you don’t want to go.”
“She just wants the best for me—” He broke off when he saw her bite her lip again, almost drawing blood. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I understand.” Hannah shook off his hand and stepped back. “Your mom wants you to date the perfect little pompom girl, Merry McGavin’s precious daughter. Not some piece of trash like that slutty Tracy Simmons’s spawn.”
“Stop it.” Now he was angry too. “You know that’s not true.”
But it was true. “Nice try, Josh.”
“I just need time to get her used to the idea of you and me. After my stepfather dumped her, we didn’t have much choice but to move back here. She’s been really depressed. She talks about Courtney nonstop, keeps pushing me to ask her out. I wanted to tell you, but—”
“But what? You thought my feelings might be hurt?” Her laughter was short and sharp, like a dog’s bark. “Smart guy. No wonder you’re in honors classes.” Bitterness poured from every word. Why had she trusted him? She knew better. She’d always known better.
“You’re not the only one who’s had it tough, Hannah.”
“So says the star quarterback.” Why was she even standing here, listening to this? “See you around.”
She took off toward the trees, half wanting Josh to follow her and half praying he didn’t.
“Hannah!” he called after her.
Before she had reached the underbrush, she was crying. She pressed her lips together so she wouldn’t make any telltale noises. More than anything, she did not want him to know how badly he’d hurt her.
By the time she made it back to the road and into town, it was clear he wasn’t coming after her. A fine sheen of perspiration covered her forehead, and she swiped at it with the back of her hand.
Never again. He could apologize all he wanted, talk about his mom until he was blue in the face, but it wouldn’t matter.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. But it wasn’t Josh she was mad at. She was mad at herself for letting down her guard, for thinking that a childish connection might still lay between them.
For believing that she would ever, ever, in a million years, be good enough for someone like Josh Hargrove.
Merry looked down at Hunter’s sleeping form in the hospital crib. Tubes and sensors decorated his little body like some macabre Christmas tree. She reached out, stroked his cheek with her finger, and felt the guilt rise up in her throat like bile.
Kawasaki disease. Rare, but treatable with intravenous gamma globulin. Merry looked at the bag of medicine hanging from the IV stand. Ten thousand dollars a pop. Thank goodness Jeff hadn’t let their health insurance lapse. They’d been at Vanderbilt Children’s Hospital for five days already, and she had no idea how much longer they would keep Hunter.
“He’s going to be okay, Merry.” Jeff slipped his arm around her shoulders. “He just needs time for the medicine to work.”
“I know.”
Jeff’s hand cupped her shoulder, caressing it. “I’m sorry I have to leave.”
Merry turned to him and rested her head against his chest. “Daphne Munden was sweet to offer to look after the kids today.”
She felt Jeff nod. “Are you sure you don’t want to take a break?” he asked. “Go home, just for tonight? I’ll stay with him.”
Merry shook her head. “Will you explain to the kids?” She wished she could see them, hold them, for just a moment. Courtney in all her adolescent arrogance; Jake, smelling of sweaty boy; and little Sarah, who had made Hunter a get-well card out of construction paper and stickers.
“They understand, Merry. It’s okay.”
If only she hadn’t gone back to work full time. If only she hadn’t left him at day care.
“Merry.” Jeff spoke softly, but his voice held a note of reproof. “You have to quit doing that.”
“Doing what?” She tried to play innocent, but how could she when she only felt self-reproach?
“Hunter didn’t get sick because we put him in day care.”
Merry’s shoulders slumped. “I know it’s not rational, but that doesn’t mean my feelings aren’t real.”
“But real and reasonable aren’t always the same thing.”
Merry pushed away from him. “Jeff—”
He reached for her, but she eluded him. “You’d better start home,” she said. “It’s already getting dark outside.”
His gaze lingered on Hunter. “Night, pal,” he said. He looked at her. “I’ll try to get back up here tomorrow.”
“Stay with the kids. They need one of us to be there.”
“Merry?”
“What?” She wanted him to leave so she could cry in peace. She did that a lot