Driftwood Lane (Nantucket #4)(74)

The home smelled of lilacs and coffee, and when Rita offered a cup of the brew, Meridith accepted. She’d been in such a hurry to escape the house she hadn’t made a pot.

Meridith sat at the kitchen table. The weekend had been miserable. She’d pasted on a smile for the guests, went through the motions with the children, and tried not to wonder where Jake went when he disappeared.

She should ask him to leave. But the fireplace was half dismantled, and a new leak had sprung up on the kitchen ceiling below the children’s bathroom.

Rita set a steaming mug at her fingertips and sat across from her. Light streamed through the patio doors, but Meridith wished the sun would go away.

She lifted the mug and inhaled before taking a sip. The liquid warmed her throat, and she prayed the caffeine would lift her spirits.

“Honey, what’s going on? You were quiet as a mouse at church yesterday, and you look so tired. Are the kids giving you fits, or are you missing Stephen?”

Meridith shook her head. “The kids are fine. It’s not Stephen either.”

Rita laid her soft hand on Meridith’s arm. “Then what is it? I’m worried about you.”

Meridith ran her finger along the mug’s fat rim. “It’s—” The rest of the words clogged her throat. There were too many words, too many problems. “I don’t know where to start.”

“What happened to frazzle you so?”

She was frazzled. It was so unlike her. “Jake kissed me. Or I kissed him, I’m not sure.” She looked up at her friend, sheepishly.

The frown lines on Rita’s forehead dissolved, and her lips lifted at the corners. “I see.”

“No, you don’t. This is not a good thing.”

“Because of Stephen . . .”

“No . . . Why does everyone think this is about Stephen?” As soon as the words were out, Meridith sighed. “Of course everyone thinks it’s about Stephen. If I were normal, this would be about Stephen—oh, what is wrong with me?” Meridith palmed her forehead.

“It’s okay. Talk to me.”

Maybe Rita could give her perspective. Meridith opened her mouth, and the story of her childhood spilled like a glass of milk onto the table. From her parents’ arguments to her dad leaving to her mother’s bipolar disorder.

“Eva mentioned the mental illness once,” Rita said. “Talk about an unstable childhood.”

“That’s it exactly. There was no order, no control. I feel like my childhood happened to me, and I was helpless. I never knew what to expect. One day she’d be nearly suicidal and the next she’d be frantically energetic and so touchy I had to walk on eggshells.”

“You practically raised yourself. No wonder you’re so competent.”

“And then when I was twelve I found out the disease was hereditary. I spent my teenage years fearing I’d wind up like her.”

“But you didn’t.”

Meridith traced the threads on the quilted placemat, her thoughts returning to Jake. “I escaped the disease. But I feel so broken inside, Rita. And I think I’ve fallen in love with Jake, but he makes me feel . . .” She wished she could describe it. “The way he makes me feel terrifies me.”

“Why?”

“It feels, on some level, the same as when I was a child.”

“Like things are happening that you can’t control?”

“Yes.”

“Honey,” Rita said gently. “That’s just love. And life. There’s very little we control. That’s why having God as our foundation is so important. He’s unshakable.”

“But with Stephen it was different.”

“Why?”

Meridith sighed. “I don’t even miss him, exactly. I miss the security and steadiness of our relationship.” She forced herself to vocalize the thought that had circled her head for a month. “Maybe I didn’t love him.”

“Maybe he was just comfortable. Less scary than real love, huh?”

Meridith buried her face in her palm. “I’m an idiot.”

Rita touched her wrist. “You’re human. At least you ended the relationship before any real harm was done. That was a blessing from God, you know?”

“But how am I going to find real love if I’m afraid of how it makes me feel? I don’t want to spend my life alone.” Rita made having a family and a healthy marriage look so easy. “How do you do it?”

Rita tucked her shiny hair behind her ears. “One day at a time. It’s not always been easy, and I know what you mean when you say love is scary.” She sipped her coffee. “Lee is actually my second husband. I married young, and my first husband cheated on me and left within a year.”

“I didn’t know.”

“When Lee came along, I was pretty cautious. But then I found the Lord and learned to make Him my foundation. Just knowing He’ll never leave me, never betray me, is enough, you know? If everything around me fails, I have that.”

Meridith had heard many similar comments since she’d come to the island. Things she’d never heard in her St. Louis church. She didn’t have what Rita had. God wasn’t the foundation of her life; He was more like a historical figure she admired.

“I mean,” Rita went on. “I trust Lee, love him to death . . . but I know he’s fallible, just as I am. Christ is the only one who loves me perfectly, and that’s enough for me to hold on to, enough to hold me steady.”