Chapter 10 #2
With cricket song filling the silence, I light both lanterns and hang one on the shepherd’s hook at the edge of the deck, then light the citronella candle in the center of the table.
When I go back for Meg, she’s already swinging through the sliding glass door .
Even in her hindered state, it’s hard not to stare.
“This is so nice,” she says, a hint of a smile on her lips. “Thank you.”
I meet her at the picnic table and help her with the crutches, then grab a spare chair so she can prop up her leg. The night is cooling quickly so I also bring out a spare blanket and set it next to her.
“There’s more of everything. Just ask,” I say once I’m settled across from her.
“Where’s Greta tonight?” She sets her napkin on her lap and swirls a bite of pasta onto her fork.
“With her mom.”
She lifts the fork to her mouth. “Mmm,” she groans, chewing slowly.
A current of heat travels down my spine. I shouldn’t stare at her soft lips wrapping around her fork, and I should not be imagining all the places I’d like to feel her mouth on me.
“This is really good,” she adds, snapping me back to the table.
“Glad you like it.” That I can bring her any source of pleasure right now after what happened eases the guilt hooked around my shoulders.
“Do you guys have a plan or does it depend on your work schedule?”
I stab a bite of salad. “There’s a plan, but in the summer it’s more flexible.”
“You must miss her.”
Like crazy. “Did someone bring you clothes?”
She furrows her brow. “You mean to the hospital? Yeah, my friend Annaleise.”
That she didn’t name a guy brings on a wave of relief. And then I feel selfish. Why shouldn’t Meg have a guy in her life? “Is she another flight attendant?”
“No, we were friends growing up. Before Dad and I moved. You might know her if you read the Finn River Journal.”
I stay away from the news. “That’s cool you two stayed in touch.”
“We had all our firsts together. First crushes. First school dance. First skinny dip. We even shoplifted together.” She shoots me a shy grin. “Just once though.”
My cock jumps at skinny dipping . I take a sip of my water. “What’d you steal?”
“Lipstick from the Piggly Wiggly.”
The image that pops into my head of two gangly tweeners darting between the rows makes me smile. “Did you get caught?”
Her cheeks flush. “Annaleise did. I thought for sure she would rat me out, but she didn’t.”
“Sounds like a true friend.”
“She was there for me when my mom passed.”
I fork another bite of salad. So this is why she’s never mentioned her mom. “How old were you when you lost her?”
“Twelve.”
That’s the same age my nephew Logan is now, and the same age as Greta when Kelly and I separated. There’s never a good time to lose a parent, but the scars are deeper at ages like this.
“Is that why you guys moved away?” I ask.
Her gaze turns thoughtful as she spirals another bite of pasta around her fork. “My dad said it was for the job in Boise, but yeah, I think he was relieved to get away from here. From all the reminders of her.”
“Is that how you felt, too?” I get the need for a fresh start. I’m pretty sure if Everett and I hadn’t made it out of Miller’s Ferry, we wouldn’t be here at all.
A sudden memory of Trina eyeing me in The Limelight’s crowded back hallway flashes in my mind, but I shake my head. I ignored her look then, I can just as easily ignore this random thought.
“Yes and no,” Meg replies, taking a bite. A stray curl of her blonde hair falls past her cheek. Resisting the urge to tuck it back sends an angry prickle over my skin. I need to stop thinking about touching her.
“I didn’t want to leave, but maybe it’s better I did?” She shakes her head. “School got weird. Everyone was fussing over me. Girls who had never talked to me before suddenly wanted to be my friend. Teachers whispered about me when they thought I couldn’t hear.”
I’ve experienced this, but without the sympathy. When everyone knows you’re the new kid who escaped a cult, none of them want to be your friend.
“Our neighbors got weird too,” Meg continues. “Always stopping by. Bringing food. Offering to take care of me.”
“Nice they cared,” I say.
“For sure,” she replies with a nod. “But when it went on for months, it kind of overwhelmed my dad. It made him feel like people didn’t believe he could hack it as a single parent.
I mean, would they still have brought over casseroles three months later and offered to clean our house if Mom had been the widow? ”
I nod because she has a point. I had a taste of this when Kelly and I split, though Kelly was the only one who doubted my abilities. My family’s belief in me never faltered. Even on the days I could barely get out of bed.
“Are you and your dad still close?” I ask.
She draws a slow breath, then swallows hard. “I, um…”
I wait, keeping a steady eye on her.
She wipes her mouth with her napkin. Finally, she meets my gaze. “For the longest time, it was just the two of us, and yeah, we were really close. But I think things have changed. It’s…hard. ”
I’m no expert on family dynamics, but I want to know what she’s getting at. “What’s changed?”
“We don’t talk as much. He’s often distracted. Or he’ll let Darienne talk while he zones out.” She sets down her fork and sips from her water.
“He retired this year, right? Transitions can be hard for people.”
“That’s true.” She nods.
Why is she holding back? I respect a good dodge of topic, but it stirs my curiosity.
“Oh crap,” she says with a groan. “I forgot to call the caterer back.”
I swallow my bite. “You planning a party?”
“Yeah, for Dad’s retirement. Darienne needs to add another twenty people to the guest list.”
“I’m sure you can still add them tomorrow.”
She forks a small bite of salad. I’m pleased to see that she’s eaten most of her pasta.
“When’s the party?” I ask.
“July twenty first.”
“That’s coming up.”
Her eyes turn serious. “I know.”
I get her talking about the location and all the planning she’s put into this gig, her eyes lighting up.
I only spoke with her dad for five minutes.
He introduced himself and his wife, a slender woman in her forties who seemed bored by my brief retelling of Meg’s rescue, then kept interrupting with her insistent huffs of displeasure.
Is this woman the reason Meg and her dad are no longer close?
I carry the dishes inside while Meg swings into the guest bathroom. While she’s busy, I clean up, then make sure there are plenty of pillows and extra blankets on the guest bed, plus a fresh glass of water on the nightstand .
When she swings into the room, her face looks tired and from the edge of discomfort in her eyes, I know she’s hurting.
“Need anything?” I ask as she lowers to the edge of the bed.
She shakes her head. “I just took some more ibuprofen.”
I set the crutches on the floor next to the bed so she can reach them, then slide out my cell. “What’s your phone number?”
“Why?”
“If you need anything, call me.” I help her get under the covers then tuck a pillow under her injured leg.
“On the phone?” She glances at the ceiling with a frown. “Are you a heavy sleeper?”
I grunt. “I’ll be outside.”
She scowls. “All night?”
I laugh. “Yep.”
Her look turns thoughtful. “You aren’t taking care of me out of guilt, are you?”
“I need you back on your feet so you can get back to tormenting me.”
Her eyes soften, but her gaze flits away. After she shares her number, I send her a text.
When she opens her phone, her eyebrows shoot up. “World’s Worst Neighbor?”
“It’s catchy.”
She laughs, then lays back, her wavy blonde hair fanning out on the pillow.
The instant our eyes lock, a wild energy fires beneath my skin. Before I do anything stupid, I rock to my feet and pocket my phone. “Hope you can rest.”
Her smile looks more like a grimace. “Thanks. For everything.”
I manage a nod, then walk to the door and flick off the light.