Meredith With the Waves: The Meredith Series, #4

By Amanda Gale

The Meredith Series books are best enjoyed in order. Please start with Meredith Out of the Darkness, Book One in the series, to begin Meredith's journey!

Having pushed herself up after heartache and loss, Meredith can hardly believe how fortunate she is to finally have the perfect life she dreamed of. Nestled into a peaceful existence with the love of her life, she looks forward to a future full of meaning and purpose. She's so grateful for her newfound happiness that she easily finds the strength to meet fresh challenges—building a new career, caring for her ailing father-in-law, and longing for her husband, whose work takes him far from home. It's clear to her that true growth lies not in the absence of adversity but in how she faces it.

But life has a way of testing even the strongest resolve. Increasing tension with her demanding parents, the emotional toll of a high-risk pregnancy, and the challenges of new motherhood all force her to face the full weight of her past insecurities. And sudden upheaval in her husband's job makes true partnership and understanding that much more urgent.

Each hurdle forces her to confront her deepest fears and to finally grapple with the lessons life's been trying to teach her, pushing her to embrace the imperfections in her family, her life, herself.

Meredith With the Waves is a poignant exploration of resilience, acceptance, and the complexities of human relationships. The final installment of the Meredith series is about the power of facing obstacles with courage and grace—and about how life's uncertainties hold the key to unlocking our inner strength and to understanding the true essence of happiness.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amanda Gale
• Release date: Aug 10, 2022
• ISBN: 9798227511591

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

ANOTHER CHANCE

Meredith was seated at the dining room table, a cup of tea before her. Her fingers limply gripped the handle; she hadn’t lifted it to her lips in several minutes. She was motionless, her eyes looking at nothing, her focus directed inward. It was a position she had favored for the last twenty-four hours, since she arrived Sunday afternoon.

She couldn’t stop reliving her parents’ reaction to the news that she was calling off her wedding. Whereas Harold had reprimanded her, exclaiming that he had not expected anything else from Shane Thayer and that Meredith had put them through hell for nothing, Patricia had resorted to the cold shoulder, saying no more than what was absolutely necessary. Meredith wasn’t sure which was worse, her father’s anger or her mother’s passive aggressive silence. She almost preferred her father’s honesty. Her mother’s quiet, subtle disappointment made her nervous, for she never knew what she was thinking. She had had enough uncertainty to last a lifetime.

Now that she was back home, Meredith felt as if she had never left, once again living there alone as her parents traveled. Currently they were taking advantage of their proximity to Washington by visiting friends and social contacts; they would return after one week, and Meredith was dreading it. She felt all the disapproval and coldness from her parents as she always had as a girl, only this time she felt foolish, as well, a grown woman who had nowhere else to turn, whose life was in such shambles that she had been forced to beg sympathy from the parents she had humiliated, simply so she would have a roof over her head.

Since coming home, Meredith had taken to her old room and had not emerged until well after the sun rose Monday morning. She had found some comfort in that room, the room to which she had retreated as a little girl. Now it also had the added memory of Nick, and Sunday night she had lain almost blissfully under the covers knowing he had slept on these sheets, albeit well over a year before. She could feel his presence in this room, and it brought her some happiness. He was almost like a ghost now, a memory always lingering in the back of her mind, something elusive that she yet could not escape. She felt that, like Adam, he was watching her, wishing her well, even though he could not be with her. She wondered what Adam would think if he knew, whether he would be sad for her or whether he too would wonder how she could have made such poor decisions.

Meredith now felt as if she had hit her low. She had been through the fire once again and had gained nothing in all this time. She didn’t know how her experiences could have made her less wise. All she knew was that she felt lost, ignorant, and frightened. She was incapable of making her own decisions. Maybe Wes had been right all along.

She thought about the letter she had written to Wes. Part of her had hoped that he would have called her after reading it, but she understood why he would not. She was curious to know whether he would come for her, but she would not wait forever. If he came for her, she would be delighted, but if he didn’t, she would move on and make her own way.

She thought about how easy it would be to go back to Wes, to let him make her decisions, to alleviate the burden she now felt having no direction. Now she truly was free to be with him. She had lost her job and was about to lose her house. What was stopping her from going back to him? Wes had a house and a plan for her, and he loved her. He would never hurt her, never cheat on her and never lie to her. It took every bit of restraint for her to refrain from calling him and begging him to take her back on his terms, to forget what she had said in her letter and just save her, give her everything he wanted to give her. She knew how much this life would please him, and she wanted to please him. She wanted to make him happy. She knew it would make her happy, as well.

