The Riches of Mercy (31 page)

But for the chance not to have the same conversation tomorrow she'd had today, she'd learn particle physics.

"She doesn't want her stew."

"She doesn't want any part of this. Fucking white collar bitch," Burdette said.

Robin Turner was the only woman at Conrad Correctional convicted of fraud. Passing bad checks was common, and Meredith heard stories of women convicted of insurance schemes. But a true financial theft was so rare everyone called Robin "Martha Stewart," and stayed away.

Even a murderer was better company.

"What do you think she'll do when her time's up?" Meredith asked.

"She'll write a book."

"Probably."

Burdette pushed her plate toward Meredith. "Eat this and stop looking so pathetic."

"Come to the chapel with me later?"

Burdette shook her head. "
Jeopardy!
is on.
Jeopardy!
is on every day, Merrybelle. When are you going to stop asking?"

"When I leave."

#

Siba was in the chapel when Meredith arrived, eyes closed, forehead to prayer mat. The chapel was in a separate building from the dormitory Meredith lived in--but not quite a church. Still storage and administration. She was sure the armory was nearby. But the chapel was bigger than the hospital's. There was a prayer room for Muslims down the hall, and a meditation room, but Siba was claustrophobic. She preferred space to face Mecca.

She didn't mind Meredith. Most people went to the chapel for morning or afternoon services and it closed at eight, just as
Jeopardy!
ended. Meredith liked the quiet.

She slipped into a pew and sat.

And waited.

Despite the posters of Jesus on the wall, despite the polished wood altar and cross, donated by the local Presbyterians, Meredith didn't feel His presence.

She didn't feel anything.

Siba got up and nodded in her direction without making eye contact, and left.

Meredith took a deep breath.

She didn't bring her own Bible here, but there was one in front of her, tucked into the pew. She could open it up, seek comfort, read at random, or distract herself with stories or metaphors. But she knew the words already.

"Where has your beloved gone, most beautiful of women? Which way did your beloved turn?"

There was no comfort in the words. Only in the way she used to be able to close her eyes and feel His arms around her. His love would pour into her and she would gather her strength and pour it back out onto her children.

He wasn't here.

#

Meredith shut her door, wishing she could lock it. Burdette might come in, ranting about nightmares. Or the guards might come in to search her stuff for drugs. Or searching for something worth more than what they had.

Most nights were uninterrupted, but she never slept deeply. Lying in bed, fresh from her shower, in her last clean prison jumpsuit, she pulled out the envelope from Natalie.

"I'm sorry--" it started. Meredith hated when Natalie opened with apologies. Lately every letter came like with self-recrimination. Her chest hurt. Her fingers shook as she held the sheet of elegant stationary--Natalie's, from her home in Charlotte.

"--I didn't want to censor the boys. I don't want them to not tell us things. Beau's okay. Really. By tomorrow he'll have forgotten. We all miss you and are counting the days."

Meredith glanced at the calendar. She marked Xs for each day’s passing. Four months of Xs. But her release date was fluid. They could deny her release. They could judge her a menace.

Nevermind she had a job and a family waiting on the outside.

"Don't give up, Merry. Wednesdays are the best days of my life."

Meredith grinned.

"Is spending time with your in-laws like being in prison? Probably not. But if you want to switch places for a week, I'm willing. New pictures as soon as the kids buy their backpacks and lunch boxes. How do you feel about
Terminator
school supplies?"

Heat rose in Meredith's cheeks.

The letter was signed, "All my love." No name. Meredith read the letter again. Then she folded it up and stuck it in her Bible and turned out the lights.

In the dark she could pretend she was just home alone. Except for the smell.

She closed her eyes.

Tomorrow would be exactly the same.

# #

Chapter Thirty-Five

Unless Natalie hit traffic in Goldsboro, the drive to Rocky Mount took two hours. In two hours, she could be in Raleigh, arguing a state petition for a commuted sentence. In one hour, she could be at the beach, remembering the best time of her life.

But the prison was in Rocky Mount and she burned a full tank of gas going there and back each Wednesday. Thirty precious dollars. Hitting the highway with her station wagon made her long for her BMW.

