Driftwood Lane (31 page)

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Authors: Denise Hunter

BOOK: Driftwood Lane
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A sense of déjà vu flashed through her head at the chaos. How had it ended up this way when she’d tried so hard for peace and stability?

She’d let down her guard, that’s how. She’d opened her heart, started to trust, began to love. But now she remembered why feeling was such a bad thing.

Love hurt. She’d forgotten how much.

Jake’s truck rumbled out of the drive, down the road. Meridith let go of the door.

“I hate you!” Noelle screamed. “I
hate
you!”

But the barrier was in place again, and Meridith hardly felt the jab of anger as she turned and took the stairs.

The road passed in a blur. Jake gripped the steering wheel until his fingers ached.

Meridith. All he could see was her face, her eyes, wild with anger. No, not anger. Noelle had been angry. Meridith had been enraged. Unlike Noelle, her feelings had been tempered with maturity and self-control, but it was all right there in her eyes.

And he deserved every ounce of it. He’d deceived her. Worse than that, he’d instructed the kids to participate in his deception. He was supposed to be the adult here, the role model. He remembered the hero poster Max had made of him and gave a harsh laugh. Some hero he was.

There were so many things he should’ve done differently, so many things he
would
do differently, if only he had the chance to do them over.

He pounded his steering wheel with his fist. The look in Meridith’s eyes haunted him. Beneath the fury he’d seen something that scared him. A deadness. A numbness that said what he feared most: that Meridith had shut down for good, that it was over between them.

Over before it had hardly begun.
I love you, Jake
. A fist closed around his heart. Her words teased him, tortured him. It seemed he’d waited so long to hear them, and now she must wish she’d never said them. Wished he had never shown up on her doorstep.

How could he have hurt the woman he’d come to love so much? And the kids had not helped matters. Noelle pitching her fit, Max and Ben . . . they could’ve given her the benefit of the doubt. She’d done nothing but look out for them, take care of them.

But that wasn’t fair. They were just kids, and Summer Place was their home. The blame belonged squarely in his lap. He swallowed hard, but the lump seemed to have taken up permanent residence.

He wanted to tell her how sorry he was. How wrong he was. How he’d give anything for a second chance. But she needed time. She was too upset for explanations, and no matter how badly he wanted to plead for forgiveness, she wasn’t ready to hear it.

Tomorrow
, he told himself as he turned toward his old apartment. Tomorrow she’d be ready to listen.

Forty-four

“Oh, honey . . . you look awful.” Rita stepped onto her stoop and pulled Meridith into her arms.

Meridith’s eyes filled with tears for the hundredth time in three days. There was a perpetual ache behind her eyes, a permanent lump in her throat, a hollow spot deep inside.

She drew a shuddery breath.

“It’s going to be okay.” Rita rubbed her back.

Meridith nodded, sniffling, but she didn’t see how.

“Come inside and have a seat at the table. I’ll pour you a nice big mug of coffee, and we’ll sort this out.”

Meridith took a seat at the table and folded her arms across the quilted placemat. She was so tired, she wanted to lay her head down and fall asleep. At night her thoughts spun, swirling, pulling her into their vortex. Even when she dozed, her mind still worked in half-sleep mode, and then her alarm went off and she dragged herself through another day.

Rita set a steaming mug in front of her, and Meridith took a sip. “You should hang a shingle outside.
The doctor is IN
.”

Rita’s wicker chair creaked as she settled into it. “What’s happened since we talked last?”

“Nothing. More of the same. The kids aren’t speaking to me. Noelle and Max won’t even look at me. Even Ben . . .” The little boy’s sad green eyes haunted her, and she blinked against the burn in her eyes. “They hate me.”

“They do not. They’re just angry and confused.”

“It’s been three days. What am I supposed to do? I can’t afford Summer Place. The business doesn’t make enough to support itself, and I can’t run it and have another job too. I can’t afford even the smallest house on the island. There’s hardly any equity and very little in mine back in St. Louis, and I’ve eaten through most of my savings getting Summer Place back into shape. There’s the life insurance benefits, but that money won’t be available for months and anyway, that’s no long-term solution.”

“Sometimes being a parent means making the hard decisions. The kids will adjust to the move. They’re angry now, but once you move to St. Louis they’ll settle in.”

