Page 19 of The Summer We Kept Secrets (The Destin Diaries #4)

“ O kay—backpack, water bottle, emotional baggage…you got it all?” Meredith eased the baby out of Jonah’s arms with a sly sisterly smile as she helped him out the door the next morning for his second day of classes.

Jonah rolled his eyes as he gave Atlas to her. “You rehearse that one?”

“Nope,” Meredith said, stroking the tiniest fuzz-covered head that ever existed. “Came to me in the moment. It’s called talent.”

He gave a snort and bent down to tie the laces on his battered sneakers, the kind he'd worn since high school. Meredith swayed Atlas a little, the move freakishly instinctive. The baby let out a delicate coo, then settled against her like he belonged there.

Jonah straightened up and looked over at them, the corners of his mouth twitching. “You look like Mom on the first day of school. Minus that blinding pink robe she wore.”

“The breakfast robe,” Meredith said on a laugh. “I can still see her standing in the driveway when we walked to the bus stop, waving like she was sending us to war.”

“And packing us breakfast burritos that exploded in our backpacks because she couldn’t figure out how to wrap them tight enough.”

“She was better with the morning pep talks than the food prep.” Meredith shifted Atlas and nearly melted at the way he shuddered when he sighed. “‘Today is a fresh start,’” she mimicked their mother’s chirpy tone. “‘Go in there and show the world what Lawson kids are made of.’”

“We’re made of burritos, Melissa Lawson.” Jonah grabbed Meredith’s keys and jangled them. “Thanks for the wheels, and the babysitting service.”

“You’re so welcome,” she said, and meant it. “Everyone is off doing their own thing today, and Dad said I’m officially on a PTO day.”

“Have you ever taken one of those in your life? Not that watching my kid while I’m in my first full day of kitchen lab is a vacation.”

“It is for me,” she said, stroking Atlas’s head. “I get to be a world-class auntie, and don’t tell me I can’t do that mountain of laundry I saw in your room.”

He paused in the act of sliding his backpack on, his gaze locked on her with love in his eyes. “You’re so much like her, you know that?”

She knew exactly who he meant.

“She loved a good load of laundry,” Meredith said on a laugh.

“She loved…being a mom.”

The words made her heart feel like it was folding in half. “She was quite good at it, too.”

They smiled at each other, and for a moment, the years fell away. Jonah didn’t look like a single father starting his life from scratch. He looked like her big brother, gearing up for another day of school after pounding down three eggs and way too much toast while Meredith barely touched a yogurt.

“We had a good childhood,” he said as if he could read her mind. “I mean, until we didn’t.”

She gave a sad smile. “Yeah.”

“And you,” he added, leaning in, “look pretty darn natural with that little beast.” He gave her a look with enough weight to make it more than a casual compliment. “Honestly, Mer… when are you gonna find a good guy and be the world’s most overachieving mother?”

She blinked. Her heart stuttered. She stared at him.

He didn’t know. Of course he didn’t. The words hadn’t been said aloud yet. Not to anyone. And now, here he was, standing in front of her, innocently tossing a grenade into her morning.

“Uh…I’m so busy trying to be the world’s most overachieving architect.”

Jonah chuckled. “You? Do both. But then, I suppose you need to find some idiot to fall in love with you.”

She looked down at the baby, his eyes blinking up at her with sleepy trust. Her throat went tight. “Idiots I can find. It’s the good ones that are few and far between.”

“Hey.” He touched her shoulder. “I was just kidding. Any guy in the world would be lucky to have you, Miss Perfect.”

She smiled and leaned over to kiss the top of Atlas’s head. “Well, this is the only man I need for the time being.”

Jonah gave her a hug and a kiss to his son. “Good luck. You’re the best. I’ll text if I get out early.”

“Don’t get out early!” she exclaimed. “Schmooze the professor. Get extra credit. Make your fellow students look lazy. Have I taught you nothing in life?”

He cracked up and jogged out the front door, keys jingling, bag swinging.

And then, for the first time in what felt like weeks, she was alone.

She turned slowly, the house unusually quiet. Atlas gave another tiny sigh, still nestled in her arms.

“Okay, little man,” she whispered. “Let’s own this domestic goddess morning.”

She padded down the stairs to the lower level and set him gently into the cushioned bassinet next to Jonah’s unmade bed. He didn’t fuss, just gurgled sweetly and shifted his blue-eyed gaze to the window and the light.

Meredith crouched beside him. “You are dangerously precious, you know that? I’m already in love with you. And I do have the power to give you a cousin, you know.”

