by Len Webster
Sam’s eyes met Meredith’s again. It was as if the room around them had silenced. He wanted to speak to her, but then again, he didn’t. He didn’t want Meredith to know what kind of person he was. When she had screamed his name, he was bewildered that she knew his name at all. Sam Michaels was just someone who sat near her in a classroom.
An elbow met the side of his arm, and the contact caused him to wince. Sam reluctantly turned his head to see Phil raking through his bag.
“Sam, you got chewy?” Phil asked.
“No,” Sam replied and returned his attention to Meredith.
To his disappointment, she was smiling at Tony Pascals. Sam glanced down to see his right hand clenched in a tight fist; his knuckles had turned a vibrant white. He relaxed his fist and examined his hand.
“Yeah, I know. Mondays suck, but at least, we’re together,” his English teacher, Miss Maddock, announced.
Sam reached over and grabbed his pen, hoping to ignore his need to see if Meredith Driessen had looked his way.
Beth: Sam, I’m sorry. I’m keeping it. Please understand.
The air was forced quickly out of his lungs. It was as if he’d been punched in the stomach. Keeping it meant more trouble, more pain. Beth couldn’t keep it. It had already destroyed his family. Sam rested his forehead against the wooden locker and hoped oxygen would enter his body.
“Are you okay?”
Her sweet voice had him turning his head. The cautious smile she gave him had him standing straight.
“I’m fine,” Sam replied.
“Okay,” Meredith said.
They stood in the empty hall. Silence surrounded them, just as it had at the river. Sam noticed the slight dimple in her cheek. Meredith pressed her lips together then nodded once as she walked past him. Sam quickly turned around to watch her ponytail sway with each step she made. The sunlight that passed through the glass door made Meredith’s blonde locks glow. Just like at the river when the morning rose.
“Meredith,” he called.
She stopped, waiting for a second before she turned to face him. Then she tilted her head at him. “Yes, Sam?”
Nerves succumbed him. He felt things around her. No one had made him feel emotions for a long time. Sam combed his fingers through his short brown hair, buying time in her presence just that little bit longer. He should thank her for stopping him. He didn’t want his mother to be alone. Not with Beth now in their lives forever.
Instead of thanking her, Sam asked, “Why is your dog named Dutch?”
Sam dropped his hand and closed his eyes tightly.
Stupid question.
When he opened his eyes, a smile slowly spread across Meredith’s lips. “My parents are Dutch. My papa wanted to call him Limburgse Vlaai.”
“I had no idea you were Dutch,” Sam said, surprised.
Meredith shrugged a shoulder. “You’ve never wanted to get to know me, Sam.”
The sad glint that washed over her blue eyes made Sam feel guilty. He never thought Meredith knew him or would want to know him. She was smart, popular, and sweet. Loved by all. Everything about her was strikingly beautiful. What did Sam have? He was tall, like his father, and had plain brown eyes. He had no marks or characteristics making him different or stand out. He was Sam. To Meredith, he was more than likely the boy who tried to drown himself.
“Why did your dad want to call your dog Limbergcee—that word?”
Meredith let out a soft laugh. “Limburgse Vlaai. It’s, uh, my father’s favourite food from back home.”
Her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink. A colour he wanted to see again and again.
“His favourite food?” Sam asked with a smile.
She nodded. “It’s a Dutch pie with cherries or apricots.”
This time, Sam laughed. “Dutch was about to be named after a pie?”
Meredith joined his laughter. “A delicious pie, if that helps. Mamma didn’t want to be calling out a dessert when Dutch went for a walk or a run. So she called him Dutch instead. We’ve caught Papa calling him Vlaai several times. He just loves pies.”
Sam’s father didn’t like pies. He didn’t like many sweet things. Sam frowned. Since Beth’s news, his father hadn’t spoken to him. He had left, abandoning his wife and son. Embarrassment and pride broke families. Sam’s head fell, and he noticed Meredith reaching into the pocket of her blue skirt and pulling out a pair of woollen gloves.
“I’m sorry, Meredith,” Sam uttered once he’d looked up and met her eyes. “I didn’t mean to scratch your hand like that.”
Her face softened. “You never have to be sorry, Sam.”
His heart twisted at the genuine sweetness in her voice.
No, Meredith.
I’m always sorry.
For you, I’m sorry the most.
Sam shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “Would you have really followed me if I had let go?”
Meredith put on the left glove and then the right. “Sam.” She’d spoken so softly that he’d almost missed it.
“Yes, Meredith?”
She wrapped the scarf around her neck and took a deep breath. “For you, Sam, I would never hesitate.”
A smile graced her lips. Then she turned and walked out of the building, the light drawing her away from him.
chapter four
MEREDITH
Present
Samuel Michaels, Labor Party Speechwriter.
“He did it,” Meredith breathed as she held his business card.
