Page 21 of Merry Me
My eyes locked with Natalie’s grandmother, MeMaw, and I winced. Her eyes had taken on a glint that was half bat-crazy and half furious. I knew what that was all about. I’d come over the day after Nat had broken up with me, and MeMaw had met me at the front door.
I was on her porch before the sun had fully risen,still wearing the same hoodie from the night before.My hands felt clammy,and my heart pounded like it was in my throat.I’d been up all night,going over all the words I was going to say to change her mind.
I raised my fist to knock,but before my knuckles hit the door,it flew open.MeMaw stood there,dressed in some kind of oversized sweatshirt with a glitteryHot Girl Shitwinking from the front,and large hoop earrings that jingled when she moved. She squinted at me from beneath her red glasses like she’d caught me trying to steal the family silver.
“Easton Maddox,”she said,her southern drawl as sharp as a whip. “What on God’s green earth are you doing skulking around my granddaughter’s porch at this hour?”
“I need to talk to her,”I said,trying to push past her,but MeMaw stepped squarely in my path.For someone so small,she had the stance of a linebacker.
“She doesn’t want to talk to you right now,sugar,”she said, crossing her arms and tilting her head like she had all the time in the world. “But I do.Take a walk with me.”
I didn’t have a choice.MeMaw had that way about her—like she’d already decided what you were going to do before you did it.She grabbed her coat and stepped out onto the porch,nodding toward the dirt road that led toward the woods.
We walked in silence for a few minutes,her pace unhurried,mine stiff with nerves.My chest felt like it was caving in,and I wanted to break the quiet,to plead my case.
But MeMaw spoke first. “You love her, don’t you?”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. “Of course I do,”I said, my voice breaking. “I’ve loved her since the second I saw her.”
MeMaw stopped and turned to face me,her bright red glasses catching the light. “I believe you,darlin’.But sometimes loving someone means letting them fly.”
“She doesn’t want to fly,”I said,my frustration boiling over. “She’s just scared.”
“Maybe,”MeMaw said,her voice softer now. “But Natalie’s likeme.She’s got a free spirit.You try to cage that,and it’ll break her.”She put a hand on my arm,her grip surprisingly strong.“This first year of college?She needs to figure out who she is without wondering what you’re doing or feeling like she’s letting you down or holding you back.”
“She could never hold me back,”I protested,feeling the ache of my own words.
“I know you think that,”MeMaw said,her eyes studying me like she could see every corner of my soul. “But it doesn’t matter what you think,sugar. It’s what she feels.And right now,she feels like she needs space.”
I swallowed hard,the lump in my throat threatening to choke me. “What if she never comes back?”
MeMaw smiled then,a small,knowing smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “If she’s yours,she’ll find her way back.And if she doesn’t…well,you’ll just have to come get her,won’t you?”
The words cut deeper than I wanted to admit.I hated her logic,hated that it made sense,but more than anything,I hated the idea of letting Natalie go.
MeMaw patted my arm and started walking again. “Now go home,Easton.Focus on your movie and let her focus on herself.She’s got to fly,and you’ve got to let her.”
I didn’t go back to her porch that day.I didn’t beg or plead or try to change her mind.But as I walked back to my car,a hollow ache settled in my chest,and I knew something had shifted.
Because MeMaw was right.I couldn’t cage Natalie.But that didn’t stop me from hoping she’d fly right back to me.
And if not,I’d just have to convince her that a life with me was better than anything she could find out there.
I snapped back to the present, deliberately keeping my gaze away from MeMaw’s disapproving stare. Evidently, her idea of letting Natalie fly free andmyidea of what that meant had been different.
But it was okay. I was here to remedy it all now.
Everyone started talking about the wedding, and I should’vebeen paying attention. But my attention kept slipping, pulling toward the window.
Toward her.
I could imagine how she looked sitting in that treehouse. Her legs dangling through the hatch, her hair catching the soft glow of the fading sunlight. She was up there, probably freaking out, probably fuming about me being here.
Fuck, just being near her, knowing she was close, it was like I could finally fucking breathe again. For almost two years, I’d been suffocating, drowning under the weight of missing her. And now she was here, and I wanted to crawl through that window, up that damn tree, and tell her everything I hadn’t been able to say back then.
But I couldn’t. Not yet.
So instead, I stood there in the kitchen, pretending to care about whatever Levi was talking about, pretending I wasn’t shaking with the effort it took to keep myself in check.
