After dinner he was going to get a few minutes of her time. Surely she knew it was coming. Surely she knew she couldn’t avoid him for two weeks. Not after that kiss, not after what he’d said.
An hour later Jake was seated across the table from Meridith. She chatted with the kids while Jake brooded about what he’d say when he finally got her alone.
After a long meal, the kids finally pushed back from the table. Meridith hopped up, no doubt to busy herself in the kitchen. But Jake was prepared.
“Meridith, a word?”
“I have to clear the table and do the dishes,” she said without a glance.
“Max and Ben, clear the table, please. Noelle, the dishes?”
The kids agreed before Meridith could protest. Finally, she set down the casserole dish, apparently realizing she couldn’t stop the inevitable.
He gestured toward the back door, and she exited the house. Not wanting the kids to overhear, he continued down the porch steps into the yard, stopping at the steps leading to the beach.
Dark clouds gathered on the horizon, and the wind tugged at Meridith’s blouse. She’d known this was coming, had dreaded it all night and all day. Had lain awake for hours trying to put words to her feelings. Impossible. Instead, she’d felt Jake’s lips on hers, heard those words that all but stopped her heart.
Jake turned to face her, leaning against the wood railing of the beach steps. She wasn’t deceived by the casual pose—he was going to get to the bottom of this. Only Meridith didn’t know what was at the bottom. She only knew this thing with Jake could not happen.
She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye. Not after that kiss. It had been easier in the dark. Too easy. She felt a flush climbing her neck as she remembered deliberately touching his bare flesh. She’d made no bones about wanting that kiss. What had gotten into her?
Even now her skin warmed, her pulse sped as if preparing for a repeat. She wished she could hide the flush that climbed her cheeks. Wished he would say something. Anything.
“What’s going on?” he said.
The wind breathed a cool breath across her skin, making her shiver. “What do you mean?”
“Come on, Meridith—that kiss . . .”
“It was just a kiss,” she said feebly, but her mind replayed the embrace, refuting her words.
“You won’t even look at me.” His voice was strained. “Maybe we need to turn out the lights.”
Her face burned. Even the wind couldn’t cool it. The grass at Jake’s feet shimmied and bowed over his scarred tennis shoes.
“I don’t know what to say. I—I just can’t do this.” She wrapped her arms around her middle.
“Why?”
She searched the ground for answers like she’d find it among the blades of grass, pull it up by the roots, and hand it over. If only it were so easy.
When nothing materialized, she chose the only answer that sounded logical. “I just broke my engagement a month ago. You can’t expect—”
“This isn’t about him, and you know it.”
An ache started behind her eyes. “I don’t know what it is.”
“Then there’s nothing to stop us, is there? Unless you don’t feel anything for me . . .” Self-doubt crept into his tone.
She let the sentence hang, unable to deny it. She prayed somehow he wouldn’t remember her response to the kiss or at least not remember it the way she did. She took three cleansing breaths. Four.
The briny air failed to calm her.
“No, it’s there, isn’t it.” It wasn’t even a question.
There was no point denying it. “All right, I won’t deny an attraction. But that’s all, that’s all there can be.”
“Why?”
She threw her hands up. “I’m leaving soon, moving hundreds of miles away, I’ve just inherited three kids, my engagement’s broken, my future’s uncertain . . .” Surely there was more, but her mind ran out of steam.
“Those are all things people work around.” He took a step toward her, then another. “There’s something else.”
A memory flashed in her mind. Her mother, in manic mode coming toward her, slowly, just like this. She’d been no more than nine years old, had been wrapped in her mom’s arms only an hour earlier, but an hour made all the difference. Now her mom’s face was red and mottled, and she was yelling. Meridith had covered her ears with her hands.
Jake’s movement snagged her attention. He was getting close.
She stepped back. 974 . . . 948 . . . 922 . . .
“Why are you running?”
She knew he wasn’t talking about the step. It hadn’t put nearly enough distance between them. He was there, right in front of her. 896 . . . 8 . . .
“Meridith.” He took her by the shoulders.
The motion drew her eyes to his, and she knew it with certainty: she was too far gone. As far gone as he, maybe more. What had she done? How was she going to escape with her heart intact? There weren’t enough calming breaths to fix this. She could count backward from a million and still be where she was now. Hopelessly in love with the man who made her feel too many things.
“You’re afraid.” His own statement seemed to surprise him.
Was she afraid? She took a frantic survey of her vitals. Was it fear or just this . . . she struggled to find the word. Why was it so hard? And why did he have to torture her with the particulars? She didn’t want to think about this. Why couldn’t he just drop it?
“What are you afraid of?” He gave her a little shake. “What, Meridith?”
“I don’t like the way you make me feel!” The words burst from her unbidden. It was as close to the truth as she could get. This inward searching was worse than feeling her way through the darkness. She felt like she’d just smacked into a wall.
Jake released her slowly.
She rubbed the place where his hands had been, hoping they were done. Please let’s be done.
“Explain.”
She should’ve known he couldn’t leave it at that. “I don’t know how.”
“Try.”
