Island Girls by Nancy Thayer Page B

distant. Boring. I mean, he didn’t ever pick me up or hug me. He didn’t even really notice me.”
    Meg folded her arms across her chest. “Interesting to hear you say that. I don’t think of Tom as my stepfather, actually. I called him that when I was in school, but I’m pretty sure he never felt any affection for me.”
    “I always thought you were treated like Cinderella in that household. After the babies were born.”
    Meg laughed. “You did? I guess you’re right. But with sickly twins, Mom needed the help, and I was crazy about those little boys when they were babies. When they got older, not so much. They were all about each other, their own exclusive club. Then I got sent to boarding school, and at first I felt hurt by that, so shoved away.… That was a couple of years after The Exile.” The lightness of laughter fell away from her face as her memories returned with their burden of sorrow. “I felt like I didn’t belong anywhere. That no one wanted me.” Tears filled her eyes. “Shit, I hate remembering those days.”
    “I’m sorry I brought it all up,” Arden apologized.
    “It’s okay. Boarding school turned out to be good for me. I made some really close friends, and I learned I was hardly alone as a discard. At least half the kids I knew were from divorced homes. A lot of the kids whose parents were married didn’t want them around, either. They were too busy traveling or working or something. I fit right in. I found my own little club.” Meg’s smile returned. “And I discovered I was smart. I hadn’t known that before. I got a scholarship to Smith. That was just cool beyond measure; I can’t begin to tell you what that did for me. For one thing, I didn’t have to rely on Tom for a penny. Dad helped financially, of course. I worked waiting tables all summer, so I had enough money for clothes and stuff. I got a fellowship at Lesley University for my master’s in English lit, and I started teaching at Sudbury College shortly after that. I’ve always been a hard worker. Independent.”
    “You should be proud,” Arden told her.
    “I wish …,” Meg began, then stopped and started over. “Mom and Tom and the boys came to my high school and college graduations. I think just that much was hard for them. The twins were a handful as children. Not bad boys, but active and mischievous.” Meg smiled smugly. “They gave quiet old Tom a real workout. When they were in high school, they got into a lot of trouble—not serious stuff, but wrecking cars, skipping classes, that sort of thing. Now they’re in college and doing well. They’ve settled down.”
    “Well, I’m glad for your mother’s sake.”
    “I called Mom about our July Fourth party. She can’t come. She and Tom have become social butterflies. With all the kids gone, they’re partying with their own gang. She sounds happy and busy.”
    “So there you are,” Arden said. “We know of one good man. He might not have been a good stepfather, but he wasn’t abusive, and he’s been good to his sons, and faithful to his wife.”
    Meg laughed scornfully. “That’s a sad definition of a good man.”
    “Nobody gets everything,” Arden pointed out. “Someone told me once to make a list of the ten things I want most in life. If I get the top three, I should shut up and be thrilled.”
    Jenny returned to the table. “Hmm. Interesting. What are your top three things? Husband, children, and what else?”
    “Are you kidding? Husband and children?” Arden tossed the dish towel down and threw herself into a chair. “No children for me, thank you very much. I’m thirty-four. I decided a long time ago, when my father left me to marry Cyndi and be Meg’s dad, that I’d never inflict the kind of pain on a child that I had dumped on me.”
    “It doesn’t have to be that way,” Meg said softly. She looked at Arden, whose perfect face was momentarily marred by bitter lines, and wanted to comfort her. “We had a lot of fun when we