Chapter 14: Pity

Meredith's POV

Fern took the night shift at Grandpa's bedside and told us both to get out of her hospital.

She had driven in from the house with a thermos and a deck of cards.

She was already dealing him a hand when we left.

It was pouring by the time we reached the parking lot.

Floyd held the car door for me. I told him to get in the other side, and I drove.

Neither of us said a word on the road home.

The wipers beat back and forth.

Every time a headlight crossed his face, I looked at his mouth and then at the road.

I parked behind the carriage house instead of in front of the big house.

He didn't ask why.

We ran to his door through the downpour, and by the time he got it open we were both soaked.

He stood in the middle of the room with water running off his jacket.

I shut the door and put my back against it.

"You wanted to hear what I think of rule two," I said.

"Mer, you don't have to."

"I made it up in a kitchen with my arms crossed, because I was frightened of exactly this."

"Of what?"

"Of how fast I'd forget I was angry."

He didn't move.

That was the thing about him. He never moved first. Five years, and I had always wished he would, and I had never once said so.

I pulled the chain out from under my wet shirt.

The ring hung on the end of it, warm from my skin.

He looked at it for a long moment.

"You kept it."

"The day Dad's lawyer sent me the form, I put it on a chain so nobody at the depot would ask." My voice wobbled. "I've worn it every day since."

"Grandpa told you I took money."

"And I wore it anyway. I'm not very smart."

"You're the smartest person I know."

"Then say the thing you came in here to say, Floyd."

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