The Second Heart (31 page)

Finally the doorbell rang, and Rob and Amelia
rushed inside to comfort their daughter. Josh must have filled them
in over the phone. Meredith, physically exhausted and her emotions
spent, collapsed gratefully into her mother’s arms. Amelia’s eyes
were wide and red as she struggled to keep her own tears at bay,
wrapping her arms tightly around Meredith’s shoulders. Rob rubbed
Meredith’s back gently, scowling at the shattered lamp in the
fireplace, intense anger burning white-hot on his features.

Vi would never want to be on the receiving
end of that glare.

Now that the Carpenters were there to stay
with Meredith, Eleanor beckoned Vi and Josh to the kitchen with a
tilt of her head. Vi felt relieved to get out of the oppressive
atmosphere in the living room, though that relief was quickly
replaced by guilt. Meredith needed her support; Vi shouldn’t be so
anxious to escape.

Once they were in the kitchen, Josh began
talking immediately. “My parents are going to kill me! They weren’t
even supposed to know that we were here, and now there’s a dead guy
in the guest room and a crazy girl smashing the furniture!”

Vi gave him a horrified look.

Josh held up his hands defensively, saying,
“Hey, I know we need to be sensitive to what Meredith just went
through, and that’s why I didn’t say anything out there. But you
don’t know my parents. This is bad. My dad is a judge! He can’t
have a
dead guy
at his house!”

Eleanor’s gruff voice commanded both of their
attention. “We will deal with your parents when they return. Right
now, Josh, you need to call the police. Tell them you and Vi just
woke up and found Miguel like that.”

“The police are going to ask about the
smashed lamp,” Vi said quietly.

“Leave that to me,” Eleanor said. “As far as
the police are concerned, no one else was ever here. Do you both
understand?”

Vi and Josh nodded, both secretly glad that
Eleanor was there to tell them what to do.

* * *

Amelia held her daughter for a long time
while Eleanor, Josh, and Vi left the room to talk about logistics.
Amelia didn’t care about any of that; her whole focus was on her
little girl--her little girl who was far too young to be so afraid.
After a while, Eleanor strode into the room and pointed at the
shattered lamp. Amelia and Rob watched with rapt attention as the
lamp reassembled and then righted itself, sitting innocuously on
the hearth as though someone had placed it there.

“Where does it go?” Eleanor asked
brusquely.

“There,” Vi answered from the doorway,
pointing at an end table next to the couch.

With a flick of her wrist, Eleanor sent the
lamp sailing through the room, bringing it to rest on the
table.

Meredith had raised her head from her
mother’s shoulder and watched Eleanor’s display. “You’re like a
surly Mary Poppins,” she blurted.

Eleanor looked at her and laughed out loud.
“Well, I can’t say I’ve gotten that one before.”

Meredith didn’t respond, still staring at the
lamp. She seemed to have receded back into herself, and Amelia
wished she knew what her daughter was thinking. Amelia wondered if
Eleanor did. Could magicians read minds?

After some brief conversation, Eleanor
invited Amelia, Rob, and Meredith to return to her house. The fewer
people that remained to be interrogated by the police, the better.
Amelia agreed and was grateful that Meredith wouldn’t have to
answer any questions. After a quick check through the house to
ensure they weren’t leaving anything behind, they said their
goodbyes and left.

Amelia took Meredith out to the car and sat
in the back seat with her, helping her to buckle in. Meredith
seemed so brittle that she would break, and Amelia wished more than
anything that she could take the pain and fear away. The trees and
billboards and cars whooshed past the windows as they drove to
Eleanor’s house, but Amelia kept her eyes on Meredith, gently
stroking her hair.

“I was a coward,” Meredith said suddenly.

“What do you mean, sweetheart?”

“I hesitated,” Meredith continued, almost to
herself. “If I had run out and attacked her right away, maybe she
wouldn’t have killed Miguel.”

“No,” Amelia said firmly. “There’s nothing
you could have done.”

“And then, if I hadn’t decided to run… maybe
I could have won. Maybe she wouldn’t still be out there.” A single
tear trailed down Meredith’s cheek.

“Shh, no,” Amelia murmured. “You were right
to run, Meredith. She could have gotten you, too.” Amelia shuddered
at the thought, wrapping an arm around Meredith and squeezing her
tight. Meredith rested her head on Amelia’s shoulder gratefully,
closing her eyes and remaining silent for the rest of the car
ride.

