Driftwood Lane (Nantucket #4)(40)

“Might as well eat with us if he wants,” Max said. When Meridith shot him a look, he added, “I mean, we got plenty.”

“Have plenty,” Noelle said.

“He has to eat anyways,” Ben said.

Jake looked at her, silently asking permission.

Oh, for heaven’s sake. “Fine.” She stabbed her lettuce with her fork.

“Just need to wash up real quick.”

Meridith was no fool. They’d just set a precedent. Now the man was going to be at their dinner table for weeks. She felt a headache coming on. A very long one.

Later that night, Meridith lay in bed reading one of the books on grief. As she flipped a page, she heard the muted thumps of Jake’s steps on the main stairs. He’d gone to collect his things after dinner and had settled into his room.

The kids were safely tucked away for the night. She’d had just enough space heaters and had set them up after dinner to make their rooms cozy before bedtime. She hoped they were having better luck than she. It was hotter than a frying pan in her room. She adjusted the heater’s thermostat again and crawled back into bed, kicking the quilt down.

After the stressful day, she was grateful for a moment’s quiet to read and relax.

As if the very thought jinxed her, the cell rang. Meridith reached for her phone, charging on her nightstand, disconnected the cord, and answered without checking the screen.

“Hi, honey,” she said.

“Just because we’re living together doesn’t mean you can call me honey.” Jake’s deep voice rumbled across the line. Meridith sprang upright and pulled the sheet over her bare legs.

He can’t see you, goofball.

“Jake. Why are you calling—you’re right down the hall—and how did you get my number?”

“There’s a locked door between us—quite sturdy, I might add— and you called from your cell Sunday. I saved your number just in case.”

She sighed hard. “Just in case what—you needed fresh towels?”

He laughed, deep and throaty. She resisted the pull of it.

“My towels are fresh and abundant, but thanks for asking.”

Her heart was all up in her throat, and she didn’t know why. She knew this was going to happen. Knew having him here would be a constant pain in the—

“Meridith?”

“What do you need, Jake?”

“Forgot to tell you a friend’s coming at seven to help bring the furnace in. Just didn’t want you to freak out when you came down the stairs and saw a stranger.”

“Oh. Okay.” She was glad he’d told her, but she wanted off the phone. Wanted to pretend Jake wasn’t on the other end of the line. Wanted to pretend Jake wasn’t just down the hall. “Anything else?”

“Nope, that’s it.”

“All right. Well, good night.”

“Night, Meri.”

She didn’t bother to correct him before turning off the phone and plugging it back in.

Still hot, she kicked the sheet back down and settled into her spot just in time for her phone to ring again. What now? Something else he’d forgotten to mention?

She sighed hard, grabbed the phone, and flipped it open. “What?”

“Meridith? You okay?”

Stephen. Jake was making her lose it. “Sorry. I thought it was— the guy doing the repairs on the house.”

“Why would he call so late?”

Tell him about the trade. Tell him Jake’s staying here. “He just called a minute ago to let me know about a delivery in the morning.”

“I thought you cancelled the repairs.”

Tell him now. “Well, I’d already paid for the furnace, so it seemed a waste not to have it installed.”

“Oh, well, I hope he’s not putting too much stress on you. Between the kids, the household problems, and financial woes, you’ve got enough to deal with.”

If you only knew. “I’m fine.” A subject change was in order. “How was your day?”

“Busy, but good. I miss you, though.”

“You’re too busy to miss anything.”

“True, true.” He chuckled, a high-pitched haw, haw, haw. She remembered Jake’s deep throaty laugh, then chided herself for comparing.

“Any word from the uncle?”

“No, and it’s making me angrier by the day. How dare he fall out of contact with his loved ones for so long, you know? It’s supremely irresponsible.”

Stephen sighed. “I wish he’d just hurry so you could come home.”

She had to tell him, at least give him a hint. “Stephen, I’m not sure their uncle is suitable. The more I hear about him and the longer he stays away, the more I worry.” There, she’d said it. Well, not it, but she’d dropped a clue. She waited a full three seconds for his response.

“He’s the only option though, right? I mean, there’s not some other relative hiding in the woodwork, is there?” He gave a wry laugh.

“No. He’s the only other one.” She threw in that word, other, to remind him she was a relative too. He had to start seeing her, seeing them, as a viable option, because she was not deserting these kids. Surely he’d understand that. Even though they weren’t related to him, surely he’d see it was the Christian thing to do.