Driftwood Lane (Nantucket #4)(65)
When they turned into Summer Place’s drive, alone for the first time since morning, Meridith noted Jake’s truck in the drive. She didn’t know how much more discomfort she could stand, and she had the sudden feeling things could get worse. Much worse.
Piper greeted her when she exited the van. “Hi, girl.” The whole back half of the retriever wagged. Meridith’s foot was better, but the medication was wearing off, and she felt a headache starting at the base of her neck.
“Want to sit on the beach?” she asked. “There are some nice Adirondack chairs out there, and we can enjoy the evening light.” And avoid Jake, she added mentally.
“It’s kind of chilly. What about a walk on the beach?”
“My ankle . . .” she reminded him. “I’ll grab a nice, thick quilt, and we’ll cozy up on the chairs.”
“All right,” he said, removing his shoes.
Meridith went inside while Stephen squatted at the spigot, rinsing his shoes. She took the medication, then retrieved a freshly washed quilt from the laundry room. Jake was in his room, she supposed, though she didn’t hear him moving around. Was he giving her and Stephen space to work things out? She didn’t know why the notion bothered her.
When Meridith joined Stephen, he was standing on the beach near the chairs holding a daffodil. He turned and held it out as she approached.
Meridith took the yellow flower, remembering all the daffodils she’d seen the day before. An image of Jake smiling as he teased her at the picnic washed across her mind.
Forcing the image away, she sat in the chair, and Stephen wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. He sat beside her and buried his bare feet in the sand. Piper whined from the edge of the property.
“I’m sorry about today,” she said. “It’s not normally like this.”
Stephen took her hand. “Let’s not talk about the kids.” He kissed the tender skin of her palm. “I’ve waited too long to be alone with you, and I want to enjoy every minute.”
He could be so sweet. He looked at her now like he was memorizing her face. “I wish you were going home with me tomorrow.”
“I know.” She nearly added Me too, then realized she didn’t. Where would that leave the children?
Stephen turned her hand over and ran his thumb across the ring. The wind tugged her hair. A lone seagull cried overhead, floating on the wind, almost stationary.
“There was a part of me that hoped you would,” he said.
“You know I can’t.” Hadn’t they been through this before? “It won’t be much longer. School will be out in a little over a month. And if the Goldmans buy the property, that’ll expedite things.”
“And then what?”
“The property would close thirty days from the signing. Maybe you could come for another visit between now and then.”
“That’s not what I mean, Meridith.”
She knew he referred to the children coming home with her, to their being a family, and she wished so desperately the day had gone better.
“Today was a bad day. They’re not normally so quarrelsome, and Ben’s vomiting . . .” The memory was such a horrific end to the day, it was almost funny. She felt a laugh bubbling up inside. “Well, you have to keep your sense of humor around here, that’s for sure.”
“I don’t find it funny in the least.”
The bubble of laughter burst, unfulfilled. “I appreciate that you want to give them a chance. I’m just trying to say it isn’t always like this.”
He looked at her, his eyes intent with purpose. “I didn’t come to bond with the kids, Meridith. I came to remind you what we have together.” He pressed another kiss to her palm. “I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Her breath caught, but not because he’d repeated the words he’d spoken when he’d proposed. The other words made a far stronger impression. I didn’t come to bond with the kids.
She’d misread the reason for his visit. She’d taken her own wish and transferred it onto him.
“We have plans, good ones,” he said. “Save for a home in Lindenwood Park while we focus on our careers for three to five years. By then we’ll have enough to buy that dream home and start a family.”
Meridith knotted the quilt material in her fist with the daffodil, clutching the stem against her chest. “I already have a family, Stephen.”
His face fell. “They’re not your kids, Meridith. And they’re not mine.”
“They’re my siblings. And they have no one else.”
“That wasn’t our plan when I asked you to marry me. When you said yes.”
“Life doesn’t always go according to plan, Stephen. Things happen. Change happens. I didn’t ask for this.”
“I didn’t either. And I’m asking you to put me first. To put us first.” His grip tightened on her hand. “I love you. The future I want for us doesn’t include someone else’s children.”
Meridith eased away from him, pulled her hand from his, and stood, even as he tightened his grip. If Stephen’s future didn’t include her siblings, then it didn’t include her either.
She limped a few steps toward the water.
He wasn’t interested in the children, and she wondered for the first time what this said of his feelings for her. How much could he love her if he couldn’t consider her side? And what of her feelings for him? They now seemed vague and gray-washed, like they were lost in a fog rolling in off the harbor. When had that happened?