The Guests on South Battery (Tradd Street #5)(53)

“She must be hungry,” my dad said, stealing the words from my mouth.

“Must be,” I said, standing with JJ and reaching for Sarah. I made my way across the garden in my heels, smelling roses and listening to the sound of the fountain, and wondering how far down the road of denial he and I were willing to travel before we ran into the truth.





CHAPTER 15


Itook a deep breath as I stood outside Jack’s study. I’d just come back from my morning walk with my mother and hadn’t showered yet, but I knew I’d better get this over with before I changed my mind. This was all part of the new mature Melanie. It wasn’t that I didn’t think being open and honest was good for me. It was just that change was hard, like learning to choose vegetables instead of chocolate.

I gave a brief knock on the door, then opened it and stuck my head inside. Nola’s grand piano dominated the middle of the room, but looking past it I could see Jack at his desk against the window, wearing the cardigan sweater with elbow patches the twins had given him for Christmas. I’d told him that we’d thought it made him look more writerly and that it—along with the sheepskin-lined moccasin slippers Nola had given him—would help get him over his creative slump. It worried me a little to see him wearing both now.

He didn’t seem to notice my presence until I was beside him, as he was apparently absorbed in the folder of papers from Yvonne that were spread over the desktop along with a yellow lined pad on which I could see the scrawl of his writing punctuated with bullet points.

I saw that he must have been propping his head up with his hand, because he had an adorable cowlick in the middle of his forehead. He blinked for a moment as if trying to register who I was and where we were and what time of day it was. Having apparently figured it out, he smiled. “Did you have a good walk?”

I nodded. “Yes—the weather’s perfect. Not too hot, and not too cold, and very little humidity. I’m going to try to enjoy it while I can.” I pointed to my hair, still smooth despite that morning’s exertions. “Look,” I said. “No Brillo pad frizz.”

“Good for you,” he said. “Although I kind of like your bed-head look.” He raised a suggestive eyebrow, then lifted his arms the way JJ did when he wanted to be held. “Come sit,” he said.

“But I’m all sweaty,” I protested.

“Maybe I like you that way. Or are you suggesting we go upstairs and shower?” Without waiting for my response, he pulled me into his lap. “Mmm,” he said, burying his nose into my neck and winding his fingers through my hair. “Just what I needed right now.”

I smiled and relaxed into his embrace.

“Speaking of frizz,” he said, his voice mumbled as he pressed his lips against my neck, “Jayne’s trying a new shampoo that she swears by to keep the frizz down when the humidity rises. You might want to ask her about it if you’re really worried. Of course, I’d like you bald.”

I stiffened, the thought of why Jack and Jayne would be having a conversation about her hair doing its best to block all my nerve endings. He pulled back, a look of concern on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing. But I did want to have a conversation about something that’s been bothering me.”

He surprised me by grinning. “Is this the new and improved Mellie you keep warning me about?”

I swatted him on the shoulder. “It’s hard enough without you pointing it out when I’m doing it.”

He quickly schooled his features to look more serious. “Got it. So, what did you want to talk about?”

I took a deep breath. “Would you be upset if Sarah had inherited, um, certain abilities from my side of the family?”

He tilted his head, just like General Lee when I told him it wasn’t time for a treat. “As in an ability to communicate with the dead?”

“Yes. I see her staring into corners and other places where there’s nothing going on but she seems to think there is. Even when I can’t see anything—which is happening a lot lately. And then yesterday, in the garden with my dad, she grabbed hold of a necklace that may be a clue to an old murder and it made her scream.”

“Like what happens to your mother when she holds an object.”

I squeezed my eyes closed and nodded.

He didn’t say anything for a long moment and I began to worry. Eventually, I opened my eyes to find him smiling broadly.

“Why are you smiling?” I asked.

“Because you’re funny.”

“You think this is funny?” I asked, starting to get annoyed.

“Not at all. The subject of our daughter needs to be discussed with serious consideration. What’s funny is that you think that something so fundamentally you would be a negative thing for our daughter to inherit. I love you, Mellie. I love everything about you—some things more than others. If our Sarah has inherited your psychic abilities, then good for her. We should embrace it and celebrate it. And when the time comes, we can teach her how to manage and deal with it. Maybe it might even help you not to be so uptight about your own skills. I sometimes think that if your father had been more accepting, you wouldn’t be this way.”

“Uptight? I’m not sure I understand—”

He put his lips on mine and I quickly forgot exactly what I’d been upset about. When he finally pulled away, leaving me limp and boneless and my chin feeling raw from his unshaven bristles, he smiled. “Now, doesn’t that feel better?”