The wind blew her hair across her face. She welcomed the screen between them. “You make me feel . . . unsettled.” It was as close as she could come to explaining, but it didn’t do justice to what he did to her.
“That can be a good thing.” She heard amusement in his tone. It reminded her of when she first met him.
“Not for me,” she said, suddenly saddened to realize where they’d ended up all these weeks later. “I spent my whole childhood feeling unsettled. I’m done with that.”
The wind blew again, pulling the curtain of hair from her face. He was like this wind, pulling her one way one minute, another the next, changing course without warning.
“So . . . what? You’re going to live your life without love? What kind of life is that?”
“There are different kinds of love.”
“Like what you had with Stephen?” He jammed his hands in his pockets. “That’s not love, Meridith, that’s settling.”
A knot swelled in her throat. He could see it however he wanted, but that wasn’t going to change anything. She was done here. She turned and walked toward the house. The wind sucked at her shirt.
“You gonna let your fears dictate your life, Meridith?” he called after her.
But she didn’t stop. Didn’t stop until she’d made it up the stairs, to her room, to her bed, where she slipped under the covers and let herself cry.
Thirty-eight
Jake took three steps after her and stopped. She was already to the porch, then inside the house in a matter of seconds.
He forked his fingers through his hair, clutching fistfuls until his scalp tightened. He’d been confused until she’d looked at him, until he’d seen the look in her eyes. And then he knew.
She was afraid.
Afraid because he made her feel things, things she hadn’t felt with Stephen or probably anyone else, because this was real love. Not some tepid, watered-down version
.
But Meridith wanted tepid. She wanted safe.
His scalp burning, he lowered his hands. Something nudged his leg. Piper stared up at him, and Jake set a hand on her head, absently rubbed her ear.
He wondered what part of Meridith’s childhood had left her afraid of something as natural and necessary as love. Was it her mother’s mental illness? T. J.’s leaving her?
If she’d only open up to him, maybe he could help her sort it out. He was a patient man. He’d wait her out, love her until she realized he was safe.
But she was unwilling to try. Wanted to run as far and fast as she could from what he offered. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t make her try, force her to shed her fears. If only he could make her see what she was missing.
But he was running out of time. He was nearly finished with the house, had two weeks, tops, if she didn’t kick him out first. And soon after that she was leaving the island.
And she still didn’t know who he was.
Jake kicked the ground, sending a spray of sand into the air, then started down the beach steps. He had to get away from here, breathe some fresh air, think. Piper barked as she jogged along the property line, keeping pace with him.
Why did Meridith have to be so stubborn? Why couldn’t she just give him a chance? He knew they’d be amazing together. She’d opened her heart to the kids, admirably so. It couldn’t have been easy accepting her father’s other children, but she’d done it.
Why couldn’t she open her heart to him? Jake retrieved a shell and hurled it into the ocean. He needed to throw about a hundred more before he even began to work off the excess steam.
Piper barked and whined, having reached the property’s edge. He’d take off her collar and bring her along, but the dog was afraid to leave the yard.
Piper barked louder, almost squealing. Jake stopped, then walked toward the dog. He slugged through the thick sand, up the grassy incline.
Piper wagged her tail at his approach.
All right, Piper.
He leaned down, released Piper’s collar, and tossed it on the lawn. Backing away, he called her.
She stared back, wagging her tail.
“Come on, Piper!” He called again over the wind, patting his leg.
She danced around, her paws at the edge of the property. She let loose a sharp bark.
Jake retreated farther, down the incline to the sand. “Come on, girl!”
Piper whined, then sat, wiggling restlessly in the grass. The wind ruffled her fur.
“Piper, let’s go!” Stupid dog. Didn’t she know she was free? Jake glared at her.
Piper lifted her nose to the air, then lowered her head, nose to the ground. She looked up at Jake soulfully.
Jake marched toward her, up the slope, through the sea oats. He gathered Piper in his arms, a tense bundle of fur, carried her down the hill, and deposited her on the sand.
He walked away. “Come on!” A dozen steps later he turned. She was huddled in a circle, unmoving.
“What is wrong with you?” He gestured down the shoreline. “You have the whole beach, the whole world! You’re free!”
And yet she cowered in the sand, afraid to move.
Jake glared at the dog, catching his breath. Why wouldn’t she move? If she’d only try, she’d see it was safe.
Piper was frozen in place, her head down, her front legs half bent. Her ears lay flat, and her tail curled protectively around her body.
Just try.
But Jake could see that wasn’t going to happen. She was locked in place, helpless to move.
Jake settled his hands on his hips, staring at her. She looked pitiful cowering on the beach. A tremor passed through her body.
As quickly as the anger rose, it drained away. Jake gave a hard sigh, then walked back.
Piper lifted her eyes, watching his approach, her brows lifting, though her nose nearly touched the sand.
Jake sank beside her on the sand. He wanted to help her, wanted to fix the problem, but there was nothing he could do, was there?
Piper timidly sniffed his shirt, darted a glance at Jake. A moment later she rested her head on his leg and gave a deep sigh.
Jake set his hand on her side. “I know, girl. Believe me, I know.”
