The Riches of Mercy (22 page)

"Does she?" Natalie asked.

"She put you together, didn't she? If I recall, you weren't initially all that interested."

"It was the drugs. I wasn't interested in anything."

"Oh, that's a mess. I have a steel rod in my leg. I wouldn't wish the process on anyone," Daniel said.

Natalie nodded.

Daniel leaned over the railing. "15 minutes, everyone."

"Rest, relax, Natalie. You're on vacation."

Natalie tilted her head up and closed her eyes.

# #

Chapter Twenty-Five

"Ready to go?" Meredith asked.

Natalie listened to the crashing waves, low and steady. The plate beside her held only juices. The rest of the steak was in her stomach. Conquered. She'd been dozing. The breeze off the water was cool and the sky turned grey, and then charcoal, without the benefit of a sunset. The sun was behind her head, all the way to California where the other ocean was.

Meredith promised to wake her up for the sunrise.

"I'm ready," she said, and thinking about it, she was. Excitement grew within her, taking over the lethargy and the desire for sleep. She wanted to be out there in the night. Jake went to one side, and Meredith to the other, and they lifted her up. She groaned. The chair had been perfect and her body resented moving.

"I'll stretch her out," Jake said.

"You'll what?"

"Trust me."

So Jake took her into the bedroom and stretched her out while Meredith kissed the boys goodnight, and it was humiliating and painful and left her in tears, and after it she felt like jelly and like she could fly.

Jake and Daniel carried her down stairs, and then she walked with Meredith the block to the beach.

Jake's beach was different than the public access she'd seen in the morning--rockier and thinner. The tide was just starting to go out again and the sand underfoot was wet. They walked toward the point, where it was only rocks, and some seaweed and some scrub, where the houses ended and they could see more of the ocean. There were stars, and except for the waves everything was quiet.

"Are you all right?" Meredith asked.

Natalie leaned heavily on her, holding her arm. She'd left her crutch at the bottom of the infernal staircase. She felt weak and more broken than she had in days, and she would pay tomorrow.

She grinned. "I'm good."

Meredith patted her arm.

"I was a trial lawyer, you know--Am. I mean, it's nothing like on
Law & Order
. Oh, how I wanted it to be. But it's mostly procedural items and long dockets read aloud and witnesses who are reluctant and afraid and who lie and who smell. And the jury, seeking blood. Bored. Salivating. If they have to miss work, or miss their children, then they want something.

"All they get is tedium. Endless tedium. But I didn't care. I would go there. I'd say, 'Look, look at that killer,' or, 'We're going to tell you what he allegedly did. But you know he did.' I took risks."

"But you weren't good with people."

Natalie shook her head. "I never felt like I was a nice enough person. So I worked harder."

Meredith nodded.

"You're not going to tell me I'm crazy?"

"I'm not a psychologist. You seem all right to me. A little testy."

"I was in a car accident!"

"Mmhm."

Natalie snorted.

At the point of the beach where rocks made a natural barrier and waves splashed unevenly, there was a bench. An ordinary park bench, sitting there in the middle of the flatness.

"Kind of incongruous, don't you think?" Natalie asked.

"I prefer to think of it as found art. The tourists complain, but they sit."

"Like we're about to do."

"Why, yes. Smartiepants."

"I made it weeks in Tarpley without hearing that."

"Well, to your face," Meredith said.

Natalie gasped. Meredith sat on the bench and Natalie sat next to her. "I take it back. I would have never been able to get up from the ground."

"Nope."

Natalie sighed.

"You're getting stronger every day. Soon you'll forget all this."

"Not all of this."

"The bad parts."

"Not all the bad parts."

"You should."

Natalie gazed at Meredith and not the ocean, crashing, demanding attention, offering moonlight dancing on water and fish leaping up like black spots and ships in the distance with pretty lights.

"Tell me about the case," Natalie said.

"You know--"

"I mean, the details. The procedures. What they said. What you said. What you've filed. What evidence has been presented--"

"Whoa, hold on."

"I want to help you."

"You can't help me, Nat."

"I know what I'm doing. I'm good. I win. I know it's none of my business--"

"It's not."

