Driftwood Lane

by Denise Hunter

  He turned onto Driftwood Lane. The kids had quieted in the back, their teeth probably chattering too much to talk. Meridith had quieted, too, but when she carefully shifted her leg, he wondered if she was in pain.

  “Ankle hurting?”

  The night was too dark to read her expression. “I guess I need to keep it propped.”

  “Tylenol’s worn off. You should take something before you turn in.”

  “I will. I was just thinking about the Goldmans and the Mowerys. I hope they’re faring all right. I feel badly for being gone all day.”

  “The Goldmans seem to know what’s what around here, and the other couple seemed pretty autonomous. I’m sure they all had a full day at the festival and are tucked away for the night.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  Jake pulled the car into the drive. “See, the house is dark.” The engine hummed, accented by the pebbles popping under the wheels.

  “She’s a sweet ride. Purrs like a kitten.” He pulled the car into the garage. The familiar smell of mustiness and motor oil assaulted his senses.

  He gave the house key to Noelle, knowing it would take him and Meridith a few extra minutes, and the kids took the short cut through the back of the house, probably eager to get into their warm pajamas.

  “I’ll be up to tuck you in,” Meridith called after them.

  Jake opened Meridith’s door, and she swung her legs out, setting her foot down gently. Jake grasped her hands and pulled. She weighed nothing, a feather in the wind. He helped her navigate the car.

  “The basket and stuff—”

  “I’ll come back for it. Come on, Hopalong.” He took one arm, braced at the elbow, and put the other around her. Her skin was cool, the sweater a too-thin barrier against the chill in the air. She walked gingerly toward the front of the house, taking the route with fewer steps.

  Piper circled them, barking.

  “No, Piper. Back!” Jake said, fearing she’d trip Meridith. The dog sure was keyed up.

  They navigated the flagstones slowly in the dark. When they reached the steps, a breeze stirred the wind chimes, stirred her hair, and the familiar citrus scent wafted toward him.

  “Lean on me,” Jake said as they took the steps. When they reached the top, a shadow by the swing moved. Jake dropped Meridith’s elbow and stepped in front of her, the confrontation with Sean still fresh in his mind.

  The shadow moved again. Too tall for Mr. Goldman or the other guests.

  “Who’s there?” Jake braced his feet, his guard up, ready to pounce.

  Thirty-two

  Meridith turned to see why Jake was suddenly alert, the muscles in his arms hardening. She peered around him, and a familiar form emerged from the shadows.

  “Stephen!” Meridith hobbled forward and embraced her fiancé. “What are you doing here?”

  “I missed you.” He pecked her on the lips, but his embrace felt stilted. Then she remembered Jake.

  She pulled away and cleared her throat. “Stephen, this is Jake, the contractor I hired. Jake, this is my fiancé, Stephen.”

  Jake extended his hand. The grasp seemed more like a challenge than a handshake. Or maybe it was her imagination.

  “Nice to meet you,” Stephen said.

  “Same.” Jake’s voice seemed deep after Stephen’s. “I’ll turn in now,” he said to Meridith. “You’ll be all right with your ankle?”

  “Yeah, thanks.” Her laugh wobbled. “Good night.”

  She’d never gotten around to telling Stephen that Jake was staying there, and now she wished she had. Boy, did she ever.

  Stephen would have questions. She wasn’t blind to the way it must look, a cozy family returning from a day at the festival. Not to mention the way she’d been curled into Jake’s arms as he’d helped her up the walk.

  The screen door slapped into place, leaving them alone.

  Meridith huddled into her thin sweater. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

  “He’s staying here?” Stephen’s voice had an edge she hadn’t heard before.

  “It was a trade. I couldn’t afford the repairs, remember? Jake offered to trade for room and board.”

  “I’ll bet he did.”

  “Stephen. This is a bed-and-breakfast. We have people here all the time. What’s one more?”

  His sigh filled the space between them. Piper sniffed at his pant leg, and Stephen nudged her away. “You’re right. Sorry. I’ve been waiting a while, and I’m hungry.”

