"Hello, Melony," said Homer Wells. There was not a sound in the still, summer air.
"How you doin', Sunshine?" Melony asked him.
"Sunshine!" said Big Dot Taft.
Even Angel had to say it out loud. Imagine: his father a "Sunshine"!
But although she had waited years to see him, Melony's gaze was riveted not on Homer Wells but on Angel. Melony could not take her eyes off the boy. Homer Wells, a pleasant-looking man in his forties, did not very precisely remind Melony of the Homer Wells she had known; rather, it was Angel who struck Melony with a force
quite unexpected by her. She had not anticipated being swept off her feet by the near-spitting image of the boy she had known. Poor Angel felt a little wilted by the ruffian eye Melony cast over him, but he was a young gentleman and he smiled appealingly at the stranger.
"There's no doubt about who you are," Melony said to the boy. "You look more like your father than your father." Big Dot and the apple-mart ladies were hanging on her every word.
"It's nice that you see a resemblance," said Homer Wells, "but my son is adopted."
Hadn't Homer Wells learned anything? Through those years of hard knocks, those years of muscle and fat and betrayal and growing decidedly older, could he still not see in Melony's fierce, sad eyes that she possessed a quality that could never be bullshitted?
"Adopted?" Melony said, her yellow-gray eyes never once leaving Angel. She was disappointed in her oldest friend: that he should, after all these years, still try to deceive her.
That was when Candy--who had finally gotten rid of Bucky Bean--strolled into the apple mart, removed a Gravenstein from a basket on the first display table, took a sharp bite, noticed that no one seemed to be working and walked over to the small crowd.
Since the most natural space for Candy to enter this gathering was between Homer and Angel, she stepped between them; and since her mouth was quite full of the new apple, she was a little embarrassed to speak to the stranger.
"Hi!" she managed to say to Melony, who recognized instantly--in Candy's face--those few parts of Angel she had failed to locate in her memory of Homer Wells.
"This is Melony," Homer said to Candy, who had difficulty swallowing--long ago, on the cider house roof, she had heard all about Melony. "This is Missus Worthington," Homer mumbled to Melony.
"How do you do?" Candy managed to say.
"Missus Worthington?" Melony said, her lynxlike eyes now darting from Angel to Candy, and from Angel to Homer Wells.
That was when Wally wheeled himself out of the office and into the mart.
"Isn't anybody working today?" he asked, in his friendly way. When he saw there was a stranger, he was polite. "Oh, hello!" he said.
"Hi," said Melony.
"This is my husband," Candy said, through lots of apple.
"Your husband?" Melony said.
"This is Mister Worthington," mumbled Homer Wells.
"Everybody calls me Wally," Wally said.
"Melony and I were in the orphanage together," Homer explained.
"Really?" Wally said enthusiastically. "That's great," he said. "Get them to show you around. Show her the house, too," Wally told Homer. "Maybe you'd like to take a swim?" he asked Melony, who, for once in her life, did not know what to say. "Dot?" Wally said to Big Dot Taft. "Get me a count of the number of bushels of Gravs we have in storage. I got a phone order waiting." He turned the wheelchair very smoothly and started to roll back to the office.
"Meany knows how many we got," Florence Hyde said. "He was just in there."
"Then someone get Meany to tell me," Wally said. "It's nice to meet you!" he called to Melony. "Please stay for supper."
Candy almost choked, but she managed a hard swallow.
"Thank you!" Melony called after Wally.
He didn't need any help going in and out of the office, because Everett Taft had (years ago) taken the threshold off and arranged for the screen door to swing both ways--like a saloon door. Wally could come and go without assistance.