Dr. Mel King enthusiast

Dana realizes that Robby is eyeballing Langdon and Mel one day while he’s pretending to be charting and knows he’s figured out that there’s something going on there. She confronts him before he goes to tell Langdon off about it.

“It’s innocent, Robby. And if it’s the only thing that’s making him smile right now? The only thing keeping his head screwed on? What then, Robby? Have you thought about her, that it’s hard for her to make friends. Robby, that she’s all alone in the world, and it must be nice to have someone she can rely on for once? Huh? Do you really want to chew him out over this?” And Robby, miffed, but chastised, is convinced to leave it alone, at least until it’s something more than just ‘friends’.

When Langdon is clearly down in the dumps about not seeing his kids, (Abby took them to her parents’ place in Florida for Halloween and didn’t tell him) Dana offers to take a patient off Mel’s hands so Mel can go home with him a little earlier and make sure he doesn’t do something he might regret. Sobriety is such a tricky thing, and Dana doesn’t want to see him fail. When Mel’s sister calls the ED needing a ride and Frank is going off shift while Mel is tied up in a trauma, Dana knows to give the phone to Frank. Becca knows Langdon, she saw him in the ED that one time, and Dana has a hunch they’ve been acquainted since then through Mel. Frank confirms this when he answers the phone with a very casual “what’s up Becs?” And quickly makes arrangements to pick her up from her friends’ house.

When Mel seems uncharacteristically sad and she hears a rumor from Samira that Mel’s pet goldfish died, Dana subtly reminds Frank. “You know, I know Tanner’s birthday is coming up. If you’re looking for a gift the hospital gift shop has lots of stuffed animals that your kid might like.”

And when he gives her a puzzled look because “Dana his birthday was in May.” she shakes her head and elaborates with a sigh. So much for subtlety.

“They got every kind of animal up there. Dogs, cats, frogs, whales, even goldfish plushies.”

Frank thanks her profusely, and dashes off as she expected he would. And if she sees Mel, watery eyed, tucking a gold colored stuffed animal into her locker later, well that’s none of her business.

And if she sees Mel and Frank leaving the hospital one evening in Frank’s old beater while crossing the parking lot, well, Frank would tell her if there was something he wanted to share. She shakes her head to herself and goes to the spot where Benji always picks her up, at the entrance to the parking lot. She has dinner to make and teenage kids to berate. Not her monkeys, not her circus.

So when Frank tells her the next Monday “I’m getting a divorce,” she doesn’t ask him, “Is it because of Mel? Are you having an affair?” No she says “Is it good news? Or bad news?” And tries to look very neutral. She’s not a nosy nurse. She refuses to be a meddling mother figure.

“It’s good news,” he says. “We haven’t been in love in a very long time. Since before rehab. Rehab didn’t help, but it’s not why we’re ending things. And I’ve long since realized that it wasn’t good for the kids. To try to work it out for them, I mean.”

She replies, “Well, good for you. Marriage isn’t for everyone, and staying married for the kids never works out in my opinion. You gotta do what’s best for you. And for Abby.”

The silent part she doesn’t say, is that she thinks he should do right by Mel. But whatever’s going on there, is none of her business. And she doesn’t know anything, not really.

But two weeks after that, she can definitely say she knows something is up, because she goes to clear a supposedly empty room and Mel is in there, crying while sitting on a stool. Langdon is holding her hand very gently and kneeling next to her. They both look up when she walks in and she promptly walks back out, her face already in a neutral position. Nothing shocks her anymore.

Langdon jogs after her, grabbing his stethoscope, “Sorry about that Dana, Mel had a hard case, car crash. Girl who died, she was the guardian of her younger sister. Hit kinda close to home.”

“What are you apologizing to me, for?” Dana put her glasses on and peered at the board meaningfully. “I didn’t see anything. Tell Mel we need the room and have her take her lunch break in the lounge. I’ll put a do not disturb up for her. Not you, though. There’s a pile up in chairs with your name on it.” She slaps a pile of patient passports into his arms.

