Driftwood Lane (Nantucket #4)(56)
“We’re okay. Today’s Tax Day, so his schedule will ease up.”
“Maybe he can come for a visit. He needs to meet his new kids!”
Meridith grimaced. “Actually . . . I haven’t exactly told him I’m keeping the children.”
“Oh dear.”
“I’ve hinted at it, but with the stress of tax season—well, I guess I have no excuse now, do I?”
“How do you think he’ll react?” Rita tucked her glossy hair behind her ear. Her warm and caring eyes made Meridith want to spill it all.
Meridith shrugged. “He’s a rational man. I think he’ll understand, especially since there’s no other viable option.” But the tone in Stephen’s voice when she’d mentioned it before belied her words. “I’ll tell him soon.”
She scanned the pool, accounting for all the children. The wicker crackled when she leaned back.
“Honey, what happened to your arm?” Rita frowned, reached over, and ran her fingers across the bruises. “Both of them!” she added, noticing the other arm.
The sleeves of her cover-up had ridden up. Meridith pulled them down. “Oh. It’s nothing. A guest caught me by surprise last night.”
“What? Did he attack you, Meridith?”
“Sort of, but Jake came and, well, kind of punched him, and everything’s fine now.”
“Jake . . . ?”
“The contractor I told you about.”
“Oh, right. Thank God he was there! Did you call the police?”
“No. Jake booted him and his friends from the house.”
“But are you okay? You must have been terrified!”
Meridith nodded. “I was. I was so relieved when Jake showed up. It was late at night, and I was alone on the beach—won’t do that again.” She gave a dry laugh.
“I’m just glad you’re okay. This Jake guy seems like quite the hero.”
She’d only vocalized what Meridith had been thinking. “We’re lucky to have him around.”
Thirty
It was Saturday night before Meridith got up the nerve. The kids were tucked in bed, their church clothes laid out on their dressers. Meridith had washed her face, brushed and flossed, and changed into her nightshirt. She could delay no longer.
She punched in the number on her cell and paced while it rang.
“Hi, honey,” she said when Stephen answered.
“Meridith. I was just thinking about you.”
She smiled. “That’s nice to hear.”
“I was watching the news, and it occurred to me that I never asked about your dad’s taxes—did you file?”
That’s what he’d been thinking? “My dad filed before he passed.
I checked weeks ago.”
“Oh, good. I was worried. Not that I thought you didn’t have it covered, but you’ve been out of your element there.”
“No kidding.” She hadn’t told him about Sean. No sense in worrying him, especially since Jake was here.
“No word from the uncle?”
“No.” Meridith bit her lip. She had to tell him. He needed time to adjust to the idea before she brought the children home.
“I miss you. I want you to come home.”
“I know, but I can’t. You understand, right?”
He sighed. “You’re going broke paying your mortgage without a paycheck coming in. You’re losing your savings.”
If only he knew Summer Place was draining it too. “When Summer Place sells, I’ll get it back.” At least she hoped she would. “Anyway, I wanted to talk about the children.”
“What is it?”
She closed her eyes and plunged in. “When I come home, they’re coming with me, Stephen.” She waited for the response. And waited. Meridith’s fist knotted, clutching her cotton nightshirt. Why wasn’t he responding?
She continued, “Their uncle hasn’t contacted them. He obviously won’t be interested in guardianship, and frankly, I don’t think he’s fit anyway. And there isn’t anyone else. They’d go to foster care, probably be separated, and I can’t let that happen.”
“But—we’re getting married.” He sounded stunned.
“They’re my siblings.”
“They were strangers two months ago.”
“Well, they’re not now. They’re blood relatives, Stephen, and I care about them.”
He gave a deep sigh. “I understand you feel a certain obligation. You’re really caught in a bad spot. But where am I in this decision? It’s our future, not just yours, and this isn’t the kind of decision you make alone, Meridith. Not when you’re engaged.”
“I should’ve said something sooner, I know. But you were knee deep in taxes, and I—”
“We’re talking about raising three children.”
“You’ll love them, I know you will. And the oldest is thirteen— four years, and she’ll be off to college.”
“You’re missing the point. Don’t I get a say?”
He was right, of course. But what if he decided he couldn’t do it? “I’m sorry, Stephen, I know you’re right. But what do you want me to do? They’re my siblings. I can’t abandon them. I thought you’d understand; you know about my childhood. How can I not offer them the stability of a good home?”