Page 28 of Truth or More Truth
We stop at a Pizza Hut somewhere in Arkansas to eat lunch. We’re about an hour away from our destination, and I suggested we push on through, but Melissa was starving and claimed the Pizza Hut buffet wouldn’t take long. She also explained that this way Leslie and her parents won’t feel the need to feed us once we arrive, and I appreciate her thoughtfulness.
“Based on your sweatshirt last night,” I say over a slice of supreme pizza, “I’m assuming you went to Columbia.”
“Yep. Majored in sociology.” She picks a pepperoni off her slice and pops it in her mouth.
My eyebrows raise. “Really?”
She swallows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I guess I just pegged you for a business major, considering your job in the Cubs front office.”
“Yeah, but my job consists of dealing with people every day. I’m in Customer Relations.”
“Oh.”
Melissa gives me an incredulous look. “Did you not know what my job is?”
“I guess not.” And I feel like an idiot for not knowing or even asking.
“Even though I initially met you while doing my job of checking on things in a luxury suite where you were watching a game with Ash and Leslie?”
I can feel my face turn red, which is an uncommon occurrence for me. “Uh, yeah. Sorry.”
“We talked for like five minutes.”
Interesting that she remembers all this. Of course, I remember it, too—well, everything but what her actual job is. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
She sighs. “Nothing, I guess.”
I nod. “So where did you work before this job? I’m assuming you worked somewhere else, since I only met you last spring, but I’ve been around the Cubs organization for a long time.”
“Yeah, I did. I stayed in Manhattan after college and worked in Human Resources for a Wall Street firm.”
“Wall Street, huh?”
“What? Do you have a problem with that, too?”
I raise my hands. “I haven’t had a problem with anything you’ve said. This is all just surprising to me, which I don’t want you to take offense to, as I’m not trying to offend you. I’m simply wrapping my head around it all. Especially after getting to know you this past day, Wall Street doesn’t seem to fit your personality.”
“I wasn’t a stockbroker or anything. That’s very much not my jam.”
“I didn’t think it would be. Anyway, what made you move back to Chicago?”
She can no longer meet my eye, and I wonder why.
“Well?” I prompt.
“I … my dad had some major health issues, so I wanted to be close to my parents again.”
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “Is he okay now?”
Melissa peeks up at me through her lashes and nods, but her eyes are sad. “He was having some heart problems, and then he had a stroke last winter. He recovered well enough that most people can’t tell a difference, but he didn’t get fully back to normal. He never will be.” Her eyes glisten with unshed tears. “But he survived, and that’s the important part. Before he got sick, I wasn’t very good about calling my parents or visiting them. I won’t take them for granted again.”
Before I can stop it, my hand covers hers on the table. “I’m sorry. Truly.”
“Thanks. It’s no fun watching your parents get old.”
I squeeze her hand before bringing my own back to my side of the table. As we continue to eat our pizza in silence, I consider how I’ve done almost nothing other than hold back personal information from her, but she freely offered the information about her her dad. I wonder if I should give her something personal in return.