The rain that fell started to spread the ink embedded in the card. She tilted her head back to look at the grey skies, letting the rain soak her. Seeing him brought all the memories back. Her heart had beat for the first time in years.
She felt.
Ignoring the strange sensation that consumed her, Meredith stared at the tracks to watch the raindrops pelting the wildflowers. They were beautiful and free. They could be whatever they wanted. Grow wherever they wanted. Sam had broken her heart. He had pushed her away, but she had fought back until he ended it and chose.
He chose Beth.
He chose his son …
Their son.
She looked at the card. He had stopped her from jumping. She wasn’t even sure if she was going to jump. He seemed so sure that she wouldn’t attempt it after he had left. Meredith slipped the limp card in her cardigan pocket. She looked around at the platform and took a step back behind the yellow line.
A few weeks after high school graduation, Meredith had moved to Rotterdam, South Netherlands, to live with her grandparents for a short time before moving out. Being away from her parents was tough, but being away from Dutch, her red border collie, was heartbreaking. Pictures and video messages weren’t enough. Each Christmas, she’d return and spend weeks with her parents and dog. She had never bumped into Sam during her visits. She had been careful and calculated. She didn’t want to see his son or the mother, Beth.
Meredith had accepted that she would come third or even fourth in Sam’s life. She had accepted the pregnancy after he had hidden it from her. She was determined to stand by his side, but he’d chosen to love Beth more.
The night she had discovered his abandoned car, she had searched desperately by the river for him. She wanted to save him, and if she couldn’t, she’d follow him until her last breath. For years, she wished he’d notice her, to be the receiver of his love, but she was just ‘the popular girl who everyone loved’ to him. She was more, but people had already subjected her to an image.
An image she thought Sam had never believed to be true.
But he had.
Meredith had taken two steps back before she turned around and walked into the station. Water dripped off every part of her as she made her way to the doors that would lead her out to the ramp.
“Hey!” a woman yelled.
Turning around, Meredith stared at a young woman with jet-black hair fastened in a ponytail.
Meredith glanced down and saw the puddles she’d made. “I’m sorry.”
The young woman tilted her head. “Oh, I’m not yelling at you for that. It’s raining. I just wanted to see if you’re okay.”
She nodded at the station worker. “Fine, thank you,” Meredith replied and then walked out through the electronic doors.
She took out the soaked business card as soon as she stood under the sheltered ramp. She held it between her fingers, and with the help of the wind produced by the high-speed passing train, she let the card fly.
I’m saving you, Sam.
chapter five
SAM
Seven years ago
It had been two weeks since Meredith last spoke to him. The only class they had together was English, and most times, he’d look her way and wonder what went through her mind. Sam wanted to explain why he was at the river and why he wanted death rather than life, but it meant someone knowing. It meant saying goodbye to a political career.
It meant accepting the future.
It means a future entwined with Beth’s.
Sam took out his Australian politics textbook and stared at it. His future had always been so clear. Become a minister. Change the world. Do some good. Make history. However, his life had diverted. His life no longer followed the plan.
“My favourite world leaders were Winston Churchill and Woodrow Wilson. Truman is up there, too, and even Bob Hawke.”
He craned his head to see Meredith standing next to him. She took the textbook out of his hand and studied it. The way she pursed her lips had him fascinated and drawn, more so than when he first laid eyes on her at thirteen.
“Why Woodrow Wilson?” he asked.
Meredith looked up and raised her brow. “The man’s principles are what based the League of Nations.”
An unbelievable chuckle escaped Sam. He was impressed. “The League of Nations failed.”
She handed him back the book. Sam placed it in his bag and pulled the bag out of his locker.
“Some things have to fail for a better understanding. That’s why the UN is so successful. Countries learnt from their mistakes when it comes to handling international affairs.”
“What are you? A politics enthusiast?” Sam asked. He didn’t even attempt to hide the humour in his voice as he closed his locker.
Meredith shook her head. “No. History lover and appreciator. Unfortunately, politics is always entwined.”
The serious response had him nodding.
Meredith, I will never understand why you would want to be around me.
Breathe the same air as me.
Or live the same seconds I live.
I am inferior to your supremacy.
“There it is,” Meredith stated.
Sam’s brows furrowed, confused. “What?”
“Something in you just clicks. You suddenly get lost in your thoughts. It’s the same look you had that night.”
Beth is pregnant.
I can’t be a politician.
I can’t want you, Meredith.
Not you.
He took in a sharp breath of air at the thought. He could never have Meredith. A weak man would never want to drown himself. A weak man was not the man who ended up with Meredith Driessen. A weak man wasn’t the man who stood next to her outside his locker.
“It’s nothing. I don’t need saving, Meredith. Look, thanks for that night. Your act of heroism is done.” Sam hated the painful expression that overcame Meredith’s face. He threaded his arms through the straps of his bag, letting them rest on his shoulders.
“Okay,” she said, her eyes not quite meeting his.
