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His religious beliefs didn’t bother her. She wasn’tnota Christian. But she didn’t attend church. Or pray. Or read her Bible. Or believe God cared for her like Jeremy said.
But she believed God existed. Somewhere. Not in her childhood home, that was certain.
A complicated mix of emotions surged through her as often happened when she let herself remember the past, remember her mom, remember what life had been like as a child and teen. Her throat swelled until she feared she was about to choke. Seeking a distraction, she rose to turn up the heat. Her toes were almost numb.
She sat again, staring at the phone. Wasn’t there anyone in the world she could talk to? Heart to heart? Someone who wouldn’t be deterred by reality? By her past? By her present? By her fears and failures and faults?
The screen blurred as tears filled her eyes, and her fingers let her heart lead them.
Dear Jeremy, thanks for the nice message. I didn’t know it started snowing again. I don’t do a lot of winter activities but I’ve gone snowboarding with my best friend even though he’s way better at it than me. I like ice skating when its not too cold. I’ve always wanted to try cross-country skiing but haven’t found anyone to do it with me yet. What about you?
So yeah, getting my degree was kinda a nightmare. I had tons of performances and thought I’d fail every single time. It was exhausting. I don’t know how I did it. School is hard for me as it is, and I had to pay someone to proofread every paper I wrote because I don’t understand grammar rules and such as you can probably tell. That got expensive and then I was constantly worried about my performances and not doing well enough. I was so happy to graduate grad school and come back here, really.
Artisan’s Hope is a special place to me. I had it pretty rough growing up. I lived on the poor side if you know what I mean. In eighth and ninth grade two good things happened to me. I met my best friend, and the next year I began going to Artisan’s Hope after school instead of going home. Any hours not at home were good. I learned there how much I loved music. I had just started playing trombone in the high school band but I got to learn other instruments at Artisan’s Hope. Later on I joined their acting class. I enjoy working there a lot but I also feel like I’m paying back a debt. That place might have saved my life.
Sorry to dump on you. I’m not usually like this, but I have this crazy feeling that you get me. You’re easy to talk to. – Feeling thankful for you, Melody
She knew if she started to read what she’d written, she would delete the whole thing. Rather than that, she hit “send” as fast as she could and slammed back in her kitchen chair.
Why had she spilled all that on a total stranger? She had to be crazy. Jeremy could still be a front for a fifty-five-year-old rapist. Albeit, a very understanding and encouraging one.
When her phone dinged less than two minutes later, she jumped. He’d written back already? She hadn’t noticed he was online.
Jeremy: You don’t have to apologize. You can tell me anything you’re comfortable sharing. I’m honored by your trust.
Melody: Thank you…
Jeremy: What made your childhood home so rough?
Her hands fell to her lap, immobile. She wasn’t ready to talk about that yet. Not with anybody.
Melody: That’s pretty complicated, but going to Artisan’s Hope gave me hope for a better life and gave me something to put my focus on. I don’t know who I’d be today if not for that.
That, and TJ.
Jeremy: So, your work there is a way of giving back. I like that. You have a generous heart. I’m sure the pay isn’t anything to shout about, either. No matter what happens with this play, I hope they know how blessed they are to have you.
Melody smiled at the sweet words of praise. Whoever this Jeremy was, he had to be an angel.
Melody: Thank you…again. I need to go, talk later.
Jeremy: If you ever need to talk, I’m here. Anytime.
Melody stood up to make hot chocolate. Too early yet for lavender. While she stirred in three small marshmallows, she mulled over her conversation with Jeremy. What a sweet heart he had. So kind and uplifting. She really hoped he was real. Because she really liked him.
As she sat on her couch, cradling the hot mug and blowing across the surface in hopes it would cool quickly so she could feed her chocolate addiction, her phone announced an incoming text. At a quick glance at her device, she set down her cup, wondering what TJ would say after the way he left his parents’ house in such a rush earlier.
TJ: Sorry I was being a moron earlier. Bad mood.
She was certain it went deeper than that. But they had to leave things the way they were. They justhadto. Even if she’d desperately wanted him to kiss her in the hallway today. Even though it would have ruinedeverything.
Melody: It happens. We’re good.
Yes, they were good. And they had to stay that way.
* * * * *
The week was flying by with only a few days left in the month. February was around the corner, which meant the Valentine’s play was, too. Melody labored through each practice, telling herself they were ready. They’d be fine. It wouldn’t end in disaster.