Thirty-nine
Meridith curled her fist and rapped on the door. Her eyes ached from lack of sleep. She was stifling a yawn when the door opened.
“Meridith! What a lovely surprise!” Rita’s wide smile and big hug were just what the doctor ordered.
“Sorry to drop in on you.”
“Nonsense.” Rita held up her rubber-gloved hands. “You’ve saved me from the dishes. Come in.”
The home smelled of lilacs and coffee, and when Rita offered a cup of the brew, Meridith accepted. She’d been in such a hurry to escape the house she hadn’t made a pot.
Meridith sat at the kitchen table. The weekend had been miserable. She’d pasted on a smile for the guests, went through the motions with the children, and tried not to wonder where Jake went when he disappeared.
She should ask him to leave. But the fireplace was half dismantled, and a new leak had sprung up on the kitchen ceiling below the children’s bathroom.
Rita set a steaming mug at her fingertips and sat across from her. Light streamed through the patio doors, but Meridith wished the sun would go away.
She lifted the mug and inhaled before taking a sip. The liquid warmed her throat, and she prayed the caffeine would lift her spirits.
“Honey, what’s going on? You were quiet as a mouse at church yesterday, and you look so tired. Are the kids giving you fits, or are you missing Stephen?”
Meridith shook her head. “The kids are fine. It’s not Stephen either.”
Rita laid her soft hand on Meridith’s arm. “Then what is it? I’m worried about you.”
Meridith ran her finger along the mug’s fat rim. “It’s—” The rest of the words clogged her throat. There were too many words, too many problems. “I don’t know where to start.”
“What happened to frazzle you so?”
She was frazzled. It was so unlike her. “Jake kissed me. Or I kissed him, I’m not sure.” She looked up at her friend, sheepishly.
The frown lines on Rita’s forehead dissolved, and her lips lifted at the corners. “I see.”
“No, you don’t. This is not a good thing.”
“Because of Stephen . . .”
“No . . . Why does everyone think this is about Stephen?” As soon as the words were out, Meridith sighed. “Of course everyone thinks it’s about Stephen. If I were normal, this would be about Stephen—oh, what is wrong with me?” Meridith palmed her forehead.
“It’s okay. Talk to me.”
Maybe Rita could give her perspective. Meridith opened her mouth, and the story of her childhood spilled like a glass of milk onto the table. From her parents’ arguments to her dad leaving to her mother’s bipolar disorder.
“Eva mentioned the mental illness once,” Rita said. “Talk about an unstable childhood.”
“That’s it exactly. There was no order, no control. I feel like my childhood happened to me, and I was helpless. I never knew what to expect. One day she’d be nearly suicidal and the next she’d be frantically energetic and so touchy I had to walk on eggshells.”
“You practically raised yourself. No wonder you’re so competent.”
“And then when I was twelve I found out the disease was hereditary. I spent my teenage years fearing I’d wind up like her.”
“But you didn’t.”
Meridith traced the threads on the quilted placemat, her thoughts returning to Jake. “I escaped the disease. But I feel so broken inside, Rita. And I think I’ve fallen in love with Jake, but he makes me feel . . .” She wished she could describe it. “The way he makes me feel terrifies me.”
“Why?”
“It feels, on some level, the same as when I was a child.”
“Like things are happening that you can’
t control?”
“Yes.”
“Honey,” Rita said gently. “That’s just love. And life. There’s very little we control. That’s why having God as our foundation is so important. He’s unshakable.”
“But with Stephen it was different.”
“Why?”
Meridith sighed. “I don’t even miss him, exactly. I miss the security and steadiness of our relationship.” She forced herself to vocalize the thought that had circled her head for a month. “Maybe I didn’t love him.”
“Maybe he was just comfortable. Less scary than real love, huh?”
Meridith buried her face in her palm. “I’m an idiot.”
Rita touched her wrist. “You’re human. At least you ended the relationship before any real harm was done. That was a blessing from God, you know?”
“But how am I going to find real love if I’m afraid of how it makes me feel? I don’t want to spend my life alone.” Rita made having a family and a healthy marriage look so easy. “How do you do it?”
Rita tucked her shiny hair behind her ears. “One day at a time. It’s not always been easy, and I know what you mean when you say love is scary.” She sipped her coffee. “Lee is actually my second husband. I married young, and my first husband cheated on me and left within a year.”
“I didn’t know.”
“When Lee came along, I was pretty cautious. But then I found the Lord and learned to make Him my foundation. Just knowing He’ll never leave me, never betray me, is enough, you know? If everything around me fails, I have that.”
Meridith had heard many similar comments since she’d come to the island. Things she’d never heard in her St. Louis church. She didn’t have what Rita had. God wasn’t the foundation of her life; He was more like a historical figure she admired.
“I mean,” Rita went on. “I trust Lee, love him to death . . . but I know he’s fallible, just as I am. Christ is the only one who loves me perfectly, and that’s enough for me to hold on to, enough to hold me steady.”
Meridith wanted that too. She was only beginning to see how much God loved her. She wanted that love to be her foundation so that everything else held steady.
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