We Made Our Way Dreaming

“Oh sweetie,” my mom threw her arms around me. “I can’t believe you’re here! I’m so happy to see you.”

“Hi mom,” I said, trying to push her off gently. I put her purse down on the chair in the living room. “Where’s Mitchie?” I asked.

“Your sister has work at the hospital till 11 tonight,” she said, smoothing out her apron. “Now what can I get you darlin’? Tea? Coffee? Soda? Perhaps something stronger?”

“Nothing,” I said, waving it off. “I’m not staying too long actually.”

“Oh,” she said disappointedly. “Well um as long as you’re here right now. I’ll make you something special for dinner. All your favorite foods, how does that sound? Oh you’ll wait till your sister comes home, won’t you? She’ll love to see you.”

“Sure mom,” I sighed. “I’ll stay a few days.”

“Wonderful,” she said as we moved to the kitchen. She opened the fridge to take out things to make dinner. “So have you seen Joseph yet?”

I winced. “That’s actually why I’m here,” I said.

“Oh baby,” she grinned, turning away from the counter to smile at me. “Don’t tell me you two are getting back together! I mean honestly sweetie, you two were practically perfect together. You never spent more than 10 minutes apart.”

“We’re not getting back together,” I groaned. I held my hand up, showing her the ring on my hand. “I’m engaged mom.”

“Oh dear me,” she gasped, grabbing my hand. She inspected the ring. “Is it that Devin guy? The one you were in the magazine with?”

“Yes,” I said. “We’re happy and we’re in love and we’re getting married.”

“Oh that’s wonderful darling,” she said, hugging me. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” I sighed. I got up from the islander stool. “Listen, I’m going to go to the Jonas house, okay? They still live down the street?” I hadn’t been in here in so long that I wasn’t sure how it was.

“Um, well Joe does,” she admitted nervously. She was twirling her apron, something she had always down when she didn’t want to tell me something.

“What is it mom?” I asked.

“It’s Denise,” she said sadly. “She passed away this past June.”

“What?” I gasped. Denise Jonas had always been a second mother to me. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We tried,” she said defensively. “We called you, but you didn’t pick up, and when you called back, you sounded so happy about your album that I didn’t want to bring you down sweetie. Joe didn’t tell you?”

I shook my head. “Where are Nick and Kevin?”

“Kevin and Danielle live in New York,” she said. “They visit every other week. They always have Sunday lunch with me when they come, bless them. And Nick – well he lives with Joe, but he’s moving to LA.”

“Oh,” I said. Why hadn’t he told me he was moving there? Then I remembered we hadn’t exactly talked in a while. “Okay well um, I’ll be back.”

“Be careful honey,” she called after me.

I didn’t respond, though I knew I would. The last time I had been home was just after my first single release and it had pretty much been crazy. I had been ambushed by fans. I pulled a scarf over my head and put my sunglasses on, and started walking towards the Jonas house. I sighed. I had to do this, as much as I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to see him, I couldn’t. But if I wanted a life with Devin, I would have to make him sign the papers in my bag. I took a deep breath and knocked on their door.

Nick opened it. Shock flooded his face. “Melody?” he asked.

I tried to smile. “Hi Nicky,” I said.

He threw his arms around my waist, pulling me close. I wrapped my own around his neck. “What are you doing here?” he asked after he pulled back. He pulled me into the house, closing the door behind us.

“Oh just passing through,” I said.

“Really,” he laughed, not buying it.

I grinned. “You’re moving to LA, I hear?” I changed the subject. I knew I was delaying the inevitable, but I couldn’t help it.

“Yeah,” he said, turning red slightly. “Sorry I didn’t call you.”

“It’s cool,” I said nervously. “I could have called too. I just heard about your mom. I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks,” he said, trying to smile. We passed into the uncomfortable silence zone. “So I heard about you and Devin.”

“Oh yeah?” I asked, nervously. “Um what did you hear?”

“Well actually I saw it,” he smirked. “I was watching your Ellen interview.”

I blushed. “Oh yeah.”

“Congratulations,” he said. “I know you probably think I’m being sarcastic or something considering. But I really want you to be happy.”

I really believed him. “Thanks Nick.”

“I’m guessing you’re here to see Joe?” he asked.

I sighed. “Where is he?”

“In his room,” he said. “You can go on up.”

“Should I be worried?” I asked, looking at Nick pleadingly.

He sighed, and shook his head. “Just don’t take anything he says too hard, okay? He saw the Ellen interview too.”

I gulped. “Thanks.” I walked up the stairs. How was this going to go? Would I just ask him to sign the papers and leave? That seemed really cold, especially considering everything. I stopped in front of his door, knowing it was his from all the times I had come up here before. How could I ever forget? This house was where I had practically grown up. This room was like my room. There was a faint tune coming from inside, like that of a piano. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” his voice came through. My hands shook as I opened the door and stepped in. His back was facing me.

“Um,” I said.

His shoulders stiffened at my tone, but he didn’t turn around. “What are you doing here Melody?”

“You know me from one word?” I asked quietly.

“I knew it was you when you came in,” he said. “You still use that sweet pea lotion. Besides, I knew this day was coming.”

‘You did?” I asked anxiously.

“Nick has to have told you I saw the Ellen interview,” he said, finally turning around. His looked at me in no way particular. His expression wasn’t empty, but there was no hatred or anger there either. It was unreadable. “What are you doing here Mel?”

“I need you to sign the papers,” I sighed.

“Oh,” he said. A smirk came to his lips. “Devin Conrad doesn’t know about your dirty little secret, does he?”

“No one does,” I rolled my eyes. “We both made sure of that Joe. Now can you just sign them?”

“Um,” he thought about it. “No actually I can’t.”

“W-what?” I was thrown off. I had expected anger and sarcasm and pain, but denial, refusal? I hadn’t expected that.

“I can’t sign them,” he repeated for me slowly.

“Why the hell not?” I demanded.

“Well see, I like being married to you,” he said, turning back around to the piano. He played a tune. “And I don’t think I want to give it up just yet.”

“Oh give it up Joe,” I rolled my eyes. I walked over to him and turned him around to face me. “Just because it’s on paper doesn’t mean I’m your wife. It was a stupid mistake, and we need to correct it now.”

“Or what?” he asked.

“You damn sure know or what,” I glared at him. “Just give me a divorce Joe.”

He stood up, his face so close to mine. His eyes were staring deep into mine. I stood frozen, already feeling his lips on mine from my memories. He smirked. “Nope,” he said. He moved past me and walked out of the room.