She sighed and closed her eyes. “I have to tell you…something.”
This middle of the night rendezvous probably wasn’t the ideal moment to break her news—and Dad’s heart. But Meredith had no choice.
She finally had her father and brother as a captive and private audience. Moreover, their mood was clearly softened by the whisper they believed they heard from Mom.
And maybe her mother had reached down from heaven and guided Jonah to that scripture because the words encouraged Meredith in a way she’d never expected. If Mom, then a newbie Christian who hadn’t even gone public with her faith, prayed for the seedling that Meredith carried in her belly, then it all felt…right.
She hoped.
It wasn’t going to feel right to Dad, not when he found out how this baby had happened.
“What is it, honey?” her father asked tenderly, adding that look of kindness that was so authentic, it often twisted Meredith’s heart. No one was as good as this man. And what Meredith had done—even without knowing Trevor’s situation—was sonotgood.
He’d take it personally, of course. He’d think he’d failed as a father, when she was the one who’d failed as a daughter.
Time ticked and the clock over the stove flipped to 4:00 A.M., and she knew she had to speak. She slid onto a barstool, vaguely aware that she laid her hand on the open Bible as if it might support her.
“You’re shaking,” Jonah said, his gaze following the gesture. He put his hand over hers and searched her face. “Meredith. What’s wrong?”
Across from them on the other side of the island, Eli rocked side to side with Atlas tucked into one arm, a bottle in the other.
“Nothing,” she lied, then gave a soft laugh. “Or everything. Depends on your perspective.”
Still regarding her closely, Dad’s finger absently stroked Atlas’s cheek, moving in a rhythm that matched the way the baby suckled. For a moment, she was mesmerized, staring at the simple gesture, feeling her heart ripped into a million pieces.
She watched his finger, the tiny movement demonstrating so much love, it squeezed the breath out of her lungs.
“You’re scaring me,” Dad said softly, the words pulling her gaze from his finger to his face. “Whatever it is, you can tell us.”
“Seriously,” Jonah added, looking hard at her, his own expression strangely at peace for the first time since she’d arrived. Maybe since Mom died. Goodness, what had just happened to him?
She looked from one to the other. Her father. Her brother. The two men who knew her best. Who loved her best.
And she hated what she was about to do to their image of her.
“I met someone.” Her voice cracked. “A guy.”
Jonah’s brows lifted. “That’s what this is about? A dude?”
Eli gave a soft, relieved laugh. “It was bound to happen, although I can’t imagine you left the office long enough to go ona date. Who is he?” He smiled, his sky-blue eyes glinting with hope she was about to destroy.
“Yeah, well, who he is isn’t important or the point of the story.”
Her words held enough weight and warning that Dad’s smile immediately disappeared.
“What is the point of the story?” he asked, the first tension evident in his voice.
Oh, no. This was going to hurt…everyone.
“The point of the story is…” She dropped her gaze to the Bible, staring at her mother’s writing, though it was too small and far away to read. “Grandchildren.”
No one spoke. In fact, no one breathed. The only sound was tiny Atlas smacking his lips around a baby bottle.
She finally looked up and right into her father’s already hurt eyes. “It appears there’s going to be another one.”
She heard Jonah whisper, “What?” but didn’t look away from Dad.
His face flashed a thousand different emotions in a nanosecond, but mostly shock. And disbelief. And, oh, yeah. Disappointment.