The prison reminded her of army barracks, all stately brick buildings and cultivated lawns surrounded by a fence she fantasized she could climb. She parked under an elm and locked her purse in the trunk and carried in her ID, keys, quarters, 5x7 photographs, two drawings of Hollingsworth and the backyard, and twenty dollars in ones.

At the prison gate, she handed over everything and let herself be patted down.

"Good to see you, Ms. Ivans," the guard said.

"Ida."

She locked everything but the pictures and the cash in a locker, got a three minute lecture on rules and regulations, and then was led into the prison courtyard.

Meredith was waiting for her.

Natalie broke into a smile and Meredith stepped toward her. Natalie glanced at the guard, who nodded, and then she took Meredith into her arms and held her close. Meredith was warm and strong and gripped her tightly, smelling of cherries and soap, her hair clean, her elbows bony.

They couldn't kiss. Kissing was banned. They stole one for goodbye, each time. Natalie knew the routine by now. But if she buried her face in Meredith's hair, maybe she could--

Meredith laughed and held her even tighter.

"Hi," Natalie said.

"Hey," Meredith said, rocking her back and forth, until the guard coughed.

Meredith stepped back. Natalie took her hand.

"She times us. We get thirty seconds," Meredith said.

"I wish you hadn't told me."

"Will you be counting next time?"

Natalie nodded.

"You wouldn't believe the things I count. Steps. Bites. Bars."

Natalie squeezed her hand.

They sat at the picnic table. Meredith's straw-colored hair captivated Natalie's attention. She wanted to run her fingers through it. Their short time together before Meredith had to go away had been sweet and passionate. Natalie craved her. Being so close tempted her.

Meredith tilted her head toward Natalie, smiling. She smiled so much when they were together.

Meredith slid her hand over Natalie's knee. "Pictures. Give me the pictures."

"These pictures?" Natalie held them up.

"Those." Meredith didn't reach for them. She was too dignified.

Natalie used both hands, leaving her leg unguarded for Meredith's wandering hand. She flipped over the first picture. Merritt, leaning over his spotted hot dog creation, mugging at the camera.

Meredith giggled. "You let them eat that?"

"Turkey dogs."

"Do they know?"

"Nope."

"Natalie."

"What?" Natalie leaned into her shoulder. "Are you going to tell me not to lie to the children?"

"Use your best judgment."

Natalie grinned and turned over another picture.

Meredith snatched at it. Natalie lifted her hand.

"Natalie," Meredith said warningly.

"Hm?"

Meredith settled her hand onto Natalie's stomach, sending heat through her shirt, streaking up her chest. Streaking down.

The guard coughed.

Natalie handed over the picture. "I let the kids take it. They were jealous of the camera."

"They knew you were coming to see me."

Natalie nodded.

"And they knew what I wanted. Good boys."

"Whatever."

Meredith bumped shoulders with Natalie, studying the picture. Natalie, sprawled on the couch, beaming with Hollingsworth in her lap.

"You look so relaxed," Meredith said.

"For the picture."

Meredith glanced up.

"And because the boys were happy."

Meredith chuckled.

"And because I'd get to see your face when you saw it. I tried extra hard."

Meredith met her gaze. They didn't dare move. The guard was watching, and probably inmates, too, from the windows. Cars were passing by on the road outside. Nothing was private. Nothing was theirs.

Natalie swallowed. "There's more."

"I don't need anything more."

"Okay." Natalie lowered the last picture.

"Well, if you brought it all the way here."

Natalie raised her eyebrows.

Meredith tilted her head.

"Fine." Natalie offered the picture. The boys standing on their heads against the living room wall, and Natalie between them, sitting like a Buddha.

"Let me guess...Jake took this."

Natalie shook her head, grinning.

"Hank?"

"Yeah."

Meredith turned the picture upside down and laughed. "Look at you all."

Natalie checked her watch. They'd used up nearly a third of their time.

"What is it?" Meredith asked.

"I got a case."

"Good!"

"It's bad. It's a bad case, Merry."

