She was well-aware of Melon’s energetic sleep routine.
But Rodney simply shrugged it off.
“Let him. A little company wouldn’t hurt.”
Seeing the bond, Ariana just nodded. With a happy Melon in tow, Rodney headed upstairs.
Up in the vast bedroom on the third floor, Melon, wearing his pajamas, snuggled in a cozy chair. Rodney, next to him, tried reading from a storybook, but the print gave his eyes trouble.
Spotting this, Melon said, “How about I read it to you?”
Melon, holding onto his beloved book, spun a vivid tale, adding his own twist with hilarious voices for each character. He got on his feet for the thrilling bits, making Rodney chuckle.
As Melon animatedly narrated, Rodney’s thoughts drifted to memories of his own son Amiri when he was young.
That old, deep ache in his heart resurfaced; a pain he never quite got over.
Once Melon’s eyelids became heavy and sleep took over, Rodney made sure he was tucked in tight. He then moved to the neighboring sitting room, looking through dusty photo albums. Flipping through, he found a picture of his son, so young, so alive. Tears welled up as he whispered, “Oh, Amiri. Today, I met a boy who’s a spitting image of you.”
One photo showed a Little boy, eerily similar to Melon.
Right then, Judy walked in, holding a sweater for Rodney. Catching the wetness in his eyes, she approached. Rodney pointed to the picture.
“Doesn’t Melon look just like my Amiri?”
Looking closely, Judy nodded, a shiver running down her spine.
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“There’s a strong likeness. I guess there’s something universal about beautiful children.”
They kept flipping pages, immersing in memories.
Suddenly, a baby picture caught Judy’s eye.
A tiny tot in just a diaper lay on her side, flaunting a unique pink birthmark on her Lower back.
That birthmark seemed familiar. Judy frowned.
“Sir, who’s the baby in this photo?”