Engaged? Dating? James Piper—rich guy from her social circle obsessed with keeping up appearances.
In love with Nate. Saw him when possible. He liked talking about their future together, but she never committed to anything because it went against “what they expected” of her.
Something bad happened to her, him, or both. If there were a happy ending, there wouldn’t be any need to correct the mistakes of the past now.
“You finished?” I ask Nathan once he puts down his pen.
“Yeah,” he says. “What did you get?”
“Just facts really,” I say. “Nothing earth-shattering or insightful. I thought I’d just get the basics out first and then maybe expand from there into thoughts and feelings.” I read off my list. “How about you? What did you get?”
“Similar to yours,” Nathan says. “I listed a bunch of facts. Irish, worked the railroad before joining the Paradise Shores kitchen staff, in love with Mercy, upset she wouldn’t run off with him, they had an epic fight, something bad happened.”
“Nate wanted Mercy to elope?” I glance down at my paper to see if I wrote that too but skipped it in the read-through. I know it’s true, even though it’s not on my list. “Do you think it didn’t happen?”
“If they had a happy ending, we wouldn’t be making lists about people who died over a hundred years ago or have two psychic strangers tell us we need to ‘correct’ the mistakes of the past.” Nathan scribbles something onto his paper.
“What did you write?” I ask.
“Jealous of Mercy’s boyfriend.” He grins. “Before you say anything, I know, I know. It’s something I need to work on this time around too. See? Another pattern repeating itself.”
“Maybe that’s the biggest lesson of all to take from all this self-discovery,” I say. “We need to recognize the soul-patterns and work to fix them. Some of Mercy’s, which I’ve picked up, are thinking with her head instead of her heart and doing what other people expect instead of what she wants.”
“Like dating Jay?” Nathan’s voice holds the same edge of jealousy that’s easy to spot in Jay’s tone whenever Nathan is mentioned.
“Don’t even get me started on the whole dating-Jay thing,” I warn. “When we’re alone, he’s not the jerk you seem to think he is. He’s jealous, too, and scared. Cut him some slack, will ya?”
“But if we’re looking for patterns to fix or change, that’s the biggest one of all.” Nathan leans forward in his chair, blue eyes intense. “You’re repeating Mercy and James. He was who society deemed ‘appropriate,’ so she tolerated him just like you tolerate Jay.”
“Don’t act like you know my feelings.” I close my notebook and contemplate throwing it at him before changing my mind and throwing it on the floor instead. It still makes a satisfying slapping sound, which lessens some of my building anger. “I don’t know how Mercy felt about James, but I know I don’t just tolerate Jay. There’s a goodness in him. A kindness. He’s helped me through some of the roughest times of my life.”
“So, you think you owe him something?” Nathan isn’t letting go of his Nate-colored-glasses version of my life. “I don’t care who he is or what he’s done in the past. Just from what I’ve seen now, Meredith, I think you’d be happier without him.”
“You think I’d be happier with you, you mean?” I accuse. “Typical male. Thinking all the problems of the world can be fixed by jumping from one guy to another. If you were in Jay’s place, you wouldn’t be pushing me to break it off. If you were in Jay’s place, you’d be telling me to stay as far away from you as possible.”
“If I were in Jay’s place, I wouldn’t treat you like he does.”
“You haven’t known me that long. What gives you the right to say something like that?”
“It wouldn’t matter if we knew each other for two years, two weeks, or two days, Meredith, because our souls recognize each other. You can try to rationalize it and explain it away with science and facts and figures, but it’s true. You know it’s true.”
Nathan’s suddenly kneeling in front of me. He puts his hands on either side of my face and looks up at me with such an earnest—such a Nate—expression that my body sways toward him. I can’t help it. It feels like an invisible cord is pulling me.
“You feel it. I know you feel it,” Nathan whispers. “If you don’t, what’s the point of remembering?”
“I feel it,” I murmur. “I feel it. Oh, Nathan, what are we going to do?”
A shock of images floods my mind as our lips meet. Mercy and Nate laughing as they dance in the rain to music only they can hear. Nate stealing a kiss behind the safety of Mercy’s parasol. Mercy and Nate lounging in each other’s arms in a hotel-owned sailboat with no destination in mind—just content to be together. There’s a calmness—a sureness—when they’re together that I hope to find someday. But with who?
Would that sureness be with Nathan or Jay?
I don’t remember when we stop kissing and just lie side by side on my bed, Nathan’s arms around me and my head resting on his chest. I close my eyes and listen to his deep, even breathing. I know I should feel guilty a million times over for a million different things—breaking curfew rules, kissing someone else while committed to Jay—but none of that seems to bother me while I’m wrapped in Nathan’s arms.
“I could stay like this forever,” I murmur.
“You won’t hear any arguments from me,” Nathan says. “Meredith, I will probably spoil everything; I do that with the whole open-mouth, insert-foot thing, but we need to talk about this. We need to talk about us.”
I squeeze my eyes shut tight, wanting to avoid any discussions for as long as possible. “Can’t we just let it go for a while? Why do we always have to talk right away?” I sit up and put some space between us. “I don’t want to talk. Just let it be.”
Nathan sits up too. “We’re running in circles, Meredith. Maybe not you and me for all that long, but Nate and Mercy were, and we’re repeating their mistakes. Do you want to just let that be?”
“No, but that’s not something we can do alone. We need to go back to Open Closed Doors. I don’t know about you, but I have more questions now than when we started.”
Nathan reaches for my hand, but I pull away. “Don’t do this, Meredith.” His voice is low, almost coaxing, but I do my best to ignore the pleading. “Don’t go back into your box after you’ve tasted freedom.”
“Let me make my own decisions, Nathan. That’s part of what freedom is.” I stand and move to the door before opening it. I stick my head out to check if the hall is all clear. I’m surprised more people don’t sneak around after curfew. Maybe the wrath of Dad is more powerful than I think.
“So, what now?” Nathan asks as he slips into the hallway undetected.
“You call Catalina and set up appointments,” I decide. “Jay already said he wants nothing more to do with this, so asking him to come along or borrowing his car to get downtown is out. We must go to plan B.”