The Riches of Mercy (45 page)

Natalie kissed her cheek.

"There was something you stopped me from doing earlier."

"Now's good," Natalie said.

"You have to get off me, then." Meredith pushed at her.

"But you feel amazing."

Meredith grinned.

Natalie slid to the side, letting Meredith touch her shoulder and guide her onto her back.

"I love you. I am so sorry about everything."

"Merry."

"I love you so much."

Natalie brought her close for a kiss, and thought she could kiss Meredith forever. Meredith touched her again. Natalie was grateful for Meredith's lips on her breasts. Then her abdomen. Then lower. Natalie groaned and offered herself.

If she was good, if she sacrificed, if she managed to keep everyone she loved alive, she would be rewarded.

# #

Chapter Fifty-Two

"Dear Mommy" was in Beau's blocky lettering. The rest of the letter was Natalie's penmanship. "School is nice. I don't have many friends yet, because people think I'm mean. Natalie says smile more. Smile smile smile."

Meredith studied the smilie faces drawn all over the letter. She showed it to Burdette.

Burdette smiled.

"She says laugh, too, but not at anyone. It's hard. Merry doesn't have many friends either, but he likes his. He's like, cool."

"The like is crossed out," Meredith said.

"Good luck."

Meredith folded the letter and put it in her pocket. The green beans and mashed potatoes on her plate hardly seemed like a good compliment to her letters. Nor did just Burdette. Since Robin had joined them at meals, things were livelier. But Robin was at an appeal hearing.

People came, people went. She couldn't keep track anymore. If a face became familiar, she'd try and remember their name, too.

"Want my roll?" Burdette said.

"Yes."

Burdette held it up. "For your milk."

"Fine."

They swapped.

"Your mind seems elsewhere, girl," Burdette said.

"I'm thinking of home."

"You ain't homesick."

Meredith shook her head. "Just thinking." She ate the roll. "I have to get to the infirmary."

"Can I have the good drugs, Doc?"

Meredith was so used to the question she didn't even acknowledge it. She took her tray to the counter. She'd gotten past her fear of the infirmary and of the demanding patients and the lines between what she could do off-the-books and what she should never do.

Jolene's death hit her hard. There'd been other deaths. Other transports. New rashes and old conditions, HIV shots and pre-natal vitamins.

"It's almost like the outside," she'd told the doctor. "Once I remember they're patients and not--"

"Peers?"

"Yeah." She was glad he'd said peers. Criminals were the furthest thing from her mind.

"I'm sure you have your share of drug-seeking, indigent behavior in the hospital, too, amongst the real emergencies."

"And the thousandth person with the common cold," Meredith said.

"Feeling like death isn't dying. You'd know. So you'll be all ready to go back. When's the parole hearing?"

Meredith hugged herself. "Thursday."

"Natalie coming up?"

"With the kids. She's taking them out of school. I wish she wouldn't."

"Stuff in life more important than school. Almost anything, in fact."

"Says the doctor."

"I blew off a few classes."

"That's reassuring."

"We can't all be perfect, Merry." He squeezed her shoulder. "Your hearing is more important than school. Believe me."

She didn't know what to believe.

#

Ida let them sit on the picnic table, shoulder to shoulder, trying to keep warm in the unreasonably cold early October, as long as they faced her. She sat at a desk doing paperwork. In her warm concrete room.

Meredith squeezed Natalie's hand. "You didn't have to come. I'm seeing you tomorrow."

"Miss the chance to see you?"

Meredith's cheeks were red from the wind.

"I know routine is important," Natalie said.

"In my life. Not in yours."

"Tell me about it. No two days are the same. Heck, no two visits to Burgaw are the same. That place is definitely not like this place. And every day it's something different with the kids. The bus doesn't come. One of them has an earache. Playdates--they have playdates now--with people who have never heard of you."

"Who are these people?"

"New staff at the hospital moved in with their kids, Beau and Merritt's age. They're brown."

Meredith snorted.

"They're teaching Beau manners. He takes off his shoes at the door now."