  There was the old conciliatory Stephen she knew and loved. She almost told him he could’ve knocked—the guests would’ve let him in—but mentioning it now was pointless.

  “Well, let’s get that taken care of.” She hobbled toward the door.

  “What happened to your ankle?”

  She rolled her eyes, though he was behind her. “I was carrying a cooler and didn’t see a dip in the ground. It’s twisted, that’s all.”

  “Did you have it looked at?” He set his suitcase inside the door.

  “It’s not that bad. Just a little swollen. Have a seat, and I’ll fix you a plate.” She remembered the picnic basket in the car. The trunk would smell by tomorrow, but she wasn’t hobbling out there now.

  Meridith prepared a salad and brought it to Stephen. He’d settled on the sofa’s end beside the antique table.

  “Here you go. I need to tuck the children in.”

  He took the plate. “Should I meet them now?”

  That he was eager to meet them warmed her. “Why don’t we wait until morning? They’re pretty tired—might even be asleep already. I’ll be right back.”

  Meridith limped up the back stairs. Ben and Noelle were already asleep, but she listened to Max’s prayers. Downstairs again, she stopped in the kitchen for Tylenol. Remembering Piper, she let the dog in the garage and retrieved the picnic basket while she was there. The extra walking made her ankle throb.

  Above her, she could hear Jake still stirring, and wondered for the first time what he thought of Stephen’s arrival. Having the two of them there would be uncomfortable. It only proved what she’d been reluctant to admit. An attraction was one thing, but her feelings for Jake had gone beyond that. Leaving the disconcerting notion for later, she returned to the living room.

  She limped to the armchair, then wondered why she’d chosen to sit catty-corner rather than beside Stephen. The time apart had made things awkward, she decided, multiplied by their disagreement over the children. Or maybe she’d only chosen the seat so she could prop her foot on the ottoman.

  “Sorry we weren’t here when you arrived. If I’d known you were coming . . .”

  That he’d come without warning wasn’t Stephen-like at all. He wasn’t the spontaneous type.

  He finished chewing a bite of salad. “I missed you. I know I should’ve called. Things have been a little strained between us this week, and I thought being together would help us find our footing again.”

  Meridith smiled. He regretted the way he’d handled her decision. He didn’t have to vocalize it; she could see it in the way his eyes turned down at the corners, the way his lips tipped up.

  “You’re right.”

  “Were the children still awake?”

  “Only Max, he’s the ten-year-old. Ben was curled into a ball in his top bunk, and Noelle was sprawled across the bed like she’d been there all night. It was quite the day. I’m sure they’re tired.” As if the mention of the word alerted her body, she yawned.

  This visit would be a good thing. Stephen would get acquainted with the children and see why she couldn’t leave them.

  “There’s some kind of festival going on, isn’t there? The traffic getting here was atrocious.”

  “I hear it’s worse in the summer.”

  He forked the lettuce and stuck it in his mouth. Meridith bit her lip. She shouldn’t have brought up summer. It was a reminder of the vast gulf separating them, the question of when she was returning and whether she’d have the children with her when she
did.

  But of course she’d have the children. She’d already told him so. And he was here; that must mean he was willing to give the readymade family a shot. She smiled.

  The house was quiet, only the sound of Stephen’s jaw clicking as he munched on the salad. Strange that she’d forgotten that about him. Her ankle throbbed, and she set a pillow under it.

  “I thought you could show me around the island tomorrow,” he said between bites.

  Their first outing as a family. It was a good idea. “Maybe in the afternoon. I have to make breakfast first—we have guests here at the moment. The Goldmans are interested in buying Summer Place, but we can talk about that tomorrow. Then we have church. It’s a lot different from ours, but I think you’ll like it. When do you have to leave?”

  “Monday morning, unfortunately. I was only able to get a long weekend.”

  “After all the hours you worked?”