But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She had sacrificed herself too many times, had just last weekend learned the dangers of settling. When she had begun her relationship with Shane, her goal was to avoid being hurt. Now she had a new goal. She would not submit, nor would she settle. She was tired of having no control. If she was alone for the rest of her life, at least she would be making that decision on her own and would have only herself to blame, only herself to thank for her successes.

She had believed making a bold decision would alleviate the suspense, that having a clear vision of what her life would look like was more important than what that life actually was. She couldn’t believe how wrong she had been.

In the meantime, she had to come up with a plan. She knew she couldn’t stay with her parents for long. The problem was that she was completely numb. She didn’t trust herself to make any decisions, and she was so tired—of losing people, of trying to predict the future, of figuring out what she wanted. Anyway, it always ended in disappointment. What was the point of doing anything at all?

She sighed and rubbed her face in her hands. She looked around the room and remembered how she used to make eyes with Nick across the table, and shook her head in an effort to forget. She stood, taking the cup in her hand and bringing it to the kitchen. Then she went back upstairs to her room to lie down. She was exhausted.

Meredith slept through the rest of the evening and into Tuesday. Upon waking, she glanced at her phone. She had received several calls and texts from well-meaning friends—Henry, Katrina, Scott, and Tara. Meredith still felt as if she were lost in a storm, but the knowledge that she had kind people thinking of her gave her comfort.

The one person she had been disappointed to not hear from was Vince. Of all people, he would know the pain she must be feeling under the critical eyes of her parents. She knew he loved her, but with bitterness she recalled how he had failed to support her after Adam’s death. She had accepted it before and would accept it again.

Her phone vibrated. It was a text from Tara asking her to join them for lunch. Meredith texted her back, telling her she would be there. She didn’t feel like going out, but she didn’t have the energy to argue.

She forced herself out of bed and into the shower, realizing with horror that she hadn’t showered since the day of her wedding. She hadn’t even thought about it.

She slid into old jeans and a t-shirt, grabbed her keys and phone, and drove the few miles to Tara’s house. Within ten minutes she was sitting at Tara’s kitchen table with Tara, Evelyn, and Ginger. She pushed food around on her plate and took small bites only at Tara’s gentle prodding. She held back her tears for the benefit of the girls; she didn’t want them to see her cry.

After lunch they decided to go for a walk. Tara drew Meredith upstairs while she changed Ginger and helped Evelyn put on her shoes. Meredith sank onto Evelyn’s bed as the little girls played on the floor, Tara searching through the dresser for suitable clothing.

Meredith looked around the room. It was delightfully innocent in its prettiness. Everything about it suggested the wide-eyed joy of a child just discovering fairies and princesses. The walls were pink, as were the rug and all the linens. Nearly everything else was purple, the curtains, the picture frames, and the lamp that sat on the white dresser. Dolls and tiny dresses lay everywhere. Stickers stuck haphazardly on the walls where the girls had placed them. In the corner, a tiny green table with two matching chairs lay covered with books about royal weddings and toys that come alive. Meredith was simultaneously charmed and depressed. It was hard not to feel happy in this room. But she couldn’t put out of her mind the fact that one day Evelyn and Ginger, too, would learn that their lives wouldn’t be as perfect as those of the princesses in their fairy tales. The princes who came to rescue them would be just as scared and lost as they were, and would make them cry. Meredith sighed as she remembered a time when she was as innocent as these beautiful little girls.

Okay, Ginger—come to Mama, Tara was saying as she chased the little girl around the room. Ginger thought it was a game, and she laughed as she eluded her mother. Come here, you little pixie, Tara said as she grabbed her daughter by the back of her overalls and laid her on the floor.

Meredith watched with wonder. You make it look so easy, she said. Tell me how you did it.

Tara looked at her. Did what?

This, Meredith said, and held her hands out, indicating the room, the house, the life Tara was leading. How did you find the perfect life?

Perfection is a crock, Tara said, struggling to hold her daughter’s kicking feet. If you think my life is perfect, you’re out of your mind.

You know what I mean, said Meredith, her eyes on the mundane scene before her. You’re happy, right? You have what you wanted, right?

Yes, but not everyone wants this, said Tara. The question is, what do you want?

I want to know what I want, Meredith responded, laying her head on Evelyn’s pillow. And I don’t want to get hurt again.