"All the better not to kick Hollingsworth so hard."

Natalie nodded. She brought Meredith's bare, chapped hand between hers, rubbing to create friction. She glanced at Ida.

Ida wasn't watching.

She pressed.

Meredith bumped her shoulder.

"Want to go over what you're going to say?" Natalie asked.

"I have no idea what I'm going to say."

"Samson will be there. And me."

"Thank you."

"They'll want to know everything. All the stuff you never thought you'd have to say again. That you thought was private. For your therapist."

Meredith closed her eyes.

"I'll be bringing a letter from the hospital."

"For what?"

"For your future gainful employment."

"Right. What will I make? Minimum wage?"

"Well, not as much as a WalMart worker, but more than KFC."

Meredith put her head on Natalie's shoulder. She opened her eyes. Ida was staring right at her. She straightened.

"So, they'll write down everything you say, and Samson says, and the letter, and whatever questions they ask me, and they'll FedEx it to the Commission."

"What questions will they ask you?"

"What kind of home life you'll have. If you'll have a bed, if there's enough to eat. The basics."

"I hope they don't ask you if you're obnoxious."

Natalie grinned. "There are other options."

"Like what?"

"You could go to a halfway house. Or a group home situation. Or go to Wheeler's or a friend's. Or even live on your own."

"You mean, in an apartment? Or I could kick you out?"

"You might not want to kick me out until you transfer back guardianship of your children, but yes."

"I don't want any other options."

"No?"

Meredith curled her fingers around Natalie's. "I want what I've been dreaming of."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"We'll do it."

# #

Chapter Fifty-Three

"Dearest Meredith," Natalie's letter started. Meredith had waited until she was in bed to read. "I can't help but see you everywhere. When I'm arguing with the principal--twice already!--when I'm with Luis, or when I'm just in the kitchen, or when I'm alone at night, as I know you are now, reading this, I can't get you out of my mind. You're my imaginary friend. I realize when you come back it won’t be the same. But this is better than your absence. It's like I'm one step closer to you. Hurry home soon, or I'm going to rob a bank and get myself thrown in Conrad.

All my love, Natalie."

#

His suit made him itch. The unfamiliar wool chafed him. Luis shifted in his seat, hoping to pull the fabric away from his skin.

Natalie glanced at him.

He frowned, trying to hold still. The court room was mostly empty. No spectators bothered to come this time. Not even his father. Just the judge, the prosecutor, and the victim's family.

The victims. He scoffed.

"Ants in your pants?"

Luis wondered if a male attorney would be even more of a jerk.

The judge tapped his gavel, signaling the end of a speeding ticket case, and flipped through his day planner. He glanced at the defendant's table. Luis folded his arms.

"The People v. Luis Duarte?" the judge asked.

"Yes, Your Honor." Natalie stood.

"The entered plea is not guilty. Do you wish to change your plea?"

"No, Your Honor."

"Are we hearing on bail?"

"No, Your Honor."

"Change of venue?" He glanced at Jacob Weinstead first.

"I think we're fine, Your Honor."

"Okay. Opening statements are set for three weeks from Tuesday. Ten o'clock. Any discovery?"

"I think we have everything, your Honor."

"Very well." He reached for his gavel.

"Wait, wait," Luis said. He tugged on Natalie's sleeve. Everything was happening so fast.

"Your Honor, can I have a minute to confer with my client?"

"You can."

Natalie sat down.

"I don't want a trial," Luis said.

"You don't?"

"Why aren't they just letting me go? Isn't that what this hearing is for?"

"That's what the last one was for. Luis, they're not going to let you go."

"It was an accident!"

A murmur went through the courtroom. Probably at the parents. Luis was breathing hard. He thought everyone was on the same page with this. At least, him and Natalie.

"Everyone knows it was an accident," Natalie said. Her voice was calm. She put her hand on his shoulder.

But the exchange he just witnessed belied that. "But--"

"It's just whether or not the accident could have been prevented. That's what the trial sorts out."

Luis rubbed his jaw. "Of course it was. If those bitches hadn't cut me off, then--" He couldn't help his voice from rising.

