Driftwood Lane (Nantucket #4)(87)

With the children out of the picture, Stephen would no doubt come knocking on her door. But as quickly as the thought formed, she dismissed the notion. How could she settle for the backyard when she’d experienced the world?

And yet, how could she embrace the world when it was so big, so scary, so dangerous? One day at a time, Meridith. All she needed was a secure foundation, and she had that. Everything else was a bonus.

A door creaked behind her, and she heard the children rustle in their seats. She wouldn’t turn. Couldn’t look.

God, help me.

Her heart lodged in her throat, a huge throbbing mass. She heard Jake’s familiar footsteps echo through the room, getting closer. Would he stop at her table?

The footsteps drew closer, closer, and Meridith thought she’d stop breathing. But then his steps faded and a chair nearby squawked as he settled into it. She tried to tell herself she wasn’t disappointed, but that didn’t explain the profound emptiness that welled up inside her.

Another door opened, this one at the front of the courtroom. The judge appeared, a bailiff. The black robe swooped over the judge’s rotund form. He took a seat, then called the court to order, his jowls shaking.

This was it. It was really happening. It was the right thing for the kids. They were staying here with their uncle where they could visit their parents’ graves and keep their friends and have the stability she was unable to provide.

In her peripheral vision, she saw Jake shift in his chair, and she could swear she smelled the familiar woodsy scent of him. She stopped midbreath and waited a few seconds, hoping the air would clear.

Was he looking her way? But why would he? He was getting what he wanted. Meridith had only been a means to an end. She had to pull the plug on these silly feelings. They were unreciprocated. Would she ever get that through her head?

The bailiff was saying something, and Meridith blinked away the thoughts. She had to pay attention, or she was going to make a bigger fool of herself than she already had.

When she was called to the stand, she stood and approached on shaky legs. The bailiff swore her in, then she took a seat on the hard bench. She curled her fingers around the bench’s ledge and hung on for dear life.

“Ms. Meridith Ward,” the judge began in his gravelly voice. “You are currently the legal guardian of Noelle, Maxwell, and Benjamin Ward?” He eyed her over bifocals.

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“And you wish to decline guardianship?”

No! her mind refuted. Where was her courage? She cleared her throat. “Yes, Your Honor.”

“As stated in the will of Terrance James Ward, if you decline guardianship of your siblings, the children’s uncle, Mr. Jacob Walker, is to be offered guardianship. Is that your intention here today?”

Her eyes flickered toward Jake. He was breathtakingly handsome in a dark suit and tie. His eyes caught hers, deep and shadowed, a look of gravity in them she hadn’t seen before. It took all her resolve to tear her gaze away.

“Yes.” The word shook, a tiny tremor from the earthquake inside.

“You’re declining guardianship of your own free will, under no duress from Mr. Walker or anyone else?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Very well, you may take your seat.”

Meridith returned to her place behind the table. Do not look at the children. Do not look at Jake. She was going to lose it if she did.

She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. She was going to bust soon. Breathe. In. Out.

Almost over. It was almost over.

Jake was called to the stand. He stood and walked past, and she realized belatedly that her seat put her directly in front of the witness stand. How was she going to avoid eye contact now?

Her eyes found a scratch on the table, a pale sliver in the honey-stained wood.

The bailiff moved toward Jake. “In the testimony you’re about to give, do you solemnly swear or affirm to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

“I do.” Jake’s rich voice rang out loud and clear.

The bailiff retreated.

The scar on the table seemed to stretch longer. Meridith traced the line. The edges of the groove dug into the pad of her finger.

“Mr. Jacob Walker,” the judge began. “You’re the uncle of the children present here in the courtroom today . . .” Papers shuffled. “. . . Noelle, Maxwell, and Benjamin Ward?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“These are the children of your sister, Eva Ward, and your brother-in-law, Terrance James Ward, who left custody to Meridith Ward?”

“Yes, sir.”

“As you’ve heard in Ms. Ward’s testimony, she is declining guardianship of these children. As per the stipulations in your sister’s will, you are to be offered the legal guardianship of the Ward children. Mr. Walker, do you accept the role of guardian for these children and all the responsibilities that accompany that role?”

“No, Your Honor, I don’t.”

Meridith’s eyes darted to Jake. He was staring straight at her. She’d misheard.

The judge cleared his throat. “Mr. Walker, perhaps you misunderstood the question. Do you wish to be guardian of the children?”

“No, Your Honor, I don’t,” Jake said clearly.

She didn’t understand. What was he doing? The children— “Mr. Walker—”