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The hard work feels good, and it gives me something to concentrate on instead of sinking into the pain of losing Meadow. It’s not really working, but I’m going to keep trying. After this, I’m going to chop wood. I’ll need it for bonfires with Adam.
If Meadow is okay with me spending time with him.
Christ, how did everything get to be such a mess? Eventually, I know I’m going to have to go see her. I need to try and clear the air and work with her to co-parent our child. I’m hoping that whatever we come up with, she’ll let me do the same with Adam. I truly do love him. I figure the best thing to do is give her some space for a bit. Maybe in a couple of weeks she’ll be ready to talk with me about it. I could suggest we meet in a public place. That might help…
I can hear the sound of a car pulling up, but I don’t turn around. Mom’s been mysteriously absent, choosing to let Jansen deal with me. I know that good fortune will be over soon. I have no idea what I will tell her, though. I hear footsteps and I stop working, turn around, and lean on the hay rake, preparing to talk to Mom—ready or not.
My chest goes tight when I see Meadow standing about eight feet away from me. She’s wearing a beautiful blue dress with her hair pulled up in a ponytail and I don’t think she’s ever looked better. She hasn’t worn a dress in a while. I wonder if she is now because of the baby. Soon, she won’t be able to hide her pregnancy. Has she told Adam? Would she agree to letting me be there so we could tell him together?
“Hey,” Meadow says, breaking up my thoughts.
I clear my throat because it feels like the air has been cut off. “Hey. Everything okay?” It’s a silly question, but I can’t think of any reason why she would be here unless something is wrong with Adam or the baby… God, please don’t let that be it.
“Yeah,” she says. “I mean, the baby is fine if that’s what you were worried about,” she mutters, her hand going to the soft swell of her stomach. I let my eyes linger there for a minute, drinking her in like a dying man taking one last look at the most precious thing in the world to him—because that’s exactly what she is. “Do you have time to talk?” she asks. My heart speeds up. I’m afraid to hope, but I am anyway.
“I just finished up here. If you want, we could go up to the house and talk,” I respond, my voice hoarse. I fight down the urge to tell her that I’m worried about her—that I love her. It wouldn’t do any good.
She nods.
We walk up to the house in silence. The tension around us is palpable. I swear I can even feel it in the way the wind blows. We make it to the house and go up the steps to the deck around back. She may have seen the boards over the window out front when she first got here—but I’d rather not have to talk about it with her.
“Go ahead and have a seat.” I motion with my hand, looking out over the skyline and the way the place overlooks my property. There was a time I loved my home. Now, it all just feels empty. Then again, everything does.
I watch as she sits down. I’m probably putting off the inevitable, but I can’t help it. “I’ll go get us something to drink and wash off.”
“Blue—”
“I’d rather not talk while I smell like horse crap, Doe,” I murmur, turning away from her.
Once I get inside, I kick off my boots and wash off at the bathroom sink. I spray deodorant on and put on a fresh shirt. I’d rather have a shower, but there’s no time for that. Next, I go to the kitchen and grab a can of sweet tea that Meadow likes to drink. I keep them in the fridge for her. I even bought some today with Adam before Black took him home. I did it without thinking—or maybe I was hoping. I grab a water for myself and take them outside. Meadow takes hers without a word. I want to sit down beside her, but I don’t. Instead, I lean on the railing and wait.
“I wanted to thank you for spending time with Adam. He had a blast.” She’s looking at me, but avoiding all eye contact. I get this bad feeling in the pit of my gut. When did everything become so hard?
“You don’t have to thank me, Doe. I love Adam. I’m grateful you let me have time with him. I’m kind of hoping you would agree to let me spend the weekends with him.”