I have news for you, said Tara, picking Ginger up off the floor, having accomplished her task. You’re going to get hurt. That’s the world. Even the perfect life has its pain, Merry. You can’t avoid it.

Where is your pain? You’re not in any pain.

Tara put Ginger down and stared incredulously at Meredith. You think I don’t have any pain? You think Tom and I never fight, that I never cry myself to sleep? She shook her head and went to the dresser again, where she withdrew socks for Evelyn. You think I don’t feel like banging my head against the wall sometimes, being in this house with two screaming kids all day? I gave up a career to do this, Merry. It isn’t like I’ve got everything I ever wanted.

I know. Meredith watched as Tara picked some clothes up from the floor and threw them into a laundry hamper. But you wouldn’t change anything, is the point.

No, the point is that it’s a give and take. You can’t have it all. You have to decide what works for you and what you’re willing to give up.

Meredith thought about this for a moment, and was silent.

It’s just like you and Wes, Tara continued, changing Evelyn’s socks as Evelyn flipped through a book at the little green table. You could have been happy with Wes, in some ways. But you couldn’t give up the freedom of making your own decisions. If you had been willing to do that, your life would have been perfect. It’s all relative.

Meredith closed her eyes, Tara’s voice reaching her from the other side of the light.

Or take Nick, Tara said, now going to the closet and removing a pair of little pink shoes. You could probably call him right now and tell him you didn’t get married, and he’d be standing at your door before you could blink. But you’re too afraid of the fact that he left you once. You think he won’t fight for you. You don’t want to sacrifice the security.

Meredith nodded, letting it all sink in.

But you know what, Merry, Tara said then, and went to the bed, kneeling beside her friend and taking her hand. It’s worth the risk, if it’s what you want. We all have to make sacrifices. There’s no such thing as perfect.

Meredith opened her eyes and looked at Tara. Finally she let the tears consume her.

It was perfect with Adam, she whispered, holding back a sob.

Honey, Tara said kindly, squeezing her hand. It wasn’t perfect with him either. You just think it was because he’s no longer here and because you were younger and didn’t know better.

Meredith couldn’t hold back; she gasped with tears, covering her face with her hand.

Tara brushed Meredith’s hair from her forehead with tender, loving fingers. I don’t blame you for thinking of him as perfect, she went on, softer now, so the girls couldn’t hear. It’s only natural. You don’t remember the little things, the everyday life things that used to get under your skin. But I do. Remember the arguments you used to have over whether to buy a car while you were living in the city? Or the time he almost set your apartment on fire trying to fix a broken oven? Tara waited a moment while Meredith sniffled. She smiled ruefully. It wasn’t perfect. But it was perfect for what it was.

Meredith took a deep breath in and made herself feel present as she let it flow out. She nodded, trying to believe what Tara was telling her.

Tara wiped a tear as it drifted from Meredith’s cheek toward the pillow. That’s how it goes. We accept the imperfections when it’s important enough. Hell, the imperfections make it better. They make it human. And Merry.

Meredith reluctantly looked at her friend, not caring that she did so with red, watery eyes.

Tara’s voice turned even more gentle. I don’t think it’s intentional, but I think you use him as a defense. But he wasn’t perfect, Merry. Nothing is. And you don’t have to be, either.

Meredith turned her face up toward the ceiling and stared at a princess mobile dangling above her. The tears rolled from the corners of her eyes to the sides of her face, and onto the fluffy pink pillow beneath her head. Watching her, Evelyn lifted her head and stood, then removed a wooden music box from her dresser and hopped onto her bed, sitting cross-legged by Meredith’s side. Meredith raised her head, wiped her tears, and looked at the little girl.

Hi, Evelyn, she said brightly, trying to act as if everything were fine. You have your music box. I haven’t seen it in a long time. Do you remember when I gave it to you?

It was my birthday, Evelyn said. Here. Listen.

She opened the music box. The miniature ballerina was still standing in frozen motion, her hand raised and her leg stuck gracefully out behind her. As the lid was lifted the melody began, and the ballerina twirled and glided in her eternal dance.

She loves that music box, Tara said. She sits there with it almost every day. She keeps asking me to tell her the words to the song, but I don’t even know what song it is.

Meredith brought her fingers to the music box and lightly brushed the side. When she bought this box, she was beginning a new life, though she hadn’t known it, at least not consciously. That life was supposed to bring her far away from here, and yet, here she still was. It had been a peaceful, thoughtful day, one that had ended in unexpected comfort and bliss. So much had happened since. How long ago that day seemed.