Langdon exhales, blowing his cheeks out, but does as she says.

She promises she’ll ask him what’s going on with the two of them later. But later turns into a week, two weeks turns into a month and she’s almost convinced herself it wasn’t worth the conversation when she sees Mel come into the Pitt one day wearing makeup.

Mel, with pink lipstick and blush on. Mel, who hates anything on her face, who can’t stand even heavy sunscreen, and is particular about which hand sanitizer she uses (Purell, it’s less sticky) is wearing what Dana deduces is likely a MAC frosted. Dana would know that pearly shade anywhere.

Santos gives her shit about it right away, but Mel just shrugs at her, tells her she’s trying something new. Dana hears Princess tell Perlah something in Filipino, and catches the drift that they think she looks cute (it helps that the Philippine word for cute is ang cute). Dana decides that the conversation she needs to have with Langdon is now less important than the conversation she needs to have with Mel. Especially when she glances sidelong at Frank and watches him overfill his water bottle at the water fountain while staring bald faced at Mel. Who seems completely unaware of his fixation. Dana shakes her head. Oblivious.

So Dana takes matters into her own hands and sidles up to Mel while she’s getting a suture kit from the supply closet (Mel could have asked a tech to grab it for her, but she’s a good kid and doesn’t like to make work for others’), and touches her shoulder.

“Hey kid, how’s it going?” She starts tentatively.

Mel gives her a a quick assessment, then smiles“It’s going great, Dana. I’ve actually managed to discharge 4 patients already and I’m just about to do some stitches on my patient in Curtain 7, and then he’ll be ready to go as well.”

“That’s great, kid. Definitely more than Dr. Langdon’s got done.”

“Well, Frank was in a trauma,” Mel defends. Frank, Dana notes. So they are on first name terms.

“Frank has been out of that trauma for 20 minutes and finished his charting after 5 and has yet to pick up another patient,” Dana says slowly. “Do you know why?”

Mel shakes her head. She squints at Dana, concerned.

“Because he’s been tripping around this place, mooning over you,” Dana smiles and goes to hit Mel playfully on the arm with her clipboard before thinking better of it, and gently touching her arm gently instead.

Mel grimaces and her eyebrows knit further together. “There’s no way that’s true, Dana, he doesn’t look at me like that.”

Dana barks out a laugh. “Kid you must be blind. I know for a fact that he’s been crushing on you since forever.”

“How?” Mel asks. “He’s never once made a move on me. At least none that I understood.”

Mel wrenches her hands and drops her head.

“Is that what the makeup is about, Mel?” Dana asks gently. She rubs Mel’s arm soothingly. “Listen kid, Frank is head over heels for you. You don’t need to change anything about your appearance, honey, especially for that man.”

“But how do you know that?” Mel asks insistently.

“I just know,” Dana admits. “He’s never said anything to me,” she holds up a hand as if in defense, “but I know that man like I know my sons. And he is smitten. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger.” Dana winks at her, encouragingly.

Mel blushes, and grabs her face, trying to hide her expression.

“Now, I don’t know how you feel about him,” Dana squints in a parental way, “But if you like him, you should tell him. And if you don’t—”

Mel cuts her off. “I do, um, like him,” she admits, “A lot. He gets me. And he’s likes spending time with me. Outside of work I mean. No one else—no one else really bothers. And he helps a lot, with Becca. She likes him. And I like pretty much everything about him. I like his floppy hair, his blue eyes, his smile,” Mel looks panicked. “But you knew that didn’t you? Oh my god, I’m so pathetic.”

Dana pats her shoulder. “If anyone’s pathetic it’s Langdon. If it’s any consolation, I couldn’t tell if you only liked him as a friend. You’re a bit of a mystery to me, Mel. Now go wipe that stuff off, so Frank can stop drooling all over my workstation. I know you probably hate the way it feels anyway.”