“Goodbye, Meredith.” He didn’t give her time to reply. Instead, Sam pushed past her and made his way to the doors. Truth be told, he wanted to turn around and apologise for being an asshole to her, but Meredith was too sweet to be pulled into the disaster that was his life.
Sam pushed the door open and marched towards the car park. He had walked across the basketball courts when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Not stopping, he pulled it out to see a new message.
Unknown: Sam, it wasn’t an act of heroism. I won’t ask for anything. I don’t want anything but to know that you’re okay. Have you ever thought that maybe you saved me? Like I said, I’d never hesitate when it comes to you, Sam. I’m sorry for intruding on your life. –Meredith.
His heart leapt at her words. She’d never hesitate when it came to him. A thousand possibilities to her meaning succumbed his thoughts. Sam knew she’d always try to save him if she were given the same night to live again.
Beth.
Remember Beth.
Sam: You should have let me die, Meredith.
When he reached his black Jeep, he opened the driver’s side door and threw his bag in. Just as he was about to let his phone join his bag, it vibrated.
Unknown: That was never an option, Sam.
Sam got in the car, closed the door, and held his phone tightly in his hands. He had saved Meredith’s number before he replied.
Sam: You always have options. You were careless.
Meredith: What if the roles were reversed? Would you have let me die? Would you have stood there? Could you live the rest of your life knowing you could have saved me?
The heaviness in his chest made it hard to breathe. The concept of it being the other way around was unimaginable.
Meredith: Because I couldn’t, Sam. I’m nothing to you. I get that. I see how other girls look at you and how you look at them. But when you stare at me, it’s like my existence is an inconvenience to you. If you had died, I don’t think I could ever face your parents and tell them that I did nothing to save you. I wish someone had saved me when I needed it.
Sam: I couldn’t possibly imagine PERFECT MEREDITH ever needing to be saved. My life isn’t yours to monitor. Are we done here?
Meredith: Okay.
What?
Sam: Okay? Is that all you have to say? You only ever say ‘Okay.’ Surely, you know more words.
Meredith: I do, but I can see they’re wasted here. I’m sorry, Sam. I’ll leave you alone.
You never have to be sorry, Meredith.
It was what he wanted to reply, but he didn’t. The desperation and determination that flickered in her eyes had marked him for life. He had gone from infatuation to more. And Sam couldn’t afford more with Meredith.
Sam: Thank you.
Sam threw his phone on the passenger seat. Frustration and stupidity fuelled him. He had hurt Meredith for being Meredith. For being sweet and kind. For directing compassion his way.
He sat in the driver’s seat staring out at the green Mazda hatchback parked in front of him. After some time, Sam shoved the key into the ignition, turned his Jeep to life, and pulled out of the student car park. He hadn’t driven a hundred metres when the rain had begun to pour. Sam glanced at the clock on the dash to see that his exchanges with Meredith would get him home later than expected. At least he’d missed the school traffic.
Reaching over, Sam turned the radio volume louder as it played “Highway to Hell” by AC/DC. His fingers tapped in time with the music, his head nodding along. The rain that washed over the windshield had Sam turning the wipers to a faster setting. A dark blob caught his eye as he slowed down. Once he got closer, he noticed her blonde hair and blue ribbon. The nerves that he felt around her had resurfaced, and he swallowed hard at the sight of her drenched form.
Drive, Sam.
Leave her.
He should have listened to his brain. He should have continued to drive, but he hadn’t. Instead, he drove ahead of her and pulled over. Sam reached for his phone and pulled up her number. He had shaken his head before he balled his fist and called her.
“Sam?”
she asked, surprised, once she had answered his call.
“Get in the car, Meredith,” he said, emotionless.
It was a demand.
Perfect Meredith didn’t get sick.
“Is that Jeep yours?”
“Yes, get in.”
“It’s okay, Sam. I’m fine,” Meredith assured.
He squinted to see her walk past his car.
What is she doing?
He was out of the car before he could even answer his own question. The rain that hit him didn’t make him flinch. He closed the door and rushed towards her.
“What are you doing?” he yelled after her.
Meredith turned around and placed her phone in the pocket of her skirt. “Going home,” she said loudly over the sound of thunder. Parts of her blonde hair were stuck to her face, and her school uniform had soaked right through. “I missed the bus. Another one isn’t for a while. I’d make it home before it arrived,” she explained.
“Why did you miss the bus?” he asked as he wiped the water from around his eyes.
He noticed that she didn’t have panda eyes or smudged makeup on her face. The one time Beth had been in the rain, her makeup had run, and her hair had curled. It only confirmed his thought. Meredith went natural. No makeup. And she was beautiful without it.
She gave him a tight smile. “I was by your locker. Ours are in different parts of C-block. And on my way to the bus stop, I was texting you.”
Guilt.
So much guilt hit him.
Drowned him.
“I’ll give you a lift. I just”—he paused at the realisation—“need directions. I don’t know where you live.”
“I don’t—”