room, venturing down the hallway to her mother's room. By now, most of the family had departed, leaving only Melanie, her mother, the twins, and Damien behind. She hesitated by her mother's door, inadvertently eavesdropping on a conversation between her mother and step-father, the words carrying just enough through the partially open door.
"She asked. She asked about it," her mother's voice trembled with sobs, sending a pang of sympathy through Melanie's heart. "You don't think she's remembering. I thought she forgot."
Damien's voice responded, tender and soothing. "Babe, it's time we tell her. She deserves to know. Let's rest for now, and we can talk tomorrow. We also need to discuss her being at that school and everything else."
"I don't care about that... this will break her!" Her mother's words came out as a loud cry, and Melanie's step-father shushed her gently.
A chill crept down Melanie's spine as she retreated slowly from the door, her mind racing to process the implications of what she had just overheard. She returned to her own room, closing the door softly and locking it. She sank to the floor, pressing her hands against her closed eyelids, attempting to recall fragments of a past she had seemingly forgotten. Questions swirled in her mind, each more urgent than the last.
Why had her mother reacted so strongly? What was the incident from her childhood that she had apparently forgotten? And why was there a hidden secret, one that her mother seemed determined to keep hidden even as Melanie yearned for answers? The tension in the air felt thicker than ever, shrouding the room in an almost suffocating unease. Melanie knew she couldn't ignore the truth any longer—it was time to confront her mother about it.
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