Aunt Merry, why are you so sad? Evelyn asked.

Meredith looked at her and smiled. I’m sad because I was supposed to get married, but I didn’t.

Mommy says you didn’t get married because you’re strong, said the little girl.

That’s right, said Tara. A man wanted to marry Aunt Merry. But Aunt Merry knew he wasn’t the man she should marry, so she said no. She looked at Meredith knowingly, and Meredith had to laugh.

Are you ever going to get married? asked Evelyn.

Meredith’s smile sobered. I don’t know, she said. Maybe I will, and maybe I won’t. But whatever happens, I know I’ll be happy because I’ll have friends I love, like you.

They sat there for a minute or two, listening to the music and watching the ballerina as she spun in a line.

Meredith heard footsteps in the hallway, and before she knew it, Tom was standing at the door.

Hi, Merry, he said. His expression was friendly and full of sympathy. Good to see you.

It’s good to see you too, Tom, said Meredith, rising to a sitting position. I didn’t know you were here.

I took the week off. I figured I’d might as well take my vacation now, seeing as we were away last weekend.

Meredith nodded, thinking of how many other people had rearranged their schedules and driven long distances to take part in a wedding that never happened.

Ah, the music box, he said as he watched Evelyn imitate the dancer with her arms. She loves that thing. I always thought it was perfect that you gave it to her.

What do you mean?

Tom took a few steps farther and leaned against the doorframe, and stuck his hands in his pockets. He smiled at Meredith. I guess she reminds me of you. The ballerina, that is.

Meredith smiled too. How so?

Well, no matter how many times you close the lid on her, she always gets right back up. She never gets tired. She never stops dancing.

That’s very deep, Tom, Tara said, and giggled. I didn’t know I was married to a poet.

Meredith’s eyes had softened. That’s kind of you, Tom. Really. She frowned. But she’s also alone. She’s dancing by herself, to the same unknown song, over and over. She never seems to learn any new steps.

But, said Tom, holding up his index finger, she’s not alone at all. We keep lifting that lid to check on her. We’re all watching her now, aren’t we?

Tara smiled and looked at Meredith with tears in her eyes.

I love it, Meredith said. She was frowning, but her eyes sparkled. That’s a wonderful thing to say. Thank you.

Tara placed her hand on Meredith’s knee, her face more serious now. You just keep on dancing, honey. It’s a beautiful song, your song. Just keep on dancing.

They were silent.

Well, Meredith said then, and swung her legs over the side of the bed, I think I’m going to go home.

What? I thought we were going for a walk.

I’m kind of tired. I think I need to lie down.

Honey, please take a walk with us. It’ll do you good.

I’ll tell you what. Meredith stood, then bent over to kiss Tara on the top of her head. Let me go home now, and I’ll come back for dinner later. Okay?

Tara stood too. Well, I’m not happy about it, but I guess it’s a fair compromise. She hugged Meredith and squeezed hard. I love you. I’ll see you later.

Meredith kissed the girls and went home.

Back at the house, Meredith regretted her decision. It was a beautiful day, the sky cloudless and blue. Inside, she felt oppressed by the all too familiar objects of her childhood. She began ascending the staircase toward her room but decided better of it, instead choosing to go for a walk after all.

She strolled at a leisurely pace to the park, her eyes cast downward, focusing on the movement of her feet. The park was quiet. Two mothers pushed their babies in strollers along the path, and one young family chased a toddler as he teetered around the playground. Meredith sat in a swing and closed her eyes, enjoying the breeze that tossed her hair. She smiled as the young family scampered by her, then grew weary and stood to head home.

She walked as she had before, with her head down and her hands in her pockets, her thoughts directed inward. She had let her mind wander and turned onto her street absentmindedly, shuffling her feet against the ground and growing lulled by the sound.

As she approached her house, she registered the sound of a car door closing some feet ahead of her. A voice called to her, drawing her from her thoughtfulness.

Merry.

She knew the voice. She stopped short, but she didn’t dare look up. Her heart pounding, she imagined what it would feel like to look up and actually find him standing there. She blinked, indulging in a moment of hope; then, steeling herself for disappointment, she opened her eyes and cautiously lifted her gaze.

It can’t be true, she told herself, even as warm relief flooded her chest. A sob erupted from her, and she covered her face with her hands.

She didn’t hear him approach, but suddenly she was in his arms, and he held her as she wept, rubbing her back and smoothing her hair.

