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“I’m not sure, either,” she said. “Except to keep doing what you’re doing. The more they’re around each other, the more Kelsey’s going to be able to see that Susan’s a good person and perhaps start to trust her a bit. And the more Susan will learn what a nine-year-old kid’s about and start to relax, which will help Kelsey trust her.”
And…
No. Meredith refused to acknowledge her inner “awareness.” So what if she’d been shown a picture, a flash only, of her and Kelsey together. Then together again somewhere else. That didn’t mean it was real. Or even if it was, that she had to take heed of it.
And…
“And I think that it might help if, instead of always calling teenagers to sit with her—girls who are trustworthy and will keep her safe, mind you, but kids who don’t really see Kelsey as anything more than a chance to earn a few extra bucks—you call me. Or let me take her to my place for a night. That way she won’t feel like a castoff.”
Her life’s purpose was to help kids. She knew that. Any kids. Anywhere. Any way she could. It wasn’t so much a choice as a conviction that she wouldn’t be happy any other way. Helping kids completed her.
“I can’t ask you to do that. You have a life.”
“You aren’t asking. I’m offering. And it’s up to me how I spend my life.”
“Why would you give up your weekend for me? I’m not even that nice to you.”
“You’re not un-nice to me.” She should have left the television on. Of course, that would be out in the kitchen, which wouldn’t offer much distraction in here. “Besides, I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for Kelsey and Susan.”
He nodded. And relaxed. And when she realized she knew that, her own tension grew. She didn’t want to know any more about him than anyone else knew. Especially when all she experienced were random feelings without explanation and minus a name tag so she couldn’t even be sure of the source. But someone in this room had just relaxed, and it wasn’t her.
“I’ll think about it,” he said. “Thank you.”
Time to go. Meredith grabbed her bag as she stood, moving as quickly as she could for the door without looking as if she was running. He was right beside her, reaching for the doorknob—and no
t opening it.
Meredith didn’t like the way his tired, yet…something…look made her feel. All edgy and, oh, maybe…she didn’t know what. Just more. Was it him? Her? Both?
“In all the months I’ve been seeing Susan, I’ve never once heard of you out on a date,” he said.
“So?”
“I’m surprised. You’re a beautiful woman….”
And thirty-one. Her clock was ticking—slowly, granted, but still ticking.
Yet, if he thought she was beautiful…
“Thanks.”
She moved toward the door. It didn’t open. His hand was solidly on the handle. Hell, it was solid, period. Reassuring. Capable. She’d never thought much about men’s hands before.
“Why don’t you?”
Meredith’s first priority was to get out of there. She needed space. Peace.
“I find that my life’s happier that way.”
“Are you gay?”
In today’s world it was a reasonable question. “Does it matter?”
“No!” He stepped back. “Of course not.” And then… “Are you?”
She debated her answer. If she’d been gay, this intense awareness of him would never be an issue; never be discovered or even suspected.
“No, unfortunately, I’m not,” she said.