  He shrugged. “I tried to come in last night, but the flights were booked. Because of the festival, I guess.”

  “If I’d known you were here, I would’ve come home earlier.”

  “I kept trying your cell.”

  “It was noisy at the picnic, then it was dead by the time we reached the Lawsons’.”

  “The Lawsons?”

  Meridith smiled, thinking of Rita. “You’ll meet them at church. Rita’s so kind. I’d be lost here without her.”

  “I doubt that. I don’t know anyone as capable as you, Meridith.”

  “Thanks,” she said, smiling. But the word wasn’t the high compliment it used to be. She found herself wishing Stephen would say something else. You’re the most wonderful woman I know or You’re so beautiful, Meridith.

  She shook her head. What was getting into her? She’d never cared about romantic declarations before. Stephen was a good fit. The best. Her aching ankle was making her irritable and critical. Meridith smothered another yawn as Stephen finished his salad and set his plate aside.

  “It’s late,” Stephen said. “I should let you get to bed.”

  “Oh, you need a room.” Meridith pulled her foot from the ottoman, already considering where to put him. The only room available in the family wing was Eva and T. J.’s., but she didn’t want to upset the children. She’d put him in the nautical room beside Jake’s.

  “I can help get it ready.” Stephen stood and pulled her to her feet. They were toe to toe in the same spot where she’d stumbled while dancing with Jake.

  “The room’s already made up.”

  Stephen’s face was clean-shaven, his skin still pale from a long winter indoors. His baby-blue eyes smiled tenderly.

  “I’ve missed you.” His arms circled her. “It’s so good to see you again. The phone just isn’t the same.” He kissed her, his lips moving slowly over hers. After a moment, he drew back with a smile, then turned toward the stairs and grabbed his suitcase.

  Meridith’s mind whirled as she negotiated the steps. Whirled because the kiss she’d missed all these weeks, the one that had once left her content and satisfied, had only left her shaken this time—and for all the wrong reasons.

  Thirty-three

  Meridith was restless all night. Between the aggravation of keeping her foot elevated and the disturbing realization that Stephen’s kiss only stirred ambivalence, she found herself analyzing the relationship.

  Was it the time apart? Their disagreement over the children? Or, more disturbing, her feelings for Jake? Maybe it was a combination of all three, a confusing cocktail that was even more unsettling.

  By the time she drifted to sleep, she’d decided to put any reservations on hold and let tomorrow play out. Perhaps after a day together at least two of the issues would be moot.

  Stephen had come to the island, wanted to be with her and get to know the children. That was all she could ask, and she knew the children would grow on him just as they had her.

  When morning came, she pried open her eyes and forced herself to limp downstairs and fix breakfast. Her ankle felt worse, and she popped three Tylenol, hoping it would loosen.

  Stephen kissed her good morning, his breath minty fresh, and helped her set the table. The Goldmans and Mowerys slept in, so Meridith put the food in the warmers and called the children down.

  They trotted down the steps noisily and took a seat, so used to strangers at the table, they hardly noticed Stephen. Jake was conspicuously absent.

  “Children,” Meridith said, taking her own seat. “This is Stephen, my fiancé. Stephen, this is Noelle, Max, and Ben.” She gestured toward each child.

  “Hi.” Noelle eyed him suspiciously. Max nodded at him, more interested in a big scoop of scrambled eggs, and Ben looked quietly between Stephen and Meridith.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Stephen said.

  “Are you coming to church with us?” Max asked.

  “I sure am.”

  “How’s he gonna fit in the van?”

  “There’s plenty of room,” Meridith said.

  “I can drive separately.”

  “There’s no need.” Meridith dished out eggs for Ben and laid two strips of bacon beside it. “After church we’re going to show Stephen the island’s sights.”

  “Oh . . .” Stephen’s fork stopped in midair. “I thought—”

  Meridith questioned him with her eyes, but he looked away.

  “Lexi invited me over after church,” Noelle said. “We’re going to start a blog, and we’re setting it up today.”

