“Sunday?” Nikki pressed.
“That won’t work either. How about the next weekend?”
“I’ve got a better idea. Let’s meet for dinner tonight. You and me. Julio’s.”
“How about takeout? I could pick it up and bring it to the house,” she said, remembering that Nikki couldn’t eat unless she stretched out.
“No. I’ll meet you there. I don’t want Jake hovering. He’s driving me crazy.”
“Okay, but I’ll pick you up.” She almost added, so you don’t have to drive. “It’ll give us more time to talk.”
“Great! It’ll be good to see you.” Nikki sounded so happy that Meredith vowed to make an effort not to let her new social life interfere with family time.
As soon as she hung up with Nikki, she debated calling Jake. He had season tickets behind home plate to the Rangers games but because of Nikki’s pregnancy hadn’t used them at all this year. He’d doled them out to clients, employees, friends. If Charlie and Blaine could get away from work, they’d love attending. But if she asked Jake for the tickets, he’d tell Nikki, and her sister would want to know who she was going with. Which would mean more questions about Charlie, more pressure to meet the family. Amazingly, she didn’t mind that so much. Not anymore. But what about Blaine?
What the hell. If he came up, she would explain that he was Charlie’s boss, his friend. It was the truth. She could deal with a few questions. It would be worth it to surprise them with the tickets. They’d be tickled pink.
Jake picked up on the first ring. “What’s wrong?”
“Is that how you say hello?”
“Only when I’m waiting for my wife to give birth,” he said.
“I just finished talking to your wife and she’s fine.”
“Thanks. I appreciate the update.” He really did sound relieved.
“Any chance I could use your Rangers tickets on Monday?”
“Sure. You want me to bring ’em by on my way home?”
“Nikki and I are going out tonight. I’ll pick them up then.”
Jake sighed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Don’t keep her out late, okay?”
“Hey, we’re almost there,” she said gently. “Just one more month.”
“Give or take a couple of weeks.”
“Are you still going to her doctor appointments?”
“Yeah.”
“Everything’s okay?”
“So they say.”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine.” She snapped her mouth shut. Where the hell had that come from? Had Nikki been right? Was there a glimmer of hope peeping through her perpetual pessimism?
After she hung up, Meredith tried to focus on work. She wasn’t any more successful than before the interruptions. But this time it wasn’t Charlie and Blaine distracting her. It was the internet icon at the bottom of her screen. What would it hurt to check out flights to Boston? She didn’t have to make a reservation.
It would be a waste of time, though. Cassandra and her dads would be in Texas in two months. If she wanted to see her daughter, a couple more months wouldn’t make a difference. Not after eight years.
The bug in the code still eluding her, she slid the mouse across the pad until the cursor hovered over the browser icon. She might as well goof off for a few minutes. Maybe a break would help her refocus. She clicked on the icon and typed in the search. More than a hundred flights to Boston filled the page. One was even nonstop. She clicked on the nonstop flight then checked return flights. It wouldn’t hurt to know what was available. Just in case.
She got as far as the passenger information page. Her fingers twitched over the keyboard before she grabbed the mouse and shut down the window. She couldn’t make reservations without talking to Chris and Larry first. Besides, she reminded herself, they were moving to Houston. They were busy. She could wait until August. Give her more time to think about it. She took a deep breath. Give her more time to talk herself out of it. Again. But this time, she wasn’t so sure of the outcome of that oft-repeated conversation because a bubble of nervous anticipation buoyed her heart, probably due to that glimmer of hope. This time she might actually go through with it.
* * *
She didn’t check her phone during dinner, but as soon as she dropped Nikki at home, she dug her cell out of her purse. She was relieved to see she hadn’t missed their call. It was almost ten when she opened her front door. She kicked off her pumps, fed Huggins, cleaned the litter pan, then jogged upstairs, cell in hand, to change into pajamas.
