She swallowed hard against the emotion swelling in her throat. “When are you going to move?”
“The house won’t be ready until March first. But I’m going to rent a storage unit down there and go ahead and start packing up books and stuff that I’m not using right now. That way I don’t have quite as much to do when the time comes. What about you? Are you really going to hire someone to finish that house of yours?”
Meredith shook off the melancholy and crossed the small kitchen to the coffeepot. She poured what was left into her mug then started another half pot brewing. She added flavored, powdered creamer to her cup and stared into it as she stirred and the liquid turned a kind of grayish brown. She smirked, remembering the last time Major had seen her use powdered creamer in her coffee. He’d looked like he was about to be sick or cry—or both.
“Mere?”
“Who—oh, yeah, I’ve found a contractor.”
Ward Breaux’s darkly handsome features replaced Major’s in her mind’s eye. She’d had a surprisingly good time Friday night, and he’d been everything she’d always imagined a romantic date would be. As they said good-bye at her SUV in the parking garage, her heart had raced—with nervous energy only, she was certain—when for a moment she thought he was going to try to kiss her.
She touched the back of her right hand where his lips had landed instead.
“Are you even awake this morning?”
An oven mitt smacked the back of Meredith’s head and knocked loose the towel wrapped around her wet hair. “Cut it out, will ya? I just have a lot on my mind.” She turned and leaned her hip against the cabinet.
“So can I?” Jenn stood with her hand on the knob of the door out to the common stairwell.
“Can you what?”
Her younger sister heaved a dramatic sigh. “Look, I’m sorry I took your coffee—obviously you need it more than I do this morning. Can I get a ride with you to church?”
“Yeah. Of course. But if you’re not down here ready to walk out the door at nine o’clock, I’m leaving without you.”
“You say that every time, and you never do,” Jenn called over her shoulder, leaving Meredith’s door standing open.
“And every time, we walk in late wherever we’re going.” Meredith closed the door and sent up a quick prayer that Jenn would be better about closing doors—and locking them—when she lived by herself. Sometimes Meredith was amazed that Jennifer was thirty-two and owned a successful business instead of still seventeen and playing her way through high school.
She poured a full, fresh cup of coffee and carried it with her—but stopped in the middle of the living room. Jenn hadn’t said anything to indicate she’d heard about Meredith’s date Friday. More than twenty-four hours was usually ample time for everyone in the family to find out what one of their siblings had been up to.
Maybe, for once in his life, Forbes had decided to allow Meredith to have some semblance of a private life. He’d left the Savoy much earlier than Meredith and Ward had, and surprisingly, her brother hadn’t called or e-mailed about it yesterday.
Worries about what Forbes might say to the rest of the family plagued her as she finished getting ready for church. Finally, dressed in a tailored suede jacket over a brown tweed skirt, she retrieved her Bible from the nightstand and took it and the pumps she’d worn Friday night into the kitchen.
A bowl of cereal and another cup of coffee later, she sat at the kitchen table, staring at the clock on the back of the stove as the minutes ticked away. At 8:55 she returned to the bathroom to brush her teeth and put lipstick on. At nine o’clock on the nose, she stepped into her shoes, grabbed her Bible and purse, and walked out to the SUV.
It only took ten minutes to get to church, and Sunday school never started at nine fifteen like it was supposed to. But she was tired of Jenn’s taking advantage of her. Just like everyone else did.
At five minutes after nine when Jenn still hadn’t appeared, Meredith started the engine. Movement caught her eye, and she waved at George, who pulled his car up behind Anne’s on the parking apron. Anne appeared almost immediately, and they were off.
She shifted into reverse, feeling guilty that she was about to leave her sister behind. But Jenn had her own car; and since it wasn’t raining, the fact that the ragtop leaked shouldn’t be an issue.
Besides, what message was she sending Jenn if she didn’t follow through on her threat? Jenn treated Meredith just like their parents did. They made decisions and just expected Meredith to go gladly along with them.
She backed out and drove away.
No more. She liked making people happy, but she wasn’t going to let anyone walk all over her any longer. Not Mom and Dad. Not Jennifer. And not Major O’Hara.
Jenn didn’t show up for Sunday school but caught Meredith in the vestibule outside the sanctuary before worship service.
“I can’t believe you left without me.”
Meredith raised her brows. “I warned you I would.”
“But you didn’t mean it. I was counting on you to call me, or else I wouldn’t have gone back to bed.”
“I guess you have less than two months to acclimate yourself to getting up and out the door on Sundays. Don’t forget, it’s going to take you half an hour to get here after you move.”
Jenn rolled her eyes and flounced away like a petulant teen.
Forbes intercepted Jenn and gave her one of his headlock hugs, greeting her with a, “Hey, kiddo.”
Jenn launched into blaming Meredith for making her late, and it looked like Forbes would take Jenn’s side—as usual.
Meredith shook her head and moved into the sanctuary to the opposite side from where she usually sat with her brother and sister in the midst of the singles group. Until now, she hadn’t realized how juvenile Forbes’s standard greeting for his sisters appeared.
A rustling beside Meredith caught her attention. Anne, followed by George, sidled in and sat beside her.
“Everything okay?” Anne didn’t hug her, headlock her, kiss her, or touch her in any way.
Meredith appreciated it. “Just needed a break from the sibs.”
Across the large sanctuary, Meredith’s brothers and sisters gathered with the rest of the single adults and college students. Though some of the other people did hug each other in greeting, they were quick, almost perfunctory gestures.
“Anne, is my family abnormally touchy-feely?”
“What?”
“Do you think that my brothers and sisters are too physically affectionate?”
“You make it sound like something bad.”
Meredith combed her teeth over her bottom lip but stopped when she tasted lipstick. “That’s not what I mean.”
Anne cast a sidelong glance at George—her fiancé sat a modest few inches away from her, and though his arm rested along the back of the pew behind Anne, it wasn’t as if he really had his arm around her.
“Yeah,” Anne drawled the syllable out. “You and the rest of your siblings tend to be a little more touchy-feely than what makes some people comfortable. But y’all practically lived on top of each other most of your lives. It was bound to make you extremely close and comfortable with your lack of personal space, or it could have made you hate each other and never want to be near each other once you grew up and left the house.”
“I think it’s why they have no respect for me,” Meredith murmured.
“What do you mean? Of course they respect you.”
Meredith gave her cousin her most exasperated look. “No, they don’t. Everyone takes advantage of me. And it’s because of what you said: no boundaries.” She had to raise her voice slightly as the organist began playing the prelude. “How can my parents take me seriously as an executive in the company when Rafe comes in and tackles me on the sofa in front of them? Or Jenn makes me her alarm clock and chauffeur?”