Mel looks away, not meeting her eyes. “It’s so sticky. I don’t know why I wore it,” she whispered. “It’s awful. I probably look like a clown.”

“It’s my favorite lipstick shade,” Dana assures her. “You look very beautiful, but you don’t need it.”

Mel looked up at her eyes shining, “thanks Dana. For everything, I really appreciate it.”

Dana gives her a hug, for moral support. Mel dutifully washes off the makeup and heads back to work. Dana washes her hands of it all and resigns herself to mind her own business for at least a week. At least until she comes in the next day and she finds a tube of lipstick on her desk. Bombshell by Mac. There’s a post-it underneath it with very neat handwriting. “I bought one for you since it’s your favorite color. Thanks for the advice, you were right. - Dr. Melissa King.”

Mel is shockingly calm about the whole situation.

“I think it’ll be nice,” she said, serenely, when Frank was checking for the hundredth time if she’s sure she wants to come up to Erie for Christmas. “I haven’t had a big family Christmas since high school.”

And that was such a classic Mel moment—heartbreaking content delivered so calmly, like she was talking about a restaurant she hadn’t visited in a while or a shirt she found in the back of the closet—that Frank forgot all of his previous worries in favor of giving her a hug and pressing his face into her hair, like if he held her hard enough some of his love and care could travel back in time to the past and find those other Mels who were so very alone. 

But Mel doesn’t come with him to therapy, so there’s nothing to distract him now from the absurd anxieties his brain has been cooking up.

“Do you want to know what I think?” Leanne prompts after a moment of silence, since Frank is trying and failing to figure out how to articulate the problem. He nods instantly because duh, he always wants to know what people think of him, and hearing things from therapists means it’s, like, probably true. Hearing things from Leanne specifically means it’s almost certainly true.

(She gave him a gold star at their session that last week of school, when he showed her the letters he’d written for homework and then told her about everything with Mel. A gold star from his therapist. He peaked, probably.)

“I think you’re nervous because you idolize Charlie and think she’s—” Leanne consults her notes, which never means anything good for him. “—’the superior Langdon sibling in every conceivable way,’ which is combining with how you think that Mel will wake up one day and realize she can—” Leanne looks back at her notes. “—’obviously do better’ into an irrational fear of Mel leaving you for your sister.”

“Jesus,” Frank breathes. “Don’t hold back.”

Leanne raises an eyebrow and continues her freaky mindreading.

“More than that, I think that you’re remembering how Charlie didn’t think you and Abby were the right fit for each other, which you ignored, and you’re scared that she’s going to see something you’ve missed.”

“I take it back. I don’t want to know what you think.”

Leanne doesn’t respond to that, which he hates. Why is he surrounded by people who are so skilled at using loaded silences against him, and when will he learn how not to fill them?

The thing is that she’s right, obviously. Frank has looked back over the past decade of his life, randomly picked out some elements, and combined them into a nonsensical mishmash of anxious hypotheticals: What if Charlie hates Mel? What if Mel hates Charlie? What if Mel hates his parents? What if his parents hate Mel? What if they forget Bunny at home? What if Charlie somehow discovers that Mel is hiding an addiction to benzos? (That might be kind of funny, actually.) What if Mel leaves him for Charlie? 

“Have you seen Hamilton?” Frank asks, wondering how effectively he can distract Leanne from the hole he’s started digging himself. Leanne nods, still looking unimpressed. “It’s like. I’ve been thinking I’m Eliza, but what if I’m Angelica, you know? I don’t think I’m good enough to be Angelica. Well, not good, but selfless, maybe? Although none of that part of the musical is very accurate, all that stuff about the Schuyler family. Angelica was actually already married when she met Hamilton. I think she even had a couple of kids? And she definitely had brothers. She had, like, twelve siblings or something. Have you heard of Historians on Hamilton? It’s a collection of essays about Hamilton by historians and academics and stuff. Charlie got it for me for Christmas a few years ago.”

