The Italian's proposal

Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Melody

Devina was smiling and Melody couldn’t believe that, in her hands, was a check for that amount of money.

“Take it,” she told her holding her hands out to her.

“No...I...”

“Don’t say no. No person should be forced into marriage,” her logic was impossible to dispute. But, still, she couldn’t accept that much from a stranger, no matter how much her heart screamed at her that she could trust her.

“You’re right. But I don’t know you. Neither do you know me,” she handed the check back to her and stepped back, “I think we should save lunch for later. I’m exhausted.”

“Melody,” Devina couldn’t believe it, nor could she.

“I just can’t. I really, really don’t know how much I appreciate it. I have no idea how much money you have, nor do I care to know how you got it. That’s not my problem. But you can’t go giving three million dollars to someone you don’t know,” she sat up in bed, she was dizzy, and her head was starting to pound.

“I’m giving you the money you need to get the hell out. To be free,” she followed her steps and sat down next to her. “Look honey, no one should have to suffer and pay for something they didn’t do. The guilty ones, the ones who do harm, those should have a hard time, they should rot in jail. I’m sure you’ve been trying to make Timothy understand that you didn’t do anything, or am I wrong?”

Melody squeezed her temples. She was right. But it was still too much money.

“It’s a lot of money,” she mumbled in annoyance. “It’s too much. I wouldn’t even know how to begin to repay you.” She couldn’t believe she was even considering it. But taking that money was a better alternative than....

She looked at Devina who was watching her determined that she would accept the money.

Would it be possible?

“He sent you,” she told her finally realizing it.

“What?” the redhead stood up from the bed as if it had thorns everywhere.

“You heard me. He sent you, didn’t he? Let’s see if I’m dumb enough to take the money. You want to see if I’ll take off with the money?” she also got out of bed and without thinking she slapped Devina across the cheek.

She almost fell for it, what a fool she had been! She almost had trusted Devina, without knowing her.

“You’re crazy! Insane!” she said, putting her hand on the area that was beginning to redden. “I only came to help you, because I don’t think you stole from Timothy, I’m just trying to help!”

“Crazy? You think I’m crazy? Come near me again and I’ll gouge your fucking eyes out with a fork,” the threat was harsher than she would have believed.

“No one sent me,” Devina told her with flashing green eyes.

“I’m not as stupid as Timothy thinks I am. I’d appreciate it if you’d close the door on your way out.”

She grabbed her side purse that sat on top of the nightstand, the cell phone Timothy had given her earlier that morning, assuring her that he wanted her available at any time of day. She resented the

situation as no one could imagine, but it was what she had been dealt.

Or so she thought.

She left the room, passing Devina’s side. She prayed to God she hadn’t made a mistake with the redhead, but she would never trust anyone lightly again. She trusted her brother-in-law for years and look at the situation he got her into.

Devina didn’t call out to her at any point, she didn’t look back either. Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

She pushed the elevator button, determined to get out of the apartment.

She couldn’t stay there for another second.

If Timothy thought she was a thief, well, let him think so willingly.

She would leave. Even if she had to borrow from her parents, beg them to listen to her, she would.

The thought made her start to cry, as the elevator descended.

It was ridiculous to consider going to beg her parents, those who had slammed the door in her face.

But it was the only thing he could do.

“Where do you think you’re going?” said Timothy as the elevator doors opened and he saw her there.

“Go to hell, I’m sick of you, I’m sick of you not believing me!” she shoved him, catching him off guard, and stepped into the elevator. “Tell your sister-in-law she can stick her check where the sun doesn’t shine, damn it the day I crossed your path!”

Timothy stared at her dumbfounded, she noticed it in his green eyes, confusion gave way to anger, he turned his face in the direction of the room but couldn’t react in time. The elevator doors closed just as

he went to try to stop her.

She was already gone.

****

Two hours after wandering zombie-like through the streets of Manhattan, an ice cream, and a pack of popcorn in her stomach, Melody finally arrived at her parents’ house.

She stopped in front of the garden.

She didn’t know how to take the steps now that she was there.

What would he say? What would she say to make them believe her?

She was cold to death. And the decision of eating the ice cream didn’t help her at all. But she was craving it.

She tried to warm her arms, running her hands fervently up and down.

“Melody Redford. What are you supposed to wait in there?” Lydia Redford opened the door to the house that saw her grow. “You’re going to freeze little girl.”

Melody began to cry again, as she ran into her mother’s arms.

What did it matter that she didn’t share her decision to have her child, for a second, for a thousandth of a second, she wanted refuge in familiar arms. Ones that had cared for her and protected her all her life.

“Oh, my baby girl!” her mother wrapped her arms around her and squeezed her tight. Melody calmed down after a few minutes. “Come on inside Mel. You need to get warm. You’re freezing.”

They walked into the house, each one’s arms around the other’s back. Melody had missed her mother so much that, in her grief at not receiving her support, she hadn’t realized how much she missed her mother.

“Sit down, let me get you a coat,” her mother hurried out of the living room and Melody sat in the kitchen.

The whole thing made her feel like a stranger in her parents’ house.

“Here. Here,” she pulled a blanket over her and Melody immediately squeezed the fabric for extra warmth. “Would you like a cup of chocolate? Look how skinny you are!” her mother let a tear fall as she stroked her head, just like she used to do when Melody was a little girl. “How did you get so much worse in such a short time? You look sick. My poor silly baby.”