“But what about their uncle?” She still couldn’t bring herself to say Jake’s name.

Rita sipped her coffee and set the mug down. She cocked her head. “You tell me.”

Though her tone was gentle, Meridith knew what she was getting at. “He lied to me, Rita. He got the job under a false identity, and he used that identity to gain access to my home. To my
heart
. I feel like such a fool! How could I have been so stupid?”

“No one thinks you’re a fool, honey.”

“He came to
live
there, for heaven’s sake, right under my nose!”

“Why do you think he did that?”

“I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to make me feel sorry for him. Well, I won’t. Maybe he was trying to look out for the children, or maybe he was trying to steal them from me, but that doesn’t excuse his behavior.”

“No, you’re right, it doesn’t. What does he have to say for himself?”

Meridith drew a calming breath, then shrugged. “I don’t know. I have no idea what he says or thinks, and everything he’s said to me is probably a lie anyway.”

“He hasn’t called?”

“I don’t answer.” After picking up the phone twice to find him on the other end, Meridith ordered caller ID. She’d lost count of how many times he’d called.

“How are you going to sort this out when you don’t know the truth?”

“The truth is pretty apparent, Rita.” She ran her hand over her face. “I’m so tired. I can’t sleep, and I keep listening for the children. I’m afraid they’ll sneak out while I’m asleep and go to their uncle.”

“Have they threatened to run away?”

“Not exactly. But when they do talk, it’s only to tell me they want to live with Uncle J, which apparently is
J
for Jake, not J-a-y like I thought.” Meridith wiped the corner of her eye. “Maybe I should let them go. But I love them. Isn’t that a trip? I came here wanting their uncle to take them, then I went and fell in love with them.”

“And him.”

Meridith shot a glare at Rita.

“Well, you did, honey. Denial won’t change it.”

But it wasn’t real. Maybe
her
feelings were, but his weren’t. He only wanted the children. All this time that she’d thought their uncle was irresponsible and incompetent, he was working a plan to get the kids.

“He used me.” Saying the words cut her to the core. “Do you know how that feels? I believed he cared for me; fell for it hook, line, and sinker. How lame can I be?”

Rita set her hand on Meridith’s arm. “Maybe he really does love you.”

The memories surfaced, unbidden. The feel of his palm cupping her cheek, the sweet taste of his mouth, the sound of her name on his lips.

But just as quickly, caution shut down the thoughts. Love was unsafe. It was unpredictable and cruel. She’d known it when she’d come here, but somehow the magic of the island lured her, made her forget. Jake made her forget.

“If only I’d realized who he was. If I’d known, it would’ve changed everything.”

“Maybe you should hear him out,” Rita said.

She shook her head. “No. I’m done with that. Done with Jake, done with love.”
Except for the children
, she added silently. They would be her focus. They would have a loving, stable home if it killed her.

Jake darted right. Wyatt followed. Jake plowed through him and put up the shot, scoring his tenth point of the game. The ball swished through the net and into his hands. He gulped in air, threw the ball to his friend.

“Dude,” Wyatt said. “This isn’t the Final Four.”

“Take the ball out.”

“Slow down.” Wyatt dribbled the ball, panting. “You’re killing me.”

“Sore loser. Come on.” Jake approached, smacked the ball from Wyatt, and drove it in for another basket.

“Congratulations.”

Jake shot the ball at Wyatt’s chest.

Wyatt caught it. “Why don’t you just wear yourself out. Or better yet, when you’re ready to face what’s really going on, come get me.” Wyatt shot the ball back at Jake and walked away.

Jake dragged the back of his hand across his forehead, then dribbled the ball, harder than necessary. He wanted to scream. He wanted to punch somebody.

But not his best friend. “Wait.”

Wyatt stopped on the porch, crossed his arms, turned.

Jake dribbled the ball toward the garage, threw it in the ball bin. It clanked against the sides, thudded against the other balls, and settled.

Wyatt was right. He was working out his frustration, but where was that getting him? Nowhere. “I’m losing her, man.” The words hurt his body as they left. “It’s killing me.”

Wyatt walked down the steps, sank onto the bottom one. He rubbed his jaw. “You talked to her?”

