Page 399 of The First Time
Chapter Thirty-Five
Meryl sends us to lunch at a nearby restaurant, insisting she needs the time to visit with her lawyer alone.
Fiona excuses herself and disappears in her car.
Blake and I eat at a nearby chain restaurant. Honestly, I don't taste a thing. I'm not even sure what I'm eating.
We walk back home hand in hand. Blake squeezes my fingers until they're white.
I study his expression, but it doesn't help me put anything together. It never does.
At home, Meryl is sipping coffee on the couch with Fiona.
She mutters something about not wasting away in her bed. We all pretend like she didn't remind us she's dying.
We pass the afternoon with coffee and cake, reminiscing about easier times.
Meryl brings up every embarrassing moment from Blake and Fiona's childhoods. The room gets bright with laughter.
The sun sets. We order pizza. I taste everything. The tangy tomatoes, the gooey cheese, the crisp crust. Perfect New York pizza. And rich red wine to go with it.
Meryl waves her night nurse away, asking him to wait in the den. She rearranges the chess pieces.
"Fancy losing to your mother?" she asks Blake.
"No, but I could stand to destroy her," he teases.
"I'll give you a fighting chance and take black."
Blake laughs.
It still makes me warm.
Blake is happy.
And there's love all around us. It's beautiful. Sweet.
Meryl wins every game. We stay at that table, talking and laughing until the wee hours of the morning. Even Fiona is nice to me. No sign she still wants to get rid of me.
Meryl hugs me goodnight. "Whatever happens, honey, it's been great getting to know you."
* * *
I knowshe's gone the minute I wake up. There's something different in the air—an ugly stillness.
I throw off the comforter and rush into the hallway. Blake and Fiona are sitting at the kitchen table. She's crying into her coffee cup, and he's comforting her.
I squeeze the railing. "Is she… did she?"
Blake looks up at me. He nods. "She died around five this morning."
My stomach twists. I scratch at the railing. Tiny flakes of wood peel off under my fingernails.
Meryl is gone.
I force myself to breathe. It's not as hard as I thought it would be. She was happy. She was at peace.
And, whatever happens, it was great getting to know her.
It really is going to be okay.
