“There was nothing you could’ve done.”
He shrugged. I don’t think he was reassured by my words.
“You saved me, though.”
He met my gaze. “I hope so.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant by that comment but didn’t ask. When Robert started back toward his truck, I kissed the top of my mother’s gravestone and followed Robert out of the forest, not sure I would return, and not sure I wouldn’t.
THE LIBRARY WOULD close in an hour and I could already hear Miss Nelson’s soft snores coming from the front desk. Nate was sitting beside me, our chairs pushed as close together as the wooden frames would allow.
Tomorrow I would return to the same school but as a different person. Marli Meade, with her long skirts and God-fearing values, was gone. Marli Meade, the jeans-wearing girl who’d seen the gates of Hell firmly reflected in her family’s eyes, was the one here now.
Something had changed in me but I didn’t yet understand what it was. At least on the outside it was clear I was a different person.
There was no telling how the other students would react to my new look, but honestly, did it matter? They’d picked on me, made me the object of ridicule, and humiliated me more times than I could count. So what if they commented on my new clothes?
After what I’d been through, I knew I could handle them and then some.
Besides, returning to a school that no longer had Mary or Polly in it was far worse than anything those rude seniors could say.
“Nate?”
“Hmmm?”
“Let’s plan a road trip.”
“Sure. Where to?”
“To find your mom.”
“Hmm. Maybe,” he said, his tone noncommittal.
“I’m sure she would like to see you.”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Is that sarcasm?”
He glanced over. “No, but I don’t want to talk about my mom.”
I leaned my head on his shoulder. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?”
“Do you think you’ll ever hear from Polly again?”
It hurt to hear her name and feel so powerless to do anything to help her.
“I hope so. I can’t imagine not seeing her again.”
“Maybe if we go on this road trip, we’ll try to find her, too.”
“Yes!” I sat upright and whipped around. “Do you have any idea where your mom is?”
“Charlotte, maybe. That was where she grew up. What about Polly?”
“I don’t know. Her brother is still at school. I could ask him. Or I’m sure Robert or the sheriff would help me find out. I think they’ve already been looking into it.” I paused to gather my thoughts. “When we find her, we have to have a rescue plan.”
His thick brows raised. “Rescue plan?”
“She didn’t want this marriage. I know she didn’t. She was terrified of the idea. If you can get the time off, let’s go this summer and bring Polly back. Or at least see how she’s doing, and if she wants out, we’ll get her out.”
“I’m afraid it won’t be that easy, but we can try.”
It might be a plan that would never work but at least it was a plan. We fell into a long silence, relishing the simple existence of being together.
Eventually, he kissed my cheek and said, “Marli Meade?”
“Hmm?” I giggled at the formality of his words.
“I think I’m falling in love with you.”
I tensed. Was he teasing? Mocking me?
No. Not Nate.
But love? To hear those words come from the mouth of someone like Nate reached places inside me I didn’t even know existed. Ambrose said he loved me, but hearing it from the detective was so different from hearing it from the source—aka Nate himself.
I had never expected to be loved. Ever.
Tears sprang to my eyes, unexpected and welcome. In the middle of such an imperfect world, I had found a way to break free, to fight for the kind of life I wanted, I deserved. Who would have ever imagined I would have found someone like Nate, too? Found love?
“Why are you crying?” he whispered, running his thumb along my cheek.
I released a shaky laugh. “I’m not sure. Hearing you say that? It’s…a lot to take in.”
“Why?”
“It’s like…no one has ever told me they loved me. I’m not sure anyone ever has, that I’m even lovable. And the fact that it’s you who tells me you love me…it’s surreal.”
Nate rubbed my back, creating warm circles between my shoulder blades.
“And besides…” I chuckled, wiping at my eyes. “I think I already fell in love with you. Maybe even the first time I saw you, standing in the church wearing that tilted fedora hat of yours.”
It had been a struggle to get to this point. It had almost cost me my life, like it had cost my mother hers. The price was high when you had everything to lose. But I had taken the risk and even though the future was uncertain, the present wasn’t.
I had found love, a new family, a new existence.
I had found a way to live and was going to make sure I did just that every single day of my life.
I leaned into him as his lips worked their magic against my neck. Soon my hands could no longer remain still and I reached for him, pulling him close, as close as he could get. His hands went into my hair. His mouth found mine.
My hands traveled up and down his arms, over his shoulders, my palms burning like a lit match was held to my skin.
This was what it was like to be alive. Being loved, being cherished…being wanted. Charged energy soared through my body, releasing the black hold of the past, letting it disappear, at least for a while.
I had been desperate for so long, desperate for a voice, a choice, a life. And now it seemed like I had all those things.
“Wait,” I whispered, pulling away.
“Is everything okay?”
Without answering, I walked to the doorway and peered into the front. Miss Nelson’s head was lying flat on the desk, her mouth open and a small pool of drool dripping onto the paperback that lay beneath her cheek.
I closed the door to the back room. It didn’t have a lock, but I didn’t care. I wanted to be close to Nate and nothing was going to stop me from doing just that.
He took my extended hand and stood to his feet. In silence, we moved to the far corner of the room and lay down on the cool tile floor. Closing time came and went as Miss Nelson slept the hours away, and Nate and I clung to each other like normal teenagers in love.
Tracy Hewitt Meyer is an award-winning author of teen and adult fiction. She lives in the mid-east with her family, a goldendoodle, and a bearded dragon. For more information on Tracy, her writing life, and her novels, please visit www.tracyhewittmeyer.com.
The Reformation of Marli Meade Page 21