At Eleanor’s house, Amelia took Meredith into
the bathroom and helped her take a shower and put on clean clothes.
She hadn’t shampooed her daughter’s hair since Meredith was a
little girl, and the memories the task conjured up caused fresh
waves of protectiveness to wash over Amelia. Something had to be
done. Meredith couldn’t live like this, and neither could she.

After Meredith was clean and clothed in the
outfit that Vi had bought for her, Amelia led her into Eleanor’s
bedroom. The nurse had just finished putting fresh sheets on the
bed, and she stood in the doorway with the bundle of old sheets in
her arms, watching as Amelia tucked Meredith in. Meredith rolled
over and closed her eyes, exhausted from her sleepless night.

Eleanor turned to leave, but Meredith’s voice
stopped her. “Eleanor?”

“Yes?”

Meredith opened her eyes, and their shocking
blue color stood out starkly against the outer edges, which were
red from crying. “Please don’t make me leave again.” Her voice was
small and humbled.

Amelia sat on the edge of the bed, watching
Eleanor’s reaction keenly. Amelia agreed entirely with her
daughter’s sentiments, since Eleanor knew about magic and could
protect them.

Eleanor gave them an understanding smile. “Of
course you’ll stay here,” she said. “Now rest.”

Amelia followed Eleanor out of the room,
hovering quietly while the older woman loaded the armload of sheets
into the washing machine. Once the machine was set to its task,
Eleanor beckoned Amelia to follow her to the kitchen, where she set
a kettle of water on the stove to boil.

“I had a son,” Eleanor said at last. She
leaned against the kitchen counter and met Amelia’s gaze. “He died
a long time ago, but I’ve never forgotten what it feels like to be
a mother. To worry. I want you to know that.”

Amelia resisted the urge to look around the
room at Eleanor’s simple home, to scrutinize it in this new light.
Amelia hadn’t considered the possibility that Eleanor was anything
but an old spinster, living out a lonely, spare existence. That was
certainly how the nurse had presented herself. She obviously had a
lot to learn about the older woman. After a moment, Amelia
recollected herself and said, “I’m sorry. I couldn’t imagine what
it would be like to lose a child.”

“No one ever can, until it happens to them.”
Eleanor removed the kettle from the heat and poured them each a cup
of tea.

Amelia wrapped her hands around the warm cup
gratefully. “What are we going to do?” Her tone of voice spoke the
volumes of worry that she couldn’t find the words to express.

Eleanor took a contemplative sip of her tea.
“There is a lot that Meredith still does not understand, and I need
her to trust me. I need you all to trust me. Perhaps it’s time to
tell you all the rest of the story.”

After Eleanor
and her mother left, Meredith lay awake in bed, unable to sleep.
She couldn’t take her mind off of what she had seen, and how close
she herself had come to being killed. She thought about Miguel’s
parents, and whether the police had notified them yet of their
son’s death. If Eleanor couldn’t protect her, soon it would be Rob
and Amelia getting that call. Her gut wrenched at the thought.

Launching herself out of bed, Meredith barely
made it to the bathroom in time to throw up. Her entire body heaved
as she emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl.
Once she finally stopped retching, Meredith remained on her knees
in front of the toilet, draping her upper body over the bowl. She
rested her cheek on the toilet seat in exhaustion, too tired to
crawl back to bed, and worried that she might have another bout of
sickness.

The next thing she knew, Rob was gently
shaking her awake. “Come on, Mere-bear,” he said in a soothing
voice. “Let’s get you back to bed.” He hoisted her to her feet and
led her back into the bedroom.

Meredith compliantly sat down on the bed and
waited while Rob got her a glass of water. She drank the entire
glass in three long swallows, grateful to get the taste of bile out
of her mouth. Then she lay down and allowed herself to be tucked
in. Rob lay on the bed next to her, gently stroking her hair and
murmuring softly for her to sleep. She drifted off once again,
comforted by her father’s presence.

She awoke again some time later, roused by
the sound of Rob snoring loudly beside her. The sun came in at a
low angle through the window, a deep shade of golden yellow. It was
late afternoon. The sleep had done her good, and her stomach
grumbled for some food. As she lifted the sheets out of the way to
climb out of bed, Rob woke up with a start, inhaling deeply.