Natalie clamped down on his arm. "Luis. What's rule number one?"

"Don't speak."

She nodded and squeezed his arm. "Of course it was an accident."

He shrugged.

She glanced at the judge, and then stood. "We're ready, Your Honor. Three weeks on Tuesday is good for us."

The judge banged his gavel.

Despite the weeks in jail, the police reports Natalie showed him, the photographs of the two girls, his car--Despite his days being cotton trousers and card games with gangbangers in for pot and coke--he only now, with the sound of wood slamming into wood, felt his life crashing down around him.

"I don't want a trial," he said, knowing he was almost begging.

Natalie stood at his side, holding onto his shoulder until the spots began to recede from his vision.

#

Meredith woke to pounding at her door, and then it flung open and a horde came through into the tiny cell. She reached for a weapon but of course she had none. She held up
The Boxcar Children
to defend herself from the blows landing on her. Her worst nightmare, every time she was alone in this room, finally realized.

Blows landed. Like rain. Like pillows. And then kisses on her face. Her shoulders. The light was too dim to make out faces but she smelled Siba. And then Robin's distinctive leafiness. Burdette's bleached bone aspects.

Then another nightmare came to her. Maybe this was an orgy. She pushed at them, starting to pray.

"It's your last day," Burdette said against her ear.

She'd been so close. The parole granted, strings pulled, all set.

Jacqui, standing near the doorway, laughed. "So we got you a cake."

Meredith lowered the book. She tried a small smile.

In the dimness, five women smiled back.

"A cake?"

"What are you going to do when you get out of here, Merry?"

"She's going to buy a better Bible."

"I'm never going to turn back," she said.

Burdette snorted. "Good for you."

# #

Chapter Fifty-Four

Meredith did look back, peering at the prison buildings rising above the fence. Natalie leaned against the station wagon, waiting for her. Meredith took a moment. She needed this space and distance from prison to car. She gazed up at the sky.

The sun beat down.

Natalie was the destination. She took another step. She felt lighter. She suddenly wanted to run. She wanted to cry.

She shifted her bundle in her arms and walked swiftly, grinning so much her face hurt. Natalie opened the backseat and Meredith tossed in her stuff, and then turned to Natalie. A foot separated them.

"Do you want to drive?" Natalie held up the car keys.

"Do I want?"

"Do you want to drive?"

Meredith smiled. "Yes. Yes, I do." She hugged Natalie. "I want everything," she said, as Natalie encircled her waist.

"Okay."

"Natalie." Meredith squeezed her tighter. "You smell good."

"It's cinnamon."

Meredith buried her nose in Natalie's neck.

"I stopped and got cider. And stuff. On the way up."

"Natalie." Meredith loosened her grip. "I want to drive."

"Yup."

Meredith stepped back and Natalie opened the driver's side door and then leaned over the door as Meredith settled in. "And," Meredith said.

Natalie raised her eyebrows.

"I'm never kissing you in front of a prison again."

#

Meredith pulled into her own driveway. She stared at her house. Natalie didn't move. She'd been quiet and tense most of the drive and Meredith didn't question her. She'd had a lot to process and was glad to be left alone with her thoughts.

Remembering how to drive took up her first half hour of concentration. Then it was autumn leaves and open highway all the way down until Goldsboro. Then it was shaded groves and stoplights.

Meredith stared.

A red late-model Camry was in the driveway. "Whose car?"

"Daniel's. He picked the kids up from school today. They're inside. He won't be staying."

"He can."

"But he's not."

Meredith turned off the car. "I'm nervous."

"I understand."

Meredith unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to face Natalie. "Can you, uh."

Natalie met her eyes, unbuckling her seatbelt, too.

"Can you... closer..."

Natalie leaned closer.

"Kiss me?" Meredith asked.

Natalie nodded.

Meredith covered the remaining distance and kissed waiting lips. She closed her eyes. Natalie's mouth dragged across hers, and then puckered to kiss the corner of her mouth.

"Thank you," Meredith said.

"Want to go inside?"