Between Sisters - Page 108

He didn’t know.

But just now, looking down at Meghann, feeling the whisper softness of her breath against his skin, he wanted to try. He reached out, brushed a silky strand of hair from her face. It was the kind of touch he hadn’t dared in years.

She blinked awake. “Morning,” she said, her voice scratchy and raw.

He kissed her gently, whispered, “Good morning. ”

She pulled back too quickly, turned away. “I need to go. I’m supposed to pick up my niece at nine o’clock. ” She threw the covers back and got out of bed. Naked, she yanked a pillow up to cover herself and hurried into the bathroom. By the time she reemerged, dressed once again in her expensive lavender silk dress, he was dressed.

She picked up her strappy sandals in one hand and draped her panty hose over one shoulder. “I’ve really got to go. ” She glanced at the front door and started to turn toward it.

He wanted to stop her, but didn’t know how. “I’m glad you came last night. ”

She laughed. “Me, too. Twice. ”

“Don’t,” he said, moving toward her. He had no idea what—if anything—was between them, but he knew it wasn’t a joke.

She looked at the door again, then up at him. “I can’t stay, Joe. ”

“See you later, then. Good-bye. ” He waited for her to answer, but she didn’t. Instead, she kissed him. Hard. He was breathless by the time she pulled back, whispered, “You’re a good man, Joe. ”

Then she was gone.

Joe went to the window and watched her leave. She practically ran to her car, but once she was there, she paused, looking back at the house. From this distance, she looked oddly sad. It made him realize how little he knew her.

He wanted to change that, wanted to believe there was a future for him after all. Maybe even one with her.

But he’d have to let go of the past.

He didn’t know how to do all of it, how to start a life over and believe in a different future, but he knew what the first step was. He’d always known.

He had to talk to Diana’s parents.

TWENTY-TWO

MEGHANN PARKED THE CAR AND GOT OUT. A QUICK glance up at the house told her that no one was home. The lights were all out. She rammed her panty hose into her handbag and ran barefoot across the lawn, then slipped quietly into the darkened house.

Thirty minutes later, she was showered, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, and packed. On her way out, she paused long enough to write Claire a quick note, which she left on the kitchen counter.

Claire and Bobby

Welcome home.

Love, Meg.

She drew a funny picture of a pair of martini glasses alongside her name, then paused, took one last look at the house that was so much a home. It was unexpectedly difficult to leave. Her condo was so cold and empty by comparison.

Finally, she went to her car and drove slowly through the campground.

The place was quiet this early on a Sunday morning. There were no children in the pool, no campers walking around. A lonely pair of fishermen—father and son by the looks of them—stood at the riverbank, casting their lines toward the water.

At the property line she turned right onto a rutted gravel road. Here, the trees grew closer together, their towering limbs blocking out all but the hardiest rays of morning sunlight. Finally, she came to the clearing, a horseshoe-shaped yard full of oversize rhododendrons and humongous ferns. A gray mobile home squatted on cement blocks in the middle of the yard, its front end accentuated by a pretty cedar deck. Pots of red geraniums and purple petunias were everywhere.

Meghann parked the car and got out. As always, she felt a tightening in her stomach when she thought about meeting Sam. It took a concerted effort to look at him and not remember their past.

Go. Just leave.

You’re just like your Mama.

Tags: Kristin Hannah Fiction
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