“She won’t take my calls.” He’d even tried calling when the kids were home, hoping they’d answer. “I really blew it, man. How could I have been so stupid?”

“Go over and talk to her face-to-face.”

“I tried. Three times. Never home.” It wasn’t like he couldn’t see her if he really wanted. She had to be there at night when the kids were sleeping, had to be there in the morning before they left for school. But it didn’t take a genius to know she’d only shut the door in his face. And it didn’t help matters to know he deserved it.

“She doesn’t want to see me, and can you blame her? She probably thinks everything was a lie, including my feelings for her. And how can I convince her I love her when she believes I’m a liar? She’ll think I’m only after the kids.”

“You have to talk to her somehow. Leave a message or something.”

“This isn’t the kind of thing you leave on voice mail.”

Wyatt shrugged and pierced him with a look. “It is if that’s the only way she’ll listen.”

Forty-five

Meridith stayed out until the children were due home from school. After leaving Rita’s, she took the real estate papers to the attorney’s office, picked up Max’s allergy prescription, and stopped for groceries.

When the kids returned, she greeted them at the door and got only a mumble from Ben and Max. Then they disappeared to their rooms until it was time to leave for the end-of-year spring concert.

After the show, Meridith praised their choirs on the ride home, telling them how proud she was of them and how darling they looked in their dress clothes, but it was a one-sided conversation that petered out before they hit the main road.

They needed to talk this out, but she was too exhausted tonight to take on one more thing. She glanced at the children in the rearview mirror. And they weren’t exactly receptive yet. Maybe after they had a good night’s sleep.

When they returned home, the kids took off for the stairs without so much as a good night. She’d given up on tucking them in after knocking futilely on their doors two nights in a row.

Meridith tossed her bag on the check-in desk and kicked off her heels. Nothing was going right. Her life had fallen apart, and she was helpless to fix it.

Summer Place was booking up nicely for the season, though. The Goldmans would have their hands full, but that was what they wanted. She glanced at the unfinished fireplace and reminded herself to let them know it was not usable and, judging from the outrageous quote she’d gotten, wouldn’t be anytime soon.

She checked the voice mail, knowing there would be more requests for bookings, and jotted down phone numbers and dates so she could return the calls. The last message stopped her.

“Meri, this is Jake, please don’t hang up. I know you don’t want to talk to me. That’s fine, just listen, ’kay?”

His voice, all deep and . . . Jake-like, stopped her. She pressed the phone closer to her ear.

“I know I only have a minute before this thing cuts me off. Remember when I came to Summer Place that first time? I’d heard about Eva and heard they’d granted custody of the kids to you. I came home to fight you for them, I admit that.”

Meridith pressed a fist to her stomach.

“I know I should have told you who I was right then, but when you thought I was there for the work, I started thinking how perfect this was, how I could get to see the kids and maybe—okay, I was trying to find reasons why you weren’t the best guardian, but I didn’t know you then. Was just trying to do what was best for the kids and—I was wrong. Meridith? I’m sorry you were caught in the crossfire. I’m sorry I hurt you . . .”

There was a long pause. Then a click. The recording followed. “If you’d like to save the message . . .”

Meridith returned the phone to the cradle, staring at the extension as if Jake would materialize from it. Part of her wished he would. Part of her wanted to pick up the phone and replay his message—the treacherous, self-sabotaging part that let her feelings and whims whip her around like a leaf in the wind.

He’d basically confirmed what she already suspected—that he’d come here to take the children from her. And if he’d gone to all that trouble to get them, wanted them that badly, could she trust anything he said? Anything he’d already said?

When the phone rang on Thursday afternoon, Meridith finished folding the fluffy guest towel, set it on the dryer, and went to check the caller ID. It was humbling how a ringing phone could put a tremor in her hands, a waver in her step. Even when Jake wasn’t here, he had power over her. Made her feel things. The sooner she got off this island the better.

She reached for the phone. Probably just a reservation request, maybe even Rita or—

The name on the screen stopped her speculation. The phone pealed again, and she set it down, jerking her hand away. It rang two more times. She pictured Jake on the other end, sitting on his bed or pacing his living room. Yes, he’d be pacing. He’d shove one hand in his pocket and his long legs would eat up the distance between the walls while the phone rang in his ear.

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