Music in My Heart: My Journey with Melody

I think about Dad’s campaign manager, Mr. Chapman, who was mistaken for a valet because of the color of his skin, and about Melody and her brother turned away from Fieldston’s for being Black, and how Melody looked when she talked about it. I know in my heart what to do. I take a deep breath and say we should go in.

Melody doesn’t look mad at me, only a little scared, and nods that she agrees. Yvonne puts a hand on my shoulder and says that’s a brave decision. But I don’t feel brave as I follow her into the shop.

The bell above the door jingles, and my mind races. Will the waitresses be mean, will they make us leave? Melody stands close to me just inside the door. The waitress at the cash register, her name tag reading Sue, looks up, then looks away.

Yvonne clears her throat, but the waitress turns her back on us and, without a word, grabs a pitcher of water and starts down a row of tables. Melody asks what we should do. She might not come back. Yvonne says we wait.

Then the door jingles behind us. A White woman and her teenage daughter step in. The girl smiles at me, and I smile back, my cheek quivering. Sue comes back, sets down the pitcher, grabs menus, and starts leading the woman and her daughter to a table. The girl points out that we were here first. Sue’s sour look says she doesn’t want to seat us, but she finally waves toward a booth in the back.

Yvonne smiles, says we’ll sit right here instead, and steps toward the counter. Melody follows her to the stools, chin set as determined as her sister’s. I follow, hoping my wobbly legs don’t give out.