Natalie held Meredith's gaze. She licked her lips and noticed how the moonlight reflected in Meredith's eyes. Little flecks of white moving along a glossy black surface.

"I want--" Natalie started, and then rethought her words. She said, deliberately, "I want to be the one that saves you."

"You know, for a long time," Meredith said, with equal slowness and precision, as if the words were warding off crying--Natalie could hear tears in her voice, the sob underneath, and the way she blinked more. "I didn't want to be saved."

"I know," Natalie said.

"But now."

"Let me help," Natalie said. She put her hand over Meredith's.

"There's nothing you can do."

Natalie swallowed.

"I'm sure you're a good lawyer and all, but you're not a part of it. I don't want you to be."

"Listen."

"Oh, you've convinced me," Meredith said.

"That's not what I meant," Natalie said. She put her free hand on Meredith's shoulder and leaned in and kissed her.

Meredith squeaked. Her mouth opened slightly as she gasped, but she didn't move. Natalie pressed against the warmth of her lips long enough to make a memory, and then pulled back. Meredith breathed. Natalie felt the breath against her face. She let go of Meredith's shoulder.

"Sorry," she said.

"It doesn't change anything," Meredith said. She gazed at Natalie evenly; their heads still close together, their breaths mingling.

"Why not?"

"I'll be convicted, Vince's parents will get the boys, and you'll be back in Charlotte seeing it all on the evening news."

"I could--"

"You're not my attorney."

"I want to help you," Natalie said.

"Help me do what?"

"Stay out of jail?"

"It's my fault I'm going. My decision. I made it. It wasn't in a vacuum--. It was every decision I've ever made, since childhood. And Vince--Do you think you can irrevocably change the course of my life? It's going to keep going, just the way it is."

Natalie was silent. Her eyes stung with tears. She moved her hand from Meredith's shoulder to her neck, cupping it gently. The skin was smooth and warm under her fingers. She wanted to stroke it, to see where it led. She wanted the family, and the woman with it.

"You saved me," Natalie said.

Meredith turned away. "Not in the strict definition."

Natalie dropped her hand. She felt something closing in on her. Walls. Pain. Darkness. Convincing by argument is all she had ever done. She knew the right words to get someone to convict someone else; to get them to push someone else off a cliff. But she could no more get defendants to confess than she could get Meredith to fight.

Meredith was right--she didn't change lives, she just got people to where they were going. Commit a crime and get caught, and the rest was inevitable. With enough poverty or enough oppression or enough torment, even committing a crime was inevitable.

"Fine. Fine. But can't I do something while I'm here? Tell me. Let me."

"I don't--"

"Come on."

"Natalie Ivans, are you whining?"

Natalie dropped her head.

Meredith touched her shoulder. "You're serious."

"I will grant one wish in return for being able to walk again."

"Okay," Meredith said. The word was so small the ocean almost deafened it. Meredith wouldn't meet her eyes. She studied the horizon instead, and said, "Then hold me."

Meredith didn't move until Natalie took her in her arms. Stiffly, she leaned. Natalie put one arm around her shoulders and the other against her head, stroking her hair. Meredith relaxed. They stayed close and at the ocean together until the moon rose and Natalie started to get cold.

Natalie tilted her head, preparing to ask if Meredith was ready to limp back inside, or fetch a sedan chair for her. Meredith had been completely still for minutes, but at Natalie's shift, lifted her head. Her cheeks glistened with spilled tears. She cupped the back of Natalie's neck and pulled her down.

Their lips met solidly.

A thrill went through Natalie as they kissed, as the touch lingered past doubts and hesitations, as Meredith's lips parted and there was heat. Natalie felt supple and eager and powerful. She cupped the side of Meredith's face and returned each kiss.

Meredith moaned. The sound escaped her throat and found Natalie's ears. Natalie kissed the corner of Meredith's mouth. Meredith panted against her lips, and then kissed her cheek, then the side of her face, then her hair.

Meredith clutched her so tightly Natalie felt strong for being able to withstand it.

"Oh, God," Meredith said.

Natalie chuckled. She cupped Meredith's face and said, "Did you just take the Lord's name in vain?"