She sat cross-legged on her bed. She couldn’t wait any longer, not only to tell them about the Rangers tickets, but also to hear their voices. She called Charlie’s cell and after four rings it went to voice mail, which was odd. He couldn’t always answer his phone during the day because he was busy with guests. But by this time of night, he was usually done. Maybe he was in the shower. She tried Blaine’s cell, but it went straight to voice mail too. She left a quick message.
With nothing to do but wait, she stared at the drawer. Her fingers itched to slide it open, to dump the reminders on her bed. She crawled under the blanket and curled up on her side.
She took a deep breath and blew it out. Then another. It’s not like last time. They aren’t Dylan.
But a bit of pessimism broke through. She never would’ve guessed that Dylan would dump her so unceremoniously. What if she was wrong about Charlie and Blaine, too?
They’re busy. They’ll call tomorrow. It’s too late tonight. Tomorrow’s soon enough. I saw them just this morning. And if I don’t talk to them tomorrow, I’ll see them the next day. We’ve already made plans. They wouldn’t have made plans with me if they were going to dump me. I’m being too needy.
She hated needy women. She clenched the bed sheets in her fists, determined to keep her heart from shattering. If it did break, she’d hold the pieces tightly. That would make it easier to put them back together.
She didn’t sleep well, but her perspective had changed with the dawn. A sense of purpose had crept over her that had nothing to do with Charlie and Blaine. Ignoring her phone, she walked determinedly to the drawer, grasped it with both hands and yanked it all the way out. She placed it on the bed and lifted the photo lying on top. A petite girl with curly blond hair and a shy smile in denim shorts and a purple T-shirt. Her eyes were rolled up as she tried to see the blue butterfly perched in her hair like a bow.
Meredith had chosen open adoption, believing it would be best for her daughter. She still believed that. But she’d failed her daughter. Her own insecurities had kept her from making it the best. Time and again, Cassandra’s fathers and Cassandra herself had reached out to her. Each time, she’d rejected them, convinced that Cassandra was better off without her.
How could her daughter possibly be better off dealing with that abandonment, that rejection, day after day, year after year? Waiting for a phone call that never came, a mother she never saw. She was only a child. A child who wanted to know the woman who’d given birth to her. Such a simple request.
Meredith wrapped her arms around her empty womb and doubled over in pain. Tears burned her eyes, and she tasted the salt before she realized they’d escaped and were spilling down her face.
She was such a fool. Didn’t matter that she had three degrees and an IQ that was the envy of Mensa. She’d fucked up big time.
She could fix this. It wasn’t something she could remedy overnight. She wasn’t stupid enough to believe that. It would take time. She wouldn’t wait until her daughter moved to Texas. She lifted her head, took a few deep breaths, then grabbed a handful of tissues from her nightstand and wiped her face.
She’d start repairing the damage, now.
As she got ready for work, she planned. When she picked up her cell to tuck it into her purse, she saw t
he missed calls. From Blaine. She’d slept better than she’d thought, she realized while she connected to her voice mail.
“Meredith, it’s Blaine. Call me.” Her heart lightened. Not only had he called, but he’d also left a message.
She played the second message. “Meredith, you really need to call me.” Her delight lessened just a bit at the urgency in his voice.
Then the third voice mail. “Meredith, where the hell are you at two-fucking-oh-five in the morning. Call me.”
She stared at her cell and snorted. What did he expect? She’d been asleep at two-fucking-oh-five—which was what he should’ve been doing. But worry trumped her facetiousness. Something was wrong. He’d left three messages in the space of an hour and a half when he should have been in bed. What could it be? A fire at the lodge? An accident? Her heart seized. A gun accident? Had Charlie been shot? Hurt?
As she returned Blaine’s call, she tried to convince herself that he just missed her, just wanted to talk. Everything was fine. It was nice that he’d called, that he wanted to talk. It was great.
“Where have you been?” he answered brusquely.