Leanne closes her eyes and rubs her forehead. “Frank, has Mel ever expressed a romantic or sexual interest in other women?”

Frank presses his lips together, remembering the time that Mel told him she’s probably a 0 or 1 on the Kinsey scale. (Which she was disappointed about, to his amusement, because she’s missing out on “what sound like very enjoyable parts of the human experience.”) He sheepishly shakes his head.

“So is this really the topic of conversation you want to pursue? We still have plenty of time to talk about something else. Your father, perhaps?”

“Maybe I should give Charlie Yoyo’s number,” Frank muses, brightening up. “That would distract her, right?”

Leanne sighs and closes her notebook.

--

“I feel like I should have tried to learn greetings in Elvish or something to show respect,” Mel whispers, nervously running a hand up and down her thigh. 

Frank tries to imagine what Charlie’s reaction would be if Mel hit her with Aiya or Mai omentaina. She’d probably try to steal Mel from him on the spot, no matter what Leanne said.

“She’s not that into Lord of the Rings,” Frank says, slinging his arm around Mel’s shoulders and pulling her a little closer to him. “...Anymore.

They’re standing on the porch of his childhood home, expecting Charlie to arrive any minute. His mom is helping Tanner and Penny walk Bunny, God bless, which means they get to do this without an audience, Tanner and Penny get a chance to walk/run/skip off some of their energy after the two-hour drive up, and Mel gets a little break from loud noises after the aforementioned drive: win-win-win.

(Plus: his dad is at a buddy’s house. Everything’s coming up Frank, really.)

“Frank,” Mel whispers, tugging on his jacket until he swings his gaze away from the street and meets her beautiful eyes. 

“Yes, gorgeous?”

“This color is really nice on you. It really brings out your eyes.”

She keeps smiling up at him, cheeks rosy in the cold air, and Frank can’t help but lean down, capturing her lips against his own. 

Charlie chooses that moment to pull into the driveway, of course. Frank breaks away just as she wolf whistles out the window. He really does think they might be cursed at this point. He can probably count on one hand the number of times he’s gotten to kiss Mel in public without being interrupted or spotted by somebody annoying.

“Ok, Mel, just remember that even though she’s cooler, smarter, funnier, and smoother than me, I have Bunny,” Frank whispers in Mel’s ear as they start descending the porch stairs to the driveway. 

“Frank, I have no interest in leaving you for Charlie,” Mel tells him, somehow not sounding annoyed, even though it’s probably the fifth time she’s said it. (Apparently it’s “cute” that he thinks so highly of his sister. He doesn’t understand how Mel King is a real person.)

Charlie pops out of the driver’s seat, no jacket in sight.

“I thought she was Ubering from the airport?” Mel murmurs, which is, as always, an excellent point. Charlie yells across the yard before Frank can answer.

“Hi Frankie! It’s so great to meet you in the flesh, Mel!” 

Charlie twists side to side, probably stretching out her back. Jesus, how is she only wearing a T-shirt? Mel’s wearing her winter jacket and scarf and beanie and still looks a little cold around the edges. Also, when did Charlie finish her sleeve?

They’re only halfway across the yard when the passenger door springs open and a second woman emerges from the car, mostly blocked from Frank’s view. 

Frank looks to Mel to see if he missed something, but she looks equally confused. Which, fair. Why would she know more about what’s going on in his family than he does?

“Surprise!” Charlie chirps when they finally reach her. She hooks her arm around Frank’s neck to drag him into a hug that’s more of a squeeze, honestly, but it’s still nice. “Meet my new girlfriend! We made it official last week and she’s breaking her lease to move in with me when we get back to Brooklyn!” 

“DAD!” Tanner’s voice yells, still at least half a block away by the sound of it. “I TOLD HER NOT TO BUT BUNNY CAUGHT A SQUIRREL! PENNY’S TRYING TO GET IT OUT OF HER MOUTH!”