I consider calling Nolan, if only to warn him, but worry that might make things worse—that we’ll look even more conspiratorial. In fact, I have the feeling Meredith is more upset by the fact that we kept this secret than by what actually happened on that night. I try to imagine how I would feel if I suddenly learned that she and Gabe had been keeping a big secret from me. I can’t deny how much it would hurt—and Gabe and I aren’t even married.
Then again, what if they were only trying to protect me? Would I give them a pass if that were the case? I tell myself I absolutely would, and nearly awaken Meredith to make this point. After all, wasn’t she the one who suggested we not share details of our Sophie dinner with Mom? And wasn’t that because she believes the information would only upset her? Isn’t that what you do when you love someone? I start to work up some righteous indignation, but can’t fully sell myself on the idea. Deep down, I know there’s a difference between withholding information about our time with Sophie tonight and lying, even by omission, about the night Daniel died. There is simply no denying that I’m in the wrong.
At some point I doze off. When I awaken, it’s still dark outside, just after four o’clock. I decide I have to leave—that I can’t face my sister in the morning. So I slip into Ellen’s darkened bedroom, where Meredith is softly snoring, and I gather my things, shoving them haphazardly into my suitcase. As I turn to go, I remember the gift I brought for Meredith. Using the flashlight on my phone, I rifle through my bag and find the brand-new, bright-eyed Rabby replacement, its fur still pristine and fluffy. I put it next to her pillow, then whisper goodbye to my sister, somehow understanding that this fight is different from all the others we’ve had. Although I hope I’m wrong, this one feels final.
A few minutes later, I am in the back of a cab on the way to La Guardia. There is no traffic, and we get there in record time. I pay my fare, then walk into the empty airport. A friendly lady at the Delta check-in counter reassures me that there are plenty of open seats on the 6:00 A.M. flight to Atlanta, and she feels sure I’ll get one on standby. “Good luck, dear,” she says, giving me a look of pity, probably assuming that anyone who shows up at the airport hours before their scheduled flight is leaving under less than stellar circumstances.
After I make it through security, I head for the restroom, where I brush my teeth and wash my face. Calculating that I have over an hour until they start boarding that first flight to Atlanta, I head to the gate and curl up in a corner. My last thought as I pass out from exhaustion is how disgusting Meredith would think it to sit, let alone sleep, on the airport floor.
I wake up with a whiskey headache, burning eyes, and a stiff neck, but feel a rush of relief when my name is called for the very last standby seat. I take it as an omen, a sign that things can only get better from here.
chapter thirty
MEREDITH
They say you should never go to bed mad, but when it came to my fights with Josie, Mom always enforced the opposite. She’d send us to our respective rooms, insisting that we “get some sleep” because “things always look better in the morning.” It was actually pretty sound advice, as we usually woke up and simply pretended that nothing had happened (before finding something new to argue about, of course). Occasionally, we’d even laugh it all off, aligning ourselves against Mom and painting her as an overreactor.