“Sleeping,” she said. “And you?” She held her breath, waiting for his answer, hoping her imagination was overreacting.
“At the fucking hospital.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Meredith struggled to keep her foot light on the accelerator. She didn’t need the highway patrol delaying her. Didn’t need to end up in the hospital with Charlie.
Blaine had said Charlie was going to be okay—concussion, bruised ribs. They might even be home by the time she arrived. But she wouldn’t be convinced until she saw his smile, heard his voice, touched him.
He’d also tried to convince her she didn’t need to drive out. But if he hadn’t wanted her there, he shouldn’t have called. It was that simple. She couldn’t sit around at work, twiddling her thumbs, when Charlie was hurt, when he needed her. Someone had to take care of him when the hospital released him. Blaine would be too busy with guests, not to mention campaigning.
Her radio cut out, and her car announced, “Call from Blaine.”
She answered, “Is he okay?”
“Yeah. The doctor just signed his release papers. We’re heading home. Where are you?”
“Just passed the turnoff to the ranch.” She steered the car off the side of the road and prepared to make a U-turn.
“Meet us at the lodge. We’ll put him in my room. Make sure it’s ready for him.” He paused, and it sounded like he was juggling the phone. “Talk to him a minute, will you?”
“It’ll be a hardship, but yeah, I’ll keep him entertained.”
The next voice she heard was Charlie’s. “Hey. I’m sorry about this. I’m afraid it’s gonna put a crimp in our weekend.”
She wanted to berate him, ask him what had happened and why he hadn’t been more careful, but he sounded tired. “As long as you’re okay. You are okay. Right?”
“The doctors wouldn’t let me go if I weren’t.”
She didn’t want to worry him by quoting statistics to the contrary. Doctors were human, and humans made mistakes. “Okay.” She wanted to say I love you, but the words stuck in her throat. “See you in a few.”
At the lodge, the dogs greeted her, yipping and barking. She was as happy to see them as they were excited to see her. She took time to give them some love, scratching behind their ears, smoothing her hand down their backs. It soothed her a bit, made her feel more normal.
They quieted and trotted away when she opened the front door. The lodge was eerily silent. She said hello to Grant in the kitchen and told him Blaine and Charlie were on their way home. Then she prepared Blaine’s room, folding back the sheets and blankets, fluffing pillows, making sure there was a clear path from the door to the bed and from the bed to the bathroom. She placed a pitcher of ice water and a glass on the bedside table and racked her brain for something else to do but couldn’t think of anything. She grabbed her cell from her purse and hurried to the front porch, where she sat on the top step and waited.
She checked her watch. They should be here any minute, but there were no signs of Blaine’s truck. No distant hum of the engine. No plumes of dust. Where were they? She paced along the gravel in front of the house then clomped back and forth across the deck of the porch. She sat on the bench, on the top step, on the bottom step. She paced some more. She wished the dogs would come back and keep her company. She considered calling Nikki but hesitated to confide in her sister. Nikki had enough on her plate.
Finally, Blaine’s truck crept toward the lodge. She jumped up then waited. Was something wrong with the truck? Why was he creeping along? She could walk faster. When the truck was adjacent to the steps, she opened Charlie’s door before the truck stopped rolling. She inspected every centimeter of visible skin. The injuries seemed to be all on the right side of his body. Scrapes and bruises on his cheek, a scratch on the side of his nose and dried blood in his beard. Abrasions on one arm. A cut on the back of that hand. One side of his mouth was swollen.
She choked down a gasp, not wanting Charlie to know how bad it looked. “What took you so long?”
“Didn’t want to bounce him around any more than necessary,” Blaine said.
Charlie started to climb out of the cab. “He drives like—” he panted, “—an old lady. I thought we’d never...get home.”
Oh God, he even sounded bad. She hurried to help him, slipping under the arm that wasn’t scraped up.
“Hang on.” Blaine shouldered his way in from behind her. “Let me get him. He’ll crush you.”