Pulling back, she dried her eyes with her hands, then looked at him. His long lips were pulled into a wide grin, and his eyes were crinkled kindly in the corners.

Oh, Nick, I missed you, she sighed, her voice breaking. She brought her hands to his face and pulled him in for a hundred kisses.

I missed you too, Merry, he said, closing his eyes as her lips pressed to his. He opened his eyes and brushed her face with his fingers. I’m so sorry I left. I hope you can forgive me.

There’s nothing to forgive. You’re here now. That’s all that matters.

I love you, Merry.

I love you.

The tears overcame her once more, and he pulled her close. They held each other for many moments before parting just enough to speak again.

I think I drove a hundred miles an hour the whole way down here, he said, and glanced back at the white truck that sat parked in front of her house. Once I made up my mind to do it, I couldn’t wait another second. He gently smoothed her hair back from her face and smiled. You look even more beautiful than I remembered.

She forced the words out, though the tears threatened to choke her. I missed you so much. Not a day went by when I didn’t think of you. Even when I loved someone else, she said, and looked at him with sad honesty. I always loved you, Nick.

I know, he whispered. Me too.

They studied each other, each reflecting on the daily torment of their separation, remembering the many ways they had sought to alleviate the pain.

Oh, Merry, I’m sorry I left you. I only wanted to do what was right. But every day we were apart was torture. His hands lovingly rubbed her shoulders. We’ve lost over a year we could have spent together. I’ll never forgive myself for putting us through that.

Please, she begged. Let’s put it behind us. Let’s just be together without worrying about the past, and focus on the future.

His expression turned serious. I do want to focus on the future, Merry. Which is why I want to give you this.

He reached inside his pocket. When his hand reemerged, his fingers were clasping a ring.

Oh, she gasped, and brought her hand to her face. He took her other hand and squeezed it, then looked at her earnestly.

I love you, he said. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved. Forget what I said about sacrifices, forget everything. There’s nothing more I want than to be with you. He frowned, then swallowed. Will you marry me, Merry? I know it’s been a long time, but⁠—

Yes, she said, and laughed, her heart so full she thought it would burst. Nick, that’s all I’ve ever wanted.

His hands found her back, and he pulled her close. She rubbed her cheek against his, and he kissed her forehead.

He brought his arms back and took her hand in his. For the first time Meredith took a close look at the ring. Her eyes widened with shock, and she inhaled sharply.

It’s my grandmother’s ring, she breathed as he slid it onto her finger. She held her hand out to see how it looked. It was perfect.

She looked up at him with amazement. Where did you get this?

Nick’s eyes were warm and bright. His brow furrowed as he studied her, taking her in after a year of seeing her only in his mind. Vince gave it to me, he said, one hand on her shoulder, the other tenderly neatening her hair behind her ear.

Meredith stared at him, her eyes becoming misty once more. Vince gave it to you? she repeated, trying to absorb the idea. When?

Yesterday, Nick told her, now sliding his hands up and down her waist, his eyes darkening and his lips straightening.

She was beginning to lose control of her breath; her heartbeat had quickened, and she felt her knees weaken. She began lifting her chin toward his, seeking a kiss. Wait a minute, she said, pulling away and looking at him. How did you know to come down here? How did you know I didn’t get married?

Vince called me. He told me he had just seen you, that you had called off your wedding and that if I still loved you I should come back for you, because he thought you’d still have me.

Meredith felt warm tears slide down her cheeks as she imagined this phone call.

Nick continued, I told him I still loved you and that I wanted to marry you. He said he had a ring and that I should pick it up on my way down to see you.

It was more than she could bear. She buried her face in her hands and wept, and as she did he pulled her to his chest and kissed the top of her head, brushing his lips over her hair.

She sniffled and wiped her eyes. Vince, she said softly, shaking her head, as if she could speak to him across the miles. She closed her eyes and clasped her hands together, taking a moment to accept what was happening. Somehow, wearing her grandmother’s ring—the ring she had always loved, the ring that had been so cherished by a woman Meredith looked up to all her life—solidified to her that, at long last, she was on the right path, that she was right where she should be, that she had found peace after all. And the fact that Vince had done this for her was the most beautiful part of all.

Merry, Nick whispered, and she opened her eyes.

It took me a long time to understand what you had been trying to tell me, he said. "I kept comparing myself to everyone else, and I always seemed to fall short. That’s why I’ve spent the last year working day and night to make some extra