“Hey, brat,” Rob greeted her, instantly
alert. His face was creased with concern.

“Hey, Dad,” Meredith replied with an attempt
at a smile.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better, I think,” Meredith said truthfully.
She continued slowly, talking aloud as she took stock of her own
emotions. “I still feel scared, but really sad, too.”

“Sad about Miguel?” Rob pressed.

“Yeah…” Meredith hesitated, trying to decide
whether to say more. She felt guilty about what she was thinking,
feeling like it revealed just how selfish she really was. She took
a deep breath and continued, “I feel like I wasted so much time
with Miguel. Mom was right; I kept him at arm’s length for no good
reason. And then, when I finally decided to open up to him, to
actually give us a chance… he died. He died before I ever had the
chance to love him.”

Rob gently laid a hand on Meredith’s forearm
as he waited for her to continue.

“I’ve never loved anyone, like romantically,”
Meredith went on, finishing in a rush, “and now I’m probably going
to die before I ever get to.”

Rob’s eyes snapped open, taken aback. “Wow,
that’s really disappointing to hear,” he said disapprovingly.

Meredith flushed, ashamed that she was
thinking more about what she would miss out on, rather than
thinking about Miguel.

“I thought I had raised a fighter,” Rob said
with a frown. “One who was in charge of her own fate.”

It was Meredith’s turn to be surprised. “You
didn’t see the protégé, Dad,” she explained. “You didn’t see what
she could do.”

Rob was quiet for a while as he considered
how to respond. Then he conceded, “That may be so.” He took her by
the hand and squeezed it hard before continuing, “But if she really
is going to kill you, the least you could do is make it hard on the
bitch.” He gave her a wry smile.

Meredith didn’t respond, thinking about what
he had said. Finally, she nodded. “When the time comes,” she
promised, “I will.”

“You’d better.” He wrapped his arms around
her in a tight hug.

Meredith returned the embrace, the smell of
Rob’s flannel shirt reminding her of her childhood. When she was a
girl, there was nothing that a hug from Dad couldn’t fix. She
wished that were still the case.

As they were hugging, Meredith’s stomach
growled loudly again, reminding her that she needed to eat
something. She hadn’t had anything all day, and last night’s dinner
was flushed down the toilet. Rob gave her an extra squeeze, and
then they left the bedroom in search of food.

Out in the living room, Eleanor and Amelia
were watching the news. They both looked up as Rob and Meredith
entered.

“Hi honey,” Amelia greeted her, standing for
a hug.

Stepping into her mother’s arms, Meredith
answered Amelia’s unasked question, “The sleep did me good, I
think.”

“That’s good. You hungry? Vi called. She and
Josh are on their way with burritos.”

Meredith’s mouth watered at the mention of
burritos. Gesturing toward the TV, Meredith asked, “Anything about
Miguel?”

“Not yet,” Eleanor responded. “But it just
started.”

Meredith sat between her parents on the sofa,
and they all turned their attention to the TV. There was a story
detailing the ongoing repair efforts from the natural disasters.
The university would be reopening the following Monday. Upon
hearing that, Meredith started. She couldn’t imagine going back to
school. So much had changed since the last time she had been there.
When she went back, Miguel’s chair would be empty. Tears filled her
eyes, and she dabbed at them covertly, not wanting to have to
reassure her parents.

The next news story was a human-interest
piece about a family that had been reunited with their dog after
losing him in the flood. Meredith, despite being a fervent animal
lover, quickly lost interest in the story. She looked down at the
clothes that Vi had picked out for her, noticing them for the first
time. The clothes looked like they could have come out of
Meredith’s own closet--a simple chocolate brown V-neck tee shirt
and a pair of cut off denim shorts. She smiled a little, grateful
for the friend that knew her so well.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang, announcing
the arrival of dinner. There was a bit of bustling as everyone
settled around the coffee table and unwrapped their burritos.
Meredith was struck by the similarity of the scene to the night
before, when they had all eaten pizza in much the same way.
Yesterday, Meredith had felt almost hopeful, and happy. Today… Her
vision swam again, and she felt Vi squeeze her knee under the
coffee table.