When Meredith wrapped her arms around Natalie, neither Natalie nor the guard begrudged her, and Natalie told her about the scene out on I-40 two nights ago, and how Luis Duarte was uncooperative, and how River Landing was devastated.

"You have to do it," Meredith said.

"I know."

Meredith kissed Natalie's shoulder.

"The money--" Natalie started.

"Not for the money."

Natalie exhaled.

"Defense of the indefensible."

"His father just wants his son, like, what? Whole? Safe? I don't know."

Meredith straightened, thumbing through her pictures.

"I'm sure your friends wanted you to just stay around. Hank and Theresa. They didn't want change."

Meredith nodded. "Change comes brutally. What I don't get is all these people in here. Some who altered lives, like I did. Some who had their lives altered for them, by getting arrested, or sent away. And they don't see it."

"They want to go back."

"Even if before was awful."

"But not you?"

"I have something completely different to go back for."

"Kind of. But your home, your boys, your job... those things haven't changed." Natalie hesitated.

"It's okay."

"Maybe there was an aberration, and that was the change, and now it's back to--" She couldn't quite say 'normal.' "--What it was before."

"So I'm just like them."

Natalie patted her back. "Just like them."

Meredith leaned back, gazing at the sky, and then turning to see at Natalie's smile. "You're cheerful for someone who has to say goodbye in five minutes."

"That's when--" Natalie lowered her voice. "I get to kiss you."

"And flirting, too?"

"I can't help it. I'm giddy. This is my favorite place in the world."

"Prison."

"You're here. It's a beautiful day. Warm." Natalie inhaled. "I think... God is here. Isn't He? I come here and there's so much more light. I think this is where He hangs out. Prisons. And with you."

Meredith glanced away.

"Here." Natalie dug in her pockets for the twenty dollars. "For snacks."

"Snacks," Meredith said.

"You should eat more."

Meredith didn't accept the money. "You should eat better."

"How do you know the ministry isn't giving me organic vegetables and grass-raised beef and brown rice?"

"You've got a pimple right here." Meredith touched her cheek.

Natalie snorted.

"And you shouldn't drive four hours to see me for such a short time," Meredith said.

"Oh, stop."

Meredith chuckled.

"Our thirty minutes are almost up."

"Yeah."

"Thirty seconds, thirty minutes... is she always like that?" Natalie nodded to the guard.

"Yes. We call her Treinta."

Natalie glanced at the guard and then kissed Meredith, a quick, stolen press of lips to make her heart flutter and her palms sweat and everything right with the world.

"I will do anything," she said as they separated, "to do that once a week."

"How about twice?" Meredith kissed her, curling her arm around Natalie's neck to pull her close.

Howls erupted from the walls.

The guard's hand landed on Natalie's shoulder. "I'm gonna toss you out on your ear, Ivans."

Natalie grinned and got up. "See you Saturday."

"I'll be counting the days."

Natalie followed Ida into the prison offices, temporarily blinded after the sunlight. Ida went to the file cabinet. "Got your mail, Ms. Ivans."

"Great."

"You really do case work for all these people?"

"I see what’s there. Sometimes it's just drafting a letter or whatever. But I know all of these women have their own lawyers. Why me?"

"Because you're not another lawyer. You're family."

Natalie smiled.

Ida handed her a packet of letters.

"How's Merry doing?"

Ida pursed her lips.

"Ms. Johon."

"Still the same, Ivans. She doesn't talk to anyone, doesn't leave her room much. Really eats only on stew day. People like her but she doesn't really have any friends, you know? They know her from therapy, where she's compassionate, or from the infirmary, where she takes care of them. But it’s not like, a friend."

Natalie nodded.

"I couldn't help overhearing..."

"Of course." Natalie leaned against the doorway.

"That stuff about light. Meredith doesn't to go to the chapel services here. You know, ministers come from all over. Even got a Buddhist guy once a week, and these other freaks from Raleigh who--anyway. Meredith avoids them like the plague."

Natalie frowned.

"She goes to the chapel every night to sit, though. I guess to pray. It's her routine. While Siba's all up in there praying to Mohammed or whatever, planning to bomb us all."