But would she?

Meredith had done an astounding job of compartmentalizing her pregnancy since she’d arrived, but could she do that forever? She was clearly staying here for a while…shouldn’t she get a doctor? Tell someone? Do something?

It certainly wasn’t like her to be paralyzed.

“Let’s just start with making this room fit for two human males, shall we?”

She kissed his forehead and got up, grabbing the overflowing laundry basket near the door. It was loaded with bibs, onesies, burp cloths, and Jonah’s many spit-up-covered T-shirts.

“Might as well do his sheets,” she muttered, proceeding to strip the bed. And pick up clothes. And do a little cleaning in the bathroom.

Before long, she was up in the laundry room, with Atlas on the floor in the bouncy seat that Aunt Vivien had produced. It made him very portable.

“Do you think these baby socks multiply overnight?” she asked him. “Because I swear, I didn’t even know socks this small existed.”

She started the washer and moved into the kitchen, bringing the little guy along. There, she found sterile pre-made bottles in the fridge—it did help that the place was teeming with aunts who treated formula prep like an assembly line.

Atlas made a contented little chirp from the bouncy.

“Coming, sir,” she said, swooping in to gather him again. “Let’s change that diaper and then dine al fresco , shall we?”

A few minutes later, they were settled into the rocking chair, bathed in fresh salty air and shaded from the Destin late-morning sun.

She held him close, angling the bottle just right. His lips latched eagerly, his eyes never leaving hers. Something unspoken passed between them—a gentle tethering that was impossible to define.

As he suckled, Meredith gave in to a wave of peace. And not her usual peace—like the sight of an empty inbox or that last slash on a To Do list. This was a different kind of fulfillment. This was…deeper.

Could being a mother be the ultimate accomplishment?

She leaned her head back, rocking them both. Her palm drifted to her own abdomen, flat but no longer hers alone. There was a baby in there and she simply had to deal with that.

Carefully, without disturbing Atlas, she reached for her phone and opened her browser. With one hand, she searched for Destin OB/GYN offices and found a practice with good reviews.

Heart thumping, she called.

“Coastal Women’s Health, how can I help you?”

“Hi,” Meredith said, voice steady even as her throat tightened. “I…I’d like to make a new patient appointment. I’m pregnant.”

Saying the words made it more real than the two pink lines ever had.

The receptionist was warm, professional. She answered the easy questions and, well, of course Meredith had her insurance information memorized. After reciting it, she mouthed to Atlas, “Have you met me?”

They settled on an appointment date a few weeks away, and Meredith hung up, staring at the baby in her arms.

Atlas blinked slowly, the corners of his mouth sticky and sweet, so she dabbed them with the cloth diaper that Grandma Maggie insisted all babies had to have in the house. It was a nicely functional little blast from the past.

“Well,” she whispered, thinking about the phone call, “I guess it’s official now, little man. You’re going to have a cousin.”

An unexpected tear burned her lid and slid out from under her lashes. Hormones, she told herself. And maybe hope. For a future she hadn’t expected but might be what she wanted after all.

Holding Atlas certainly made her think so.

Rocking, she swiped the tears away, tugged the empty bottle free, and eased him onto her shoulder. He let out a soft burp—honestly, no one knew how to get him to do that like Aunt Meredith—then drifted to sleep.

She took him back downstairs, tucked him gently into the bassinet, adjusted the monitor beside it, and tiptoed upstairs to the kitchen, making sure the monitor receiver was on.

She was on her way to the laundry room when the office door opened and her father stepped out. “Oh, thank God you’re here.”

“I’m on baby duty,” she said, holding up the monitor. “He just went down. What’s going on?”

Dad ran his hand through his hair, looking a little frazzled. “There’s a permit issue on the Hill View complex. They think I submitted the wrong elevation plans. I didn’t.”

“You sure?” she teased. “You’ve had the Kate distraction.”

He didn’t even smile. “They’re threatening to shut down work until it’s resolved. I need someone to go through the files with me. I know the originals are on the shared drive, but the update from the surveyor is missing.”

“I know exactly where they are, and I have a good friend in the city manager’s office. Also, that surveyor is always late, but I have his secret cell phone. Let me get my laptop and we’ll fix this.”

Relief poured over his face. “You’re a lifesaver, Meredith. Seriously. I couldn’t run this business without you.”

