“What flavor is this?”she asked.
“Grapefruit.”
She took an experimental sip.It was tart and sweet.
“I thought it was my mother,” he said abruptly.“When I saw you carrying the dog.I thought it was her.”
Meredith was still tied up in knots over the shock of Daisy’s collapse, but she felt a pang of sympathy for Wade.She couldn’t imagine how he’d felt when he’d found his brother after the gunshot accident.The fact that Meredith had been indisposed herself last night might have triggered more bad memories for him.
“I reacted badly,” he said.
“No,” she argued.“I’m glad you were there to help.”
They sat in silence for a moment, then a waitress came out with a loaded tray.Wade spoke to her in Spanish, effortlessly charming, and she fluttered her lashes at him as she placed several plates on the table.There was an array of tacos.Meredith recognized the carne asada.Another type she’d never seen before.
“Is this pineapple?”she asked.
“Yeah.Try one.”
She took a tentative bite of the taco, which was a mix of spicy pork and sweet pineapple, drizzled with a green sauce.It was delicious.She ate two of the tacos on the plate.There was one left over, which he demolished in three bites.
“Do you want more?”he asked.
“No, thanks.”
He glanced at the restaurant’s façade, as if he wasn’t quite satisfied.Instead of ordering another round of tacos, he relaxed into the metal chair and sipped his beer.
“I guess I owe you an explanation,” she said.
“You don’t owe me anything.”
Meredith contemplated that.When he’d asked her personal questions, she’d been evasive, even dishonest.That didn’t sit well with her.She didn’t want to leave it like this, unfinished.He deserved the truth.Also, how could she expect him to confide in her, or talk to his mother about Billy, if Meredith couldn’t open up to him?
“Do you want to hear it?”she asked.
“Yes,” he said, his gaze cruising over her.“I do.”
She realized she’d misjudged him.She’d assumed his interest in her was purely sexual, but she hadn’t given him the opportunity to get to know her on a deeper level.When he’d tried, she’d shut him down.
“My mother died when I was fourteen.It was a combine accident.My father was operating it.”She swallowed hard.“He didn’t take any time off to grieve.He never even discussed it.He just… carried on as if nothing happened.I think he buried his heart with her, and there was nothing left for us.”
Wade didn’t say anything, but he reached out to hold her hand.She knew he understood about untimely deaths and stilted communication.
“My grandma came to live with us for a year, which helped a lot.After she left, I had to stay home and take care of my siblings.I did independent study, which was a disaster.I couldn’t keep up in my classes.”
He gave her a curious look.
“I’m dyslexic.Reading is a struggle for me, obviously.”
“Is that why you memorize things?”
“Yes,” she admitted.“I developed other skills to compensate, but it wasn’t enough.I fell behind in every subject, and I wasn’t on track to graduate.”
He finished his beer, nodding.
“Most kids from small towns want to leave somehow.They dream of athletic scholarships, academic scholarships.I knew college wasn’t an option for me.I had to find my own way out.So, I did.”
“You ran away.”
