Page 29 of The Summer We Kept Secrets (The Destin Diaries #4)
“ T hey’re coming? Here?” Meredith froze mid-shake, the baby bottle still in her hand. She stared at Jonah, who leaned against the kitchen counter like he’d been tossed there by a rogue wave, his expression unreadable.
He nodded, scrubbing a hand through his already-mussed hair. “That’s what I said. Carly’s parents want to see their grandson.”
“Here?” she repeated. “As in this house?”
He lifted a brow. “Do you see any other houses around here full of Wylies and Lawsons and drama and sand in the sofa cushions?”
She blinked, a long To Do list suddenly forming in her head.
“How much time do we have? What room will they stay in? Is her sister coming, too? We’ll need space.
There’s a twin bed in the nursery, which won’t work.
I’ll move out of the upstairs guest room and crash down there.
Or do you think we should put a queen bed in there—oh, does the sofa pull out?
They may want to be with him. I can help clean. It should all be clean and tidy and?—”
“Perfect?” Jonah deadpanned, staring at her with a hint of amusement in his exhausted gaze.
“Well, why not?” she fired back. “You want to impress them, right? To know Atlas is in a clean and comfortable environment?”
He gave a low grunt and headed to the fridge, opening it and staring at the contents like it was the horizon, calling him to escape.
“And now,” he muttered, “we have yet another opinion on how to handle this.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
He grabbed a yogurt and peeled off the foil top. “Let’s just say Dad and Kate weren’t exactly on the same page.”
Meredith arched a brow as she placed the bottle under hot water, still not happy that the contents weren’t yet precisely 98.6, the gold standard of formula warmth. “What does that mean? Like, disagreeing on what to serve them? Or how long they should stay?”
Jonah found a spoon and dug in. “Try good cop-bad cop. Christian and atheist. Grace and science. Black and white.”
Her eyes widened. “Wait. What?”
He shrugged. “Don’t worry. I handled it.”
“You handled it ?” She laughed a little, disbelieving. “You’re a sleep-deprived single dad who still uses his sweatshirt as a napkin. What does ‘handling it’ even look like?”
Jonah leaned against the counter, then pointed at her with a spoon dangerously close to dripping peach Yoplait on the floor.
“Like letting both of them talk at me for twenty minutes, then agreeing with two differing opinions. I handled it,” he repeated, “so they can be equally annoyed and call it compromise.”
Atlas, seated in the bouncer on the kitchen island, chose that moment to let out a high-pitched coo and thump both his feet against the padded edge like he had something to say about it, too.
Meredith sighed and snapped the bottle cap to test the temperature. “I didn’t realize Kate and Dad were that…different.”
Jonah scooped the last bit of yogurt and tossed his spoon into the sink. “Yeah. They are. Which is kind of the point. But also, kind of the problem.”
Meredith paused, satisfied with the temperature, but not her brother’s vague response.
He’d been around here longer—he knew them better. Would he tell her if there were any red flags? Would he even notice if Dad was flying headlong into a relationship that would break his heart?
“Do you think she’s not right for him?” she asked.
“I told you, I think Kate is pretty amazing. She’s helped me so much.”
“I know she wrote a letter of recommendation for your culinary program, but…”
“But nothing.” He stepped closer to Atlas and leaned over, tapping his nose with a smile. “She’s been…” He blew out a breath and his shoulders dropped like a weight had been removed. “Don’t balk at this, but in some ways, she’s been like a mother to me.”
She shouldered Jonah away from the baby to lift his little body. “What does that mean?” she asked him.
“I’ll feed him,” Jonah said, reaching in to lift the baby up. “It means she’s been steady and supportive. We cooked together a lot when I came here back in the spring. It was Kate who made me believe I had real talent in the kitchen. I never expected that. No one’s ever done that for me lately.”
Meredith nodded, the comments tweaking at her. “Well, with all due respect and not wanting to start an argument, Jonah, you were the one who took off and drove a van up and down California, keeping Dad and me at arm’s length for years.”
He shrugged, but didn’t disagree.
“And if Carly hadn’t kicked you out and demanded you get your life together, would you have ever come back to us?”
“What does that have to do with Kate?” He pried the bottle free from her hands while Atlas smacked his lips together.
“I mean, we could have supported you and spotted your talent,” Meredith said. “You never gave us a chance.”
“This isn’t about you, Mer. You asked about Kate, and I answered.”
“I asked if she was right for Dad, not you,” Meredith countered.
Jonah’s lips twitched. “I wondered when the interrogation was coming.”
“I’ve been busy,” she muttered, looking away for something to clean. “With…stuff.”