Meredith closed her eyes and said, "No. I really, really meant it. You have no idea."

"I have some idea."

Meredith's eyelids fluttered open. "You do?"

"Yes." Natalie, still cupping her face, leaned in and kissed her, trying to share all the things that the hurried, passionate kisses hadn't.

Meredith kissed her back, tipping her face, smiling through the kisses until Natalie broke off, laughing. Then she brought Meredith back against her. They watched the water, and Natalie's heart quieted in her chest, though Meredith's hand was on her leg, and the breeze blew Meredith's hair across her neck.

"I don't know what's going to happen," Meredith said. "What I deserve, I suppose. But this will help. I promise. I'll think of this. Can you stand?"

"I don't know," Natalie said.

Meredith stood up and offered her hands. "Come on."

Natalie took her hands. She tried to pull herself up. Pain shot through her shoulder. She fell back onto the bench, wincing.

"Breathe," Meredith said, moving back to her side.

"Hard to breathe."

Meredith wrapped her arms around Natalie's waist. "Try again."

"Let me just stay here forever."

"Forever?"

"Sure. Reliving the best night of my life."

Meredith chuckled. She heaved, and Natalie put all her weight on her good leg and let Meredith guide her into a balanced standing position. She teetered, but her legs held under her. Neither turned to twigs. She turned carefully and hugged Meredith.

Meredith held her--not just up, but close--and the embrace was warm and strong. Meredith ran her hands down Natalie's back. Natalie nearly fell to the sand. The current going through her was far more than friendly. She bit her lip and stepped back from the torture of Meredith's hug. She took Meredith's arm instead.

"I can stand," she said.

Meredith stepped back so they could walk back toward the house.

Pier lights glittered in the distance. Natalie hobbled toward them, toward the sounds of civilization and the nightlife of the beach. The dunes were empty of other people, but full of crabs hidden somewhere in the sand, and seaweed and shells and rocks.

The houses along the beach were mostly dark and even in the moonlight the darkness was deep enough Natalie missed the wooden staircase. Meredith tugged her to get her to stop plodding forward.

"Here," Meredith said.

"How could you tell?"

Meredith pointed to where Natalie's crutch stood against the railing.

Natalie went toward the stairs, aching, wanting to lie down in the sand and rest her muscles. Sharp pains started in her leg. She clutched the railing, and panted. Then Meredith's hand was on her back, friendly again.

"Help me with these?" Natalie asked.

Meredith got her propped up, and then walked behind her as she ascended, touching her hips and making sure she didn't topple backwards. Going back down the stairs was more terrifying. She mostly let gravity pull her, using Meredith to hold her up while she lowered herself to the next step, rather than the crutches. Then up again at Jake's.

"I'm so becoming an ADA enforcement attorney," Natalie said.

"You'd be good at it."

"I'm a good criminal attorney."

"Nat--"

"Sorry. We won't talk about it again."

"Good."

"At least not tonight."

Meredith snorted.

#

Jake was asleep on the couch when they got in. He woke up, rubbing his eyes. "I stayed up to help Nat up the stairs."

"I can see that," Meredith said.

"Sorry, Nat. You guys hungry?"

Natalie shook her head.

"No, Jake. Go on to bed," Meredith said.

He went, leaving them in the living room.

Meredith said, "Take a shower. Hot. Trust me, you'll feel better in the morning."

"I have to keep standing?"

"Just a little while longer."

Natalie swallowed hard. She put her hands on Meredith's shoulders. Meredith pushed forward and stretched up to kiss her. Natalie felt Meredith's warm lips against hers and the kiss held and lingered until Meredith was in her arms again and Meredith's fingers were dancing up and down her back. Natalie tingled.

Then, from somewhere, a kid coughed. They broke apart. Meredith bit her lip. Natalie wanted to wipe the expression away with kisses, or logic, but Meredith smiled on her own and mouthed the word, "Shower."

The thoughts of hot water pouring down Natalie's back and steam rising to her face were enchanting temptations. She limped to the bathroom. Meredith went to check on the boys. Natalie managed to get the water on, but her clothes presented a problem. Her shoulder was done for the night. Or at least, until the shower was done.