Big Jim glanced at her with a nod, but Leona never looked up from the hexagons she was cutting out for her next quilt. Meredith walked out the door without another word.
She was lucky. She knew she was lucky.
She had a place to live. Oscar was loved. They weren’t on the streets. They weren’t hungry. What did it matter if the people she lived with didn’t give one good damn about her? The McCormicks could have chosen not to take her in when her parents kicked her out, but they had. So what if it had simply been because she was Oscar’s mother?
He was all that mattered. And that was as it should be.
She knew from the start that he was everything. At first — before either of their parents knew — when Jamie had wanted her to get an abortion, she’d never even considered it. It had been the source of their first fight. And their second. And their tenth. Even then, Meredith knew what she’d felt for Jamie those first few weeks wasn’t love, but what she felt for Oscar — who was no bigger than a field pea at the time — absolutely was.
It hadn’t even hurt when Jamie dumped her for Veronica Sanger. She and Jamie had started dating over the summer, and she’d turned up pregnant just before Labor Day. By Halloween, Meredith had known without a doubt that sleeping with Jamie McCormick was the stupidest decision she’d ever made. Veronica could have him.
Meredith had Brooke. Without her best friend, she might not have made it. Not because of the break-up. Because of the fear. The fear of what would happen when her parents found out. Because she knew. She’d gone to church with them every Sunday. For years, she’d heard what their pastor said about fornication and sinners. Meredith had clenched her teeth and shut her eyes to keep from rolling them through each sermon. But her parents had eaten it up. Her mom and dad had changed so much since eighth grade that she almost didn’t recognize them. Ned and Susan Ryan had always been religious, but since joining Covenant Life Church, they’d gone from faithful to fanatic.
Telling them had been impossible.
But by end of January, Meredith hadn’t been able to hide it anymore. She’d started dressing in sweatshirts and big, slouchy sweaters during the day. And she’d wake up at night sweat-soaked and dying to pee. One night, she’d swapped out her bulky sweatshirt for a sleeveless tee so she could breathe, and her mother had come in the next morning to wake her for church. The T-shirt and daylight had given her away.
They hadn’t made it to church that Sunday.
The next day, she was out. No unwed, expectant daughter was welcome in the Ryan house. Brooke’s parents had made it clear she could stay with them, but as the oldest of five, Brooke already shared a room with her sister Penny. Living with the Cormiers was not an option that could last very long.
But by then, the secret had been out. Veronica Sanger had shin-kicked Jamie in the school cafeteria in front of half their class the day she learned the truth. The next day, Leona had found out about her impending grandchild, and, just like that, Meredith had a home.
Sort of.
Jamie had been so mad at her, at his mother — at everything — he had scarcely looked at Meredith. It hadn’t helped that she cried half the time. Or more than half. Her pregnancy hormones and the loss of her home and family had kept her red-eyed and weepy for two solid weeks.
It had been easier to feel normal at school — even with students whispering in the halls as she passed. But at the end of each day, as soon as she got into her car to drive home, she’d have to face the crushing truth that she couldn’t go back to South Arlington Street and disappear upstairs in her own room. The sanctuary of her room. Her comfortable, familiar bed with the purple-on-black coverlet and matching pillow shams. HerSupernaturalandCatching Fireposters. The smell of chicken, rice, and gravy rising up from the kitchen. The sound of Zabby barking when her dad got home from work.
She’d be crying before she could even key the ignition.
Almost two years of nothing,Meredith thought as she walked up St. Landry, passing the memorial. The evening breeze chilled her, so she zipped her jacket and crossed her arms in front of her.
In those two years, her sadness had deepened and evolved. Right after Oscar was born, Meredith had fallen victim to a merciless hope. How could her parents resist the wonder of a grandson when Leona McCormick couldn’t? How could that woman have stronger family ties than Meredith’s own mother, who — up until now — lived solely for God and family?
Meredith had expected her parents to turn up at the McCormicks’ at any moment in the days after Oscar arrived. They’d take one look at him and his beautiful, infant innocence and see Meredith, exhausted and uncertain as every new mother is, and insist they come home where they belonged.
But time passed. Meredith had gotten the hang of breastfeeding. Oscar had smiled his first smile. They’d both survived his first night of colic. And her parents had never come.
They were missing out on Oscar. It took about a month, but anger — hot and indignant — had shoved her heartbreak aside. How dare they snubhim?
Meredith was halfway to Blackham Coliseum when she shook these same, venomous thoughts from her head before angry tears could sting her eyes again. To distract herself, she picked up her phone and, only then, remembered the text she’d ignored an hour before.
Gray:Did you ever try making those cookies for Mr. Simmons? I guarantee, they reduce asshole tendencies by at least 50 percent.
Her own laugh shocked her.
Meredith:No. Mr. Simmons didn’t deserve them.
As soon as she sent the message, Meredith worried her text would disturb him. What if he’d managed to fall asleep after having the dinner she’d made? He certainly wouldn’t appreciate her waking him. Still, it was only a little before eight…
Gray:And I do?
She texted back without a second thought.
Meredith:Of course. You’re sick.
She stared at her phone, awaiting a response. Reaching the corner of Coliseum Road, she turned left. The street was empty, but traffic on Johnston Street up ahead whizzed by. She’d almost reached the bike path in front of the coliseum when he replied.