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Melon, pondering the question, replied, “Quite a bit. Do you want to see a photo?”
Melon slid off the bed and ducked underneath, pulling out a hidden iron box.
He carefully lifted the lid to unveil a variety of trinkets, each seeming to have its own story.
Digging a little deeper, he pulled out a photo neatly wrapped for protection.
He said as he offered the picture to Holden, “Here. This is my Daddy.”
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtHolden took the photo, eyes immediately drawn to the couple it featured: a man in a wheelchair and a
woman, presumably Ariana, laughing behind him as she pushed.
The man’s face was only partially visible, captured in a side profile.
But that profile, that hint of a smile, was oddly familiar.
With a puzzled look, Holden examined the photograph, the resemblance uncanny.
Could he actually look so much like Ariana’s late husband?
His thoughts darted around, but he reasoned that many could share a similar side profile.
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Looking back to Melon, he inquired, “Do you have a full-faced photo of your dad?”
Melon’s little face fell a bit.
“Only this one. My godmother took it without telling my Mommy. I had to bug her loads before she gave
it to me on the sly. Mommy doesn’t know.”
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Holden wondered why Ariana hadn’t shared pictures of Melon’s dad with him. It seemed odd.
The kid was just as in the dark as him, although Melon was mature enough to suspect that his Mommy
might have a good reason to hide it.
Melon’s mood shifted quickly though, his eyes shining with optimism.
“It’s alright. I’m sure Daddy will be back for my next birthday, and I can see him, not just in photos!”
Holden’s heart twisted a bit. Melon’s hope was palpable, and he found himself at a loss for words.
Instead, he simply reached out, tousling Melon’s hair affectionately.
“Hey,” Melon said, holding up his pinkie.
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