“Stuff.” He slipped the bottle between Atlas’s lips. “Let me guess. You’ve scoped out every preschool within a hundred-mile radius, alphabetized the pantry, and reorganized all the linen closets by function.”
“And color,” she quipped. “I’ll get started on the preschools tomorrow.”
He gave in to a smile, never able to resist her comebacks.
“Look, Jonah.” She cocked her head, not interested in a fight. Not now. “I just want Dad to be happy. He deserves someone who really gets him.”
Jonah’s gaze relaxed just a touch. “Then maybe, Miss Butt-In , you should try actually getting to know Kate before you decide whether she’s worthy of him.”
Meredith nodded, since he was right. “I haven’t had the chance,” she said softly.
“Then make it.” He stroked Atlas’s cheek with tenderness she honestly hadn’t known her brother had in him. “I get the protectiveness, Mer. He’s our dad. But you don’t have to protect him from love. Or conflict. He’s stronger than that.”
She watched Jonah adjust the baby expertly, his large hand cupping the soft curve of Atlas’s head as he greedily took the bottle. It made something in her chest ache. He looked like a dad. Natural and loving.
Could she be that kind of mother?
Jonah kissed Atlas’s temple then turned. “I’m gonna take this guy outside. He needs some fresh air. And so do I.”
He stepped onto the deck, leaving the door open—they never closed it in this house—as she heard footsteps and a woman clearing her throat.
Kate. Oh, goodness. How much of that had she heard?
“Hey,” Kate greeted as she came into the kitchen.
“Hi, there,” Meredith replied. “Jonah’s out on the deck with Atlas if you’re looking for him.”
“Actually, I was looking for you.”
She swallowed. Had she eavesdropped?
“Well, here I am. What do you need?”
“Time,” she said simply. “And despite the fact that Eli and I just walked for way too long, I’d love to hit that sand again, maybe with someone not as fast. Take a stroll on the beach with me?”
Yep, she’d heard every word.
“I’d love to,” Meredith said, mustering her best casual tone.
Kate glanced toward the deck again, then back to Meredith. They held each other’s gaze for a minute, a challenge and a question in the air.
A question that Meredith was ready to ask, but she wasn’t sure she was going to like the answer.
The sun cast a shimmer that made the Gulf look like a brushed sheet of light. The tide was low, leaving a wide stretch of white sand between the boardwalk and the surf.
They left their shoes near the house and strolled barefoot to the waterline.
The conversation—if she could give the small talk they exchanged so weighty a name—floated between Meredith and Kate, light and inconsequential.
Surely they were both waiting for the perfect moment to get into something more serious.
“This sand is ridiculous,” Meredith murmured as her toes curled and disappeared with each step. “The color of powdered sugar.”
Kate chuckled. “I once broke your father’s heart by explaining the color is the result of finely eroded quartz from the Appalachian Mountains.” She gave an apologetic smile. “Blinding him with science.”
“You people ruin everything,” Meredith teased, jabbing her gently with an elbow. “Don’t ever try to explain how rainbows work, or I’ll cry.”
Kate grinned, her hair tousled by the wind as they reached the calm surf and stood for a moment, letting it froth around their ankles. “Deal. I’ll leave the famous Destin magic intact.”
The laughter faded, and Meredith felt the real reason for this stroll settle on her shoulders as they started to walk. She inhaled slowly, tasting salt and tension on the breeze. The silence stretched just long enough to feel awkward, and finally, she just…went for it.
“So,” she said, eyes fixed on the horizon. “You and my dad. Is it serious?”
Kate didn’t miss a beat. “Don’t start picking out what color you want to wear to the wedding quite yet, Meredith.”
The joke landed wrong—Meredith’s smile twitched, then faltered. Even the mention of a wedding made something inside her tighten.
She cleared her throat. “Have you two talked about that kind of thing? Marriage? The distance? I mean, your job at Cornell is…pretty solid. Impressive, actually. Are you expecting him to move there?”
Kate turned to look at her, one brow arched. “Wow. You don’t play, as your brother likes to say.”
Meredith shrugged, not about to apologize for directness. “Sorry. I care about him. A lot. And I know he’s my dad and I’m his daughter, but we’ve got a special bond forged by a shared love of architecture.”
“And grief,” Kate added. “He’s your only parent and he’s a magnificent one. I understand, respect, and absolutely love your closeness. When he talks about you, well…” Kate laughed. “I was pretty sure you hung the moon even before I met you.”
The compliment warmed, and relaxed, her. And reminded her just how far the mighty were about to fall.