But would she be a lifesaver when she had her own baby to care for? Probably. She was Miss Perfect, as Jonah constantly reminded her. Perfect . If that wasn’t the height of irony, she didn’t know what was.

Two hours later, the fire was out. The city had their corrected elevations, the right documents had been located, watermarked, and sent, and Dad had finally stopped pacing the length of the living room like an architect on the verge of spontaneous combustion.

Meredith shut her laptop and leaned back on the couch, balancing her notes on one knee. “Paper trail restored. Municipal gods appeased.” At his look, she laughed. “And your God, too.”

He winced as if the words hit him somewhere tender but before she could ask, he dropped into the armchair across from her, exhaling loudly.

“I swear to you, admin crap will be the end of me. I can sketch a cantilevered deck over a marsh in my sleep, but I will never understand the way permitting offices organize digital files.”

“They don’t,” Meredith said. “That’s the secret.”

He pointed at her. “This is why you’re taking over Acacia someday. Someday soon, I hope.”

She laughed, a little too loudly, a little too forced. “Sure. Right after I solve world peace.”

“I’m serious.” Eli leaned forward, elbows on knees. “You’ve got the full package, Mer. The design instinct, the client polish, the project management skills… and, somehow, the patience to untangle the city’s red tape like it’s a word jumble.”

Her stomach twisted.

He meant it as a compliment, as a proud father marveling at his daughter. And, honestly, she normally lived for his praise. But today, all she heard was a countdown clock ticking toward disappointment.

“Thanks, Dad,” she said, softening her voice.

He smiled. “You make it easy. I honestly don’t know how I got so lucky. Jonah, too, even if he’s on a different timeline. Still, when I look at you, I just can’t believe I had a hand in creating such a perfect creature. Oh, don’t make that face. I’m not calling you ‘Miss Perfect’ like Jonah does.”

“I’m not…perfect.”

“Hah. Prove me wrong.”

She glanced down, pretending to study her notes. It wouldn’t be hard to make that point. Two words. Two harsh, impossible, really dumb words.

“I mean it, Mer. You’re awesome.”

Wasn’t he going to stop? She was so not awesome.

“Thanks,” she muttered.

He leaned in some more, still not done making her wallow in guilt. “You know, after your mom died, I wasn’t sure either of you would come through it. Heck, I wasn’t sure I would. But you…you just attached yourself to life. To the work. To me.”

Because I didn’t have anyone else. Because I couldn’t let myself fall apart. Because I thought if I was perfect enough, you wouldn’t leave me, too.

But she kept all that self-therapy to herself. Instead, she just swallowed the lump rising in her throat and lifted her chin. “Well. Somebody had to keep the firm from crumbling.”

“You did more than that,” he said. “You’re one of the most grounded, moral, disciplined people I know. And that’s rare, Mer. It really is.”

She literally had to bite her tongue to keep from screaming, “ Stop !”

How could she tell him? It would break his heart and his cracked-up impression that she was all that. She was none of that. She was the fool who made a series of decisions without thinking. The idiot who wanted pleasure and freedom from commitment.

She knew Trevor was temporary. She didn’t know he was married, but she knew he was nothing more than a good time.

How could she ever tell the truth to this man sitting in front of her, singing her praises and calling her grounded and moral? This man who loved God and…her.

She couldn’t. Not now, at least.

“You okay?” Eli asked.

She blinked. “Yeah. Just…tired.” Did he notice how often she said that?

He leaned back in the chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. “This was supposed to be a vacation for you, Mer.”

“It is,” she assured him. “I’m loving the beach and Atlas. Even Jonah is…good.” She almost laughed. After she broke the news, he would officially be “the good Lawson kid” again. Been a lot of years since he could claim that title.

She pressed a hand to her abdomen, unconsciously. She really should get this conversation and disappointment out of the way.

“Dad…” she started, voice low.

He studied her, his gaze expectant.

She opened her mouth, then closed it. She just couldn’t break his heart. Not yet, anyway.

“Yeah?” he urged.

“Nothing, I just…I love you, that’s all.”

“I love you, too, Mer.” Eli stood and walked over, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You’re everything I ever hoped you’d be.”

“Thanks,” she whispered, barely managing the word.

He left the room a moment later, whistling as he walked down the hallway.

She sat there and didn’t move until she heard Atlas’s tiny mew from the monitor, then headed off to answer his call.

She was a great architect. And a lousy daughter. But what kind of mother could she be? Right now, she wasn’t sure and maybe the best thing to do was to hide away, give the baby up for adoption, and never face her father’s disappointment.