She waited for Blaine to help him out then carefully propped her shoulder under his other arm, mindful of his ribs. They made their way slowly up the stairs.
“You wanna rest on the porch before we navigate the house?” Blaine asked.
“No,” Charlie said, his voice raw.
“We can stop in the living room if you want.”
Charlie’s chuckle was weak. “Yeah, that’d be good for business.”
“Fuck business.”
“Just help me—” he took a couple of shallow breaths, “—to the bedroom. I’m fine.”
Their progress was slow, but they finally eased him down on the edge of the bed. Meredith kneeled to remove his tennis shoes then helped him lean back against the pillows.
He sighed and closed his eyes. “God, it’s good to be home.”
“Can I get you something?” Meredith asked. “Water? Are you hungry?” The scrapes and bruises were bad enough, but it worried her even more that he was so pale.
“I just want to rest a minute.”
She spoke to Blaine. “Did the doctor give you care instructions?”
“Yeah. They’re in the truck with the meds.”
“I’ll get them,” she said, starting for the door.
“I’ll go. You stay here. I need to move the truck, anyway.” He leaned over Charlie and brushed his lips against the side of his mouth that wasn’t bruised and swollen. “I’ve been wanting to do that since yesterday, but I couldn’t because—” He frowned. “We need to figure out the public part of this.”
Meredith couldn’t agree more, but now wasn’t the time, not while Charlie was weak and vulnerable. He needed to stay calm and rest.
When Blaine left, she looked for something to do. But there wasn’t anything. She sat on the edge of one of the chairs under the window and observed him—the rise and fall of his chest, the color of his skin, the tightness around his mouth. When his lids fluttered open, she jumped up, ready to help with whatever he needed.
“Don’t stare at me,” he said. “It’s freaky.”
She wrapped her arms around her waist and hugged herself. “Okay.” But she continued to scrutinize him.
He sighed and closed his eyes
again. “Come lay down beside me.”
She eased into the opposite side of the bed, careful not to jostle him. She wanted to cuddle against him, kiss the scratch on his nose or the side of his mouth that wasn’t damaged. Instead she sat stiffly on her side of the bed.
“I can help you out of your clothes,” she said, desperate to do something.
His eyes opened, and one side of his mouth lifted in a wry smile. “Not tonight, dear. I have a headache.”
“I didn’t mean—”
The other side of his mouth lifted and a breathy chuckle escaped. “I’m teasing you. What’re you...doing all the way over there? Come here.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Breathing hurts. My head hurts.” He paused, catching his breath. “You touching me? Best painkiller ever.”
Cautiously, she slid across the bed until their shoulders touched, then their hips and thighs.
A sigh escaped him. “See? Better already.”
She snorted, not believing him for a minute. But some of the tension eased from her body. “What happened? You’re always so safety conscious.”
His smile dimmed. “It was stupid. I wasn’t paying attention. I hit a rut just right, lost control. ‘’’Course, it’s kinda hard to control an ATV when the wheels aren’t on the ground.”
“You’re lucky you weren’t killed,” she said, choking on the last word.
“Yeah.” He closed his eyes and patted the sheets with his hand until he found hers. He squeezed. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being here.”
His words floated into her chest and cupped her heart in pillowy warmth. The familiar urge to fight against that softness, that comfort, rose within her, but it wasn’t as desperate, wasn’t as strong. In fact, the fight felt like something she was supposed to do, not something she had any enthusiasm for. It was such a simple thing, but one she didn’t have much experience with. She wasn’t the easiest person to love or even like. Her family was required to love her despite her flaws. But men tended to bolt before the first date. And if they were brave enough to hang around for that rare event, her prickly attitude almost guaranteed they wouldn’t be back for seconds. But Charlie didn’t just want seconds, he wanted thirds and fourths and fifths. He wanted her around.
Tempting Meredith Page 25