Daddy Dearest

Chapter Eighteen

Ben

Luckily, Waverly is right behind Nancy and able to catch her as she collapses. My wife looks at my precious cargo and her green eyes widen. “My God, Benjamin, is she all right?”

I glance at Melody’s slightly flushed face and nod. “She’s merely asleep. The events of the day have caught up with her, I'm afraid. I'll put her in her bedroom. Lay Nancy on the couch and give her some cold water.”

With her lips pursed, Waverly studies Melody with motherly concern. “She's been through so much in just a few days, Ben. She needs our help.”

I close my eyes briefly, praying for honor and strength of will as I adjust my hold on Melody in my arms. “I know, Wave, and we'll help her together. Now try to get Nancy sorted and I'll be right back.” I kiss my wife's brow as I walk past her on my way further into the house.

I feel Waverly's gaze on my back as I go past the den and down the hallway that leads to the bedrooms. Harry's house has five, plus an office and a den. It really is quite big for two people. They could probably get a million and a half, should they decide to sell it.

I doubt they would. For Melody and Nancy, the house is their last connection to Harry. It's Melody's only link to her parents and the only place she has ever called home. I stride down to the end of the hall and enter Melody's bedroom.

I know where it is because when she was a little girl, she'd fall asleep in my car and I'd carry her in for Merry.

A lot of the time, Harry was in some far corner of the globe to meet some literary genius and get him or her to sign with his agency. Harry was well-known for finding brilliant writers from all parts of the world. Once he found a 105-year-old man living in the deep jungles of the Philippines who'd kept prodigious, detailed journals and notes of his life from the age of ten, which was when he learned how to write. He'd survived the hostile takeover of the Philippines by the Japanese, wars, famine, volcanoes, and dictators because he lived in the mostly undiscovered jungle with his family all of his life. The book was a worldwide best-seller and turned into a film by American, British, and Philippine producers. It was a global box office hit and nominated for numerous BAFTA and Academy Awards. That little old Filipino man helped cement Harry Plum's reputation as a literary legend.

Because Harry was gone a lot, Merry went on day trips with us with just little Melody along. And then when Merry was busy at hospital, she left Melody in our care. She eventually engaged a nanny for the girl, but poor Melody suffered from separation anxiety, so Merry would often end up taking her to our house.

The last time I saw Melody's bedroom, she had a princess canopy bed, a giant dollhouse that Lottie had to have also, a variety of wall posters with unicorns and sparkly rainbows on them, tea party sets, and an army of plush animals. My son loved her so much that he sat through countless tea parties for her.

Her room is a lot different now. She is a seventeen-year-old girl, after all. Her Little Ladies tea party set has been replaced by a high settee, decorated with matching pillows and Sanrio plush characters, pushed against a large picture window that looks out to the pool. A sturdy oak desk with a large monitor for her Apple desktop replaced the dollhouse.

Instead of the canopy princess bed, she now has a neatly-made, queen-sized one with a black lacquered headboard flushed against the middle of the far wall. Two nightstands flank either side of it. Her green retainer case and horn-rimmed glasses sit on the left nightstand next to a dark wood lamp with a pink lampshade, which has a twin on the other nightstand. Propped against the headboard are four pillows in shades of purple and nestled among them is Melody's plush lion, Mr. Binks.