  “You can go to Lexi’s next Sunday, okay?” Meridith decided to table the discussion on online safety, but giving strangers open access to a teenage girl’s life seemed unwise.

  “We wanted to do it today.”

  Meridith pulled her lips upward. “Well, Stephen’s here today, so you can do it next week.”

  “Can Jake come?” Max asked.

  Meridith’s smile wobbled. Heaven help her. She felt Stephen’s eyes on her and wondered if he thought Jake tagged along on all their excursions—then cringed, because he often did. “No, Max, he cannot.”

  “Are you guys getting married?” Ben broke his silence.

  “Duh,” Noelle said. “What do think fiancé means?”

  Meridith wanted to slide under the table and stay there, but she forced herself to referee the children’s discussion through the meal.

  Church, at least, turned out better than she hoped. They sat with Rita and Lee, who offered to watch the children that evening so she and Stephen could be alone. Meridith was about to refuse, wanting Stephen to bond with the children, but he jumped in with a gracious thanks, and Meridith realized it was reasonable for him to want a couple hours alone.

  After church they went home to change. Meridith checked out the Mowerys and the Goldmans, who promised to be in contact about buying Summer Place.

  After the children were ready, they piled back into the van and proceeded to argue over who had to sit in the backseat. Finally, Meridith moved Ben’s booster to the back, and they headed toward town. Between driving and refereeing the children’s arguments, Meridith found herself wondering where Jake had disappeared to. His truck had been gone when she’d woken and still wasn’t back after church.

  They children voted for lunch at the Atlantic Café, and throughout the meal Meridith reminisced about the evening they’d celebrated the removal of Ben’s cast. After lunch they walked the brick sidewalks that seemed deserted after yesterday’s parade.

  By the time they were on their way to Sconset, Meridith became concerned by Stephen’s silence. She tried to pull him into the conversation, but between Max and Noelle’s bickering and Ben’s questions, it was easy for Stephen to remain on the edge of the fray.

  He did seem to enjoy Sconset, now serene after the bustle of the picnic and crowds the day before. The grassy lanes ran between the tightly spaced, gray-shingled cottages, offering views of small lush gardens that bloomed with daffodils and other early blooming flowers. Vines clung to white picket fences bordering the gardens.


  “They look like dollhouses,” Stephen noted.

  “You wouldn’t believe how much those dollhouses run,” Meridith said. She’d cautioned him earlier, reminding him the children didn’t know Summer Place was being sold.

  From Sconset, they set out for Surfside, where she and Stephen sat on the beach while the children waded along the shore. It was there that a gust of wind carried Max’s hat into the ocean. He had to wade in hip-deep to rescue his dad’s old cap.

  Max returned to the van for a long, soppy ride back to Summer Place to change and grab a quick dinner before they took the children to Rita’s. When Meridith shut off the ignition in the Lawsons’ driveway, she noticed Ben’s pallor as the others exited the van.

  “Ben, are you all right?”

  He stepped down from the van. “I’m—not—feeling—” Ben’s dinner made a repeat appearance, splattering onto the driveway and Stephen’s shoes.

  Stephen darted back, too late.

  “Oh my goodness!” Meridith rushed around the van. “You’re sick. Noelle, go ask Rita for a washcloth.” She placed her hand on the boy’s back. “Are you feeling better now?”

  Ben nodded, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

  “You’ll have to come home and get some rest. We can’t expose the Lawsons to an illness.”

  “I get carsick when I sit in the back.”

  Meridith sighed hard, torn between frustration and sympathy. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

  “You told me to sit in the back.”

  “Well, I know I did, but—” Oh, what good did it do to argue now?

  Noelle appeared with the washcloth, and Meridith wiped Ben’s face, then handed the cloth to Stephen, who’d stepped well away. He took it between two pinched fingers, then dabbed at his shoes.

  “Sorry,” Meridith told him.

  Rita welcomed Ben into the house and promised he’d be right as rain in minutes, then shooed Meridith and Stephen on their way.