I wrapped her into my arms, holding her one last time. I could feel the pounding of her heart against mine, her breasts crushed to my chest. Her tears wet my shirt, and her curls tickled my chin. When her sobs slowed, I leaned back, and gripping her chin, I kissed her with slow surety, pouring everything I’d felt this summer into one last shared touch.
I stepped back, rubbing her upper arms. “Go on inside now. Go to bed and get some sleep.” I dared to lift my fingers to her cheek one last time. “Sleep well.”
“Sam, I—” She tried to speak, but she was crying too hard. I turned her toward the house, led her up the steps and opened the door. With one last glance, she stepped into the kitchen. I closed the screen, and for a second, she stood there, her hands against the door. And then she turned and vanished into the shadows of the house.
I stalked away, and climbing into the farm truck, I gunned the engine, breaking the silence of the dawn. I didn’t stop until I reached the fields farthest from the house. When I got out of the truck, I squatted by the tender shoots of collards and spinach that were just beginning to appear, part of our fall crop. Fingering the leaves, I sat there for a long time, waiting for the smell of the soil and the green fields to give me the comfort it always did.
Today, it didn’t work.
I HADN’T CRIED THIS hard since Daddy died. I lay in the room which wasn’t really mine any longer—after I left, I knew it would go back to being Grandma’s—and I wept until I fell asleep. Even then, my dreams were troubled and tumultuous.
Sunlight across my face woke me a few hours later. I rubbed at my swollen, gritty eyes and stumbled out into the kitchen, disoriented. Ali sat at the table, a cup of coffee in front of her.
“Hey.” She didn’t tease me this morning or even try to make me smile. Instead she stood up and retrieved a mug from the cabinet. She poured my coffee, added milk and sugar and set it down on the table. “Sit.”
I obeyed, and she gave me a few minutes to come to life as I drank.
“Thank you.” When I could trust myself to speak, I offered her a forced smile. “This is perfect.” I took another sip. “Why aren’t you at the stand?”
“I told Cassie that I wouldn’t be in until later. Bridge and I wanted to see you off.” Her eyes were sad, but I saw understanding there, too. Resignation. “I wasn’t sure what time you were leaving.”
I shrugged. “I guess any time. Everything’s pretty much packed.”
Ali toyed with the handle of her mug. “Are you waiting for Sam to come home?”
“No.” I shook my head. “We already said good-bye. This morning. I can’t do that again.” I didn’t know how I could have any tears left, but they trickled down my face anyway.
Ali laid her hand over mine on the table. “Okay.” She hesitated, and I knew she was trying to decide what to say. “Meghan, are you sure about this? I know you and Sam have this no-strings policy, whatever that is, but it doesn’t look like it’s making you happy. He’s been walking around for days like someone shot his dog, and your eyes are so puffy, I can tell you’ve been doing some hard crying. Something that hurts this much might not be the right decision.”
I swallowed back a sob that threatened to break loose. “This is what we both need, Ali. Sam told me this morning. He wants me to leave, and you know, he’s right. This is what we agreed to, and changing the rules just because someone changed her mind isn’t fair.” I met her eyes. “I have to finish school. I have a life waiting for me, outside of Burton.”
“I know that, but where is it written that you have to give up one to have the other? Meghan, you go to school forty-five minutes away. That’s not exactly a long-distance relationship. And it’s only until you graduate. Then you could take up Mrs. Abbott’s offer and come back here for good. Did you even tell Sam what she said?”
I gripped Ali’s hand. “No, and don’t you, either. I won’t stay here and hang around like some pathetic little girl when he wants to move on. If he wanted me to stay, he would’ve told me. You know Sam. There’s no beating around the bush.”
“Maybe not, but he’s still a guy. And sometimes guys speak in a language that we don’t always understand. He might not have said the words, Meghan, but I know my brother. He wants you to stay. Or at least not leave for good. He’s in love with you, Meghan. It’s plain to everyone, except maybe you.”
I stared at her, and this time I couldn’t fight the tears. “No, he’s not. He pushed me away this morning. He told me I had a lot to look forward to, and so did he. He says he’s going to have fun now because I reminded him about that. And if that’s the only good thing to come out of this summer, then I’m glad.” I dropped my forehead onto my hand. “Don’t let him crawl back into his hole, Ali. Make him take you out to do stuff. And make him go on real dates, not just skulking around town with whatever woman he’s banging at the time.”