“Weren’t you going to get me some chocolate?” suddenly it didn’t feel so good to go to her parents’ house anymore. She was going to get their complaints, their; ‘I told you so you shouldn’t go through with the pregnancy’, ‘you must learn to have responsibilities and make good decisions’.

It was a waste of time.

But still, a part of her was screaming at her in a Mexican serenade voice, that she had nowhere else to go, at least not one that Timothy didn’t know about.

Her mother turned away from her and poured the cup of hot chocolate, with a little cinnamon on top, just the way Melody liked to drink it.

“You remembered to put cinnamon on it,” she was being a wanton crybaby, from those soap operas.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s been a week since you got the hell out of here. Not ten years,” there were always ways to make her cry more.

She hid her face in her hands and burst into tears again. She felt like her head was going to explode and her chest couldn’t take any more pain.

Devina was right about something. She liked Timothy, she saw something different in him, a willingness to help a stranger without asking for anything in return, a genuine and sincere look. He condemned lies and hated to be betrayed.

“Lydia! Lydia!” the voice of Charles Redford flooded through the house, grabbing the attention of mother and daughter.

Lydia bolted into the living room, startled by the imperious, frightened tone her father had employed.

Melody followed in her mother’s footsteps.

“What’s wrong? Are you all right, Charles?” she asked since she reached his office.

Charles was holding the newspaper in his hand, holding it as if this one had the news of the twin towers falling for the second time.

Melody trailed behind her mother; she didn’t want her father to know she was there, at least not when she could tell he was so angry. She who was already a cause for anger and disgust.

“She’s getting married! She’s getting married and she didn’t even invite us! The ungrateful girl has a date! I had to read about it in the newspaper.”

“But who? Who’s getting married? You must be exaggerating my dear,” she watched as her mother took the newspaper from her father and hurriedly read it. She put a hand to her chest and let out a shocked, “My God.”

Lydia turned to Melody and Melody took a step back, dropping the quilted cloth that made her warm, her hiding place had been removed. Now both parents were looking at her like she was scum.

“How dare you come here like this after this!” the first to burst out was her mother. “You come here, in your frumpy clothes, as if you’re still a teenager, as if you’re not a decent woman who’s going to have a child. You come here and instead of telling me you’re getting married; you ask me for chocolate. Don’t you eat with your fiancé? Why didn’t you start with the news that you were getting married?”

Melody stood there in one piece, staring from milestone to milestone. She had no idea what they were talking about, but what she did know was that she must have seen that newspaper her mother was holding. No one was supposed to know about her engagement, at least that’s what she had thought for days. Now there was Devina, and a thousand other people who read that paper.

“Give me that,” she didn’t mind snatching it away, maybe they already thought she wasn’t worth it.

She read quickly, skipping semicolons and commas, because on that occasion, grammar didn’t matter to her.

The headline almost made her throw up her popcorn: Young woman moves up the economic chain! She caught one of the richest! Another Giannato is getting married!

“What do you have to say Melody?” her father’s voice sounded distant to her. “Melody Redford, you better start talking.”

The threat was like the straw that broke the camel’s back. She was sick and tired of people using offensive words against her, belittling her, thinking they owned her, and threatening her.

“It’s too late for you to threaten me, dad. You made me leave, you didn’t want me. Neither me nor your grandson. You threw me out on the street. You forced me to leave or to have an abortion. You who are a doctor! You promised to save lives. You are a hypocrite and a bad father.”

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that,” Charles Redford had never accepted his daughters talking to him that way. He was their father, an adult, a person who deserved respect and gratitude, he told them.

But he had forfeited that right when he belittled her and took away her health insurance so she would have to fend for herself.

Not knowing whether she was eating or dying. Without calling her to find out if she woke up.

A week seemed like an eternity. With three days living in Timothy’s penthouse, everything seemed distant and extreme.

“You have no idea what my life is like. You judge me for being pregnant, instead of worrying about finding the man who impregnated me and making him take care of his child. You loathe and despise me when your son-in-law swindled a businessman out of three million dollars,” she walked up to her father, put a finger on his chest and threw the newspaper on the floor. “You have no heart or judgment to tell me what to do or what to say.”

“What!” exclaimed her mother and her father’s eyes widened in dismay.

Well, there was the news about Equilay. They would all come out of that afternoon surprised.

“Well, you see. It seems you have supported the wrong one. Instead, your daughter, the one you raised and instilled good values in, that one you couldn’t reach out to and forgive a simple teenage mistake.”

“Mel...” her father looked at her for the first time since she told them she was expecting a baby, as he did as when she was a naughty child and committed a prank. “My child... do you really think that? Do you think I don’t love you anymore? Do you think I don’t care about you?”

“You won’t let me think otherwise,” even though her cheeks were wet, and her eyes were swollen from crying, she didn’t mind being honest. She had nothing left to lose. “You’re my parents, the ones who

gave me life. You are supposed to take care of me, to lead me in the right direction, to support and advise me. You shouldn’t be the first ones to turn your backs on me when I needed you.”

Lydia began to cry behind her, and it broke her heart. Her mother was just as sentimental as she was.

It was a difficult situation for her family, but more so for her who felt so alone and exiled.

Her father wrapped her in his arms and began to sob.

It was the first time her father cried, at least in front of her.

“Forgive me, my daughter. I don’t deserve it, I don’t deserve your forgiveness, nor...” she returned his embrace and let herself be loved and protected by the man she loved so much all her life.

“I forgive you, dad,” she whispered closing her eyes and feeling her heart settle for the first time in a long time.