Driftwood Lane (Nantucket #4)(27)

The twinge of betrayal twisted into a hard knot.

A slamming drawer drew her eyes to Max. She stepped into the room. “Max, I’m sorry, but it’s not here. I only kept a couple items of clothing, and I didn’t keep the hat.”

She remembered it, though. It had been navy blue with a bird or waves or something. The bill was frayed and stained with dirt, and she’d nearly tossed it into the trash pile.

Max turned to her, his eyes brimming with tears. “It was his special hat.”

Meridith felt another slug to her middle. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Max. I was only—”

He rushed past her, fleeing into his own room. His door clicked shut. Noelle’s sobs could still be heard from across the hall.

“Maybe you should’ve asked them first.”

“Maybe you should mind your own business,” she said, still stung by the children’s reactions, still reeling with her own guilt. What right did he have to judge her? She’d had only the best intentions.

She thought of Max’s quiet, desperate search for the hat. Maybe she could get it back.

She looked at Ben, still in the protective cradle of Jake’s arms. That wasn’t good. Not healthy. The man was a virtual stranger, for goodness’ sake. She supposed the trip to the ER had bonded them, and the boy was no doubt missing his father. Still, Jake was a transient in Ben’s life. It would do him no good to get attached.

“Come on, Ben,” she said gently. “Let’s go downstairs and have a snack.” She pierced Jake with a look. “Jake has work to do.”

A shadow flickered on his face, and he stared back, defiant. Ben didn’t budge.

What right did the man have? Who did he think he was? She gave him a pointed look.

A moment later Jake released Ben. “Go on, little man.” He rubbed Ben’s head as the boy turned away.

Ben ambled down the back stairs, and Meridith turned to follow.

“Wait.” Jake’s eyes were dark as midnight in the hall’s shadows, the chandelier at his back.

“What?” she asked.

He waited until the sounds of Ben’s footsteps faded. “I know you think this is none of my business, but you can’t just clean their parents out of their life. They need to remember them, not forget them.”

T. J. had been her parent, too, or had Jake forgotten that? “You’re right. It’s none of your business.” She turned to go.

Jake grabbed her arm. “They’ve been hurt enough.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt them.”

Noelle’s sobs filled the gap.

“You don’t know anything about loss, do you? Well, I know all about it, and these kids need help.” He jerked his head toward Noelle’s room. “She needs comfort.”

“She won’t let me, I’ve tried!”

“You think you can just walk into her life and expect her to confide in you? You’re a stranger. You have to earn her trust. And Max spends too much time cooped up in his room, working on his models.”

“He enjoys it.”

“He needs to talk.”

“He talks plenty.”

“And all Ben does is cling.”

Meridith shook off Jake’s hand. “He’s just affectionate.”

Jake put his hands on his hips, looked away. He pressed his lips together.

From behind door number one Noelle dragged in a shuddery breath. If Meridith thought for one second it would do any good, she’d go in there.

Jake faced her again, his eyes snapping.

Meridith didn’t wait around to hear what else he had to say.

Meridith couldn’t sleep. The children’s reaction, combined with Jake’s, left her shouldering a heavy load of guilt and remorse. She turned over and stared at the dark ceiling. She wondered what Jake had meant when he’d said he knew all about loss. What kind of childhood had he had? What kind of pain had he suffered?

She could almost feel pity for him, except for his other comments. You don’t know anything about loss, do you? Especially that one. He didn’t have a corner on the loss market. She’d lost plenty, starting with her dad. The losses with her mother were more complicated. Loss of childhood, loss of security, loss of stability.

She remembered waking to a loud noise one night when she was ten. A loud clank jerked her from sleep. Her digital clock read 3:21. She pulled Emily, her Cabbage Patch doll, close into her side, listening, eyes wide in the darkened room.

A soft clatter sounded. Her heart thudded against Emily. Maybe it was her mother. But Mom had hardly been out of bed for weeks. Only for work, then she came home and disappeared under the covers until morning.

Meridith wanted to shut her door and lock it. But didn’t burglars have special tools to open doors? Besides, her door was old rickety wood. A grown man could kick it in if he wanted. That’s what happened in apartment 4B last year.

She had to get to the phone and call 911. If she could just make it to the living room . . . Meridith slipped out of bed, set Emily down, and tiptoed across the stiff carpet.

Her mother’s room across the hall was dark, the door half shut. A glow came from the kitchen, and Meridith crept along the wall. The noises increased as she neared the living room. She became aware of a smell.

Something sweet. Cake. The smell of it filled her nostrils, made her stomach grumble.