Page 90 of Even After This
I ignore the call. She’ll want to know about the property search, and I can’t talk about real life right now.
My next exhale stretches the limits of the paper.
Penelope clucks her tongue. “Text me the pharmacy numberand I’ll take care of the details. I’ll also alert his boss and look into getting his flight changed.”
As I pull the bag down, I lean over my thighs and rest my head on my knees. “Penelope? What about Alex?” I have no idea what the custody agreement entails for this kind of thing.
“I’ll take care of it.”
Her clipped words confuse me. Is she angry? “Do you want me to ask Harlan—”
“I deal with Olivia on a regular basis. I will handle this.” Even her sigh is curt. “A warning, Meredith. Olivia’s behavior is erratic on a good day. It seems the stress of losing her father has sent her into a tailspin. I don’t know what it is, but she’s up to something.”
The hairs on my arms stand on end, and I sit up straight. “I appreciate the warning, but I can’t imagine I’d have an occasion to interact with her.”
“It’s not about your interactions with Olivia. It’s about your interactions with Harlan.”
I drop the bag and use my free hand to put pressure on my chest. “What does that mean?”
“Olivia makes empty threats, and it’s hard to tell if she’ll follow through. This time she’s spouting off about challenging the current custody agreement.”
Terrified to know the answer, I whisper my question. “On what grounds?”
“She claims being around Alex during her father’s illness and death reminded her of the mother she wants to be. But there’s no mistaking the timing. She didn’t speak of this until she found out Harlan was going to visit you.”
My stomach churns, and I might be the next one to throw up.
Me. Olivia wants to challenge Harlan’s custody of Alex because of me.
My thoughts spin faster than I can process them. If she has someone look into my past, they’ll find a long-term treatmentfacility stay. Not the most stable girlfriend choice to be around a precious three-year-old.
Moisture pricks my eyes. I won’t be part of causing Harlan to lose a child.
“Meredith, I want to be clear with you. I like you. Harlan has been different since he met you. Lighter. Happier.”
The kind words are not a worthy opponent for my swirling anxiety.
“But if you’re not serious about a future with him, would you consider letting him go sooner rather than later?”
The phone slips from my shaking hand, and I fumble to regain control. “Um. Okay.” I swallow down the lump in my throat. This conversation has taken a turn I never saw coming. “Thank you so much for your help today, Penelope.”
When she signs off, I gently bang the phone against my forehead. How am I supposed to know what a future with Harlan looks like?
My past is peppered with love. I’ve always fallen quick and deep. My present is filled with the solid possibility of Harlan. But my future? What if we don’t want the same things?
Risking his custody of Alex isn’t an option.
I stand, shake out my arms, and peer down the corridor. No sounds answer my stare. After I send out a few texts, I shove my phone in my back jeans pocket. “Okay, Meredith. Suck it up.”
I woke up this morning with a pit in my stomach, understanding this would be our last day together. What a difference an hour makes. Squeezing my eyes closed, I beg God to save us from the vomit.
After tiptoeing down the hallway, I stop at the open door of the guest room. “You all right?”
The prone, pale-faced man in front of me squints. “Why do you look like I should be asking you the same thing?” His frail voice is choppy.
“I can’t do vomit.” My confession sounds like that of a scared little girl. Maybe a seven-year-old little girl named Meredith.
The noise he makes resembles a dying horse. “Is this like how you can’t do famous people?” Lying on his side, he clasps his hands and tucks them under his head.
