Megan's Way

by Melissa Foster

  Tears sprang to her eyes as she opened the carefully-folded paper, burnt around the edges and brown in the middle. A note.

  Slowly she opened the folds. The paper was stiff, the edges crumbled under her fingers. Once opened, she crouched down, resting her bottom on her heels, and stared at the handwritten note. How did we not see this before? She looked around, and everything else was just as she had left it, nothing changed, nothing rearranged.

  Tears fell gently onto the paper and smeared the purple ink as she read.

  Mom, where do I go from here?

  I don’t know what to do. I feel lost. Please come back to me. I need you. I’m sorry I was trouble to you. I’m sorry if you wanted to leave me. I love you. Olivia

  Holly clutched the note to her chest, crying. Her hand shook. Olivia.

  She tucked the note in between the two burned logs where she found it and felt her heart grow heavy with grief. My poor girl.

  In Megan’s room, Holly straightened the mess that Olivia had left. I’ll leave the clothes and go through them with Olivia. She moved from the bathroom to the closet, the closet to the bed. She folded clothes and set things right along the way, as if in a trance. Her hands went through the motions, but her mind was in a fog. Holly reached down to pick up Megan’s tie-dyed sleeping pants. They slipped through her fingers. Holly crouched to the floor and held the pants in her hands, running the soft cotton material through her fingers. These were your favorite. She smiled. A piece of paper peeked out from under the bed and caught her attention. She looked under the bed, taking the paper in her hand, and saw a small wooden box.

  Instinct made her look around the room, like a child being caught snooping for Christmas presents. As her fingers grasped the box, she felt warmth spread through her body. Nerves. She slid the box out from under the bed and walked to the window seat. She sat with it in her lap. I promise, Meg, I’m only looking for things you might not want Olivia to find. No judgments here.

  The sun beat on her shoulders. She sighed deeply, again settling the stray hairs that had fallen into her face behind her ears. She lifted the lid of the box and was met with what looked like letters. She smiled. Good for you, Meg. Maybe you did have a love life after all, you sneaky girl.

  Holly took out the letters one by one. Most of them were from Holly, written when they were little girls while Megan was at summer camp. Holly nodded, laughing to herself at how much she used to miss Megan while she was away. I can’t live without her! she remembered telling her mother over and over, knowing that they could not afford to send her to camp, but feeling better by complaining all the same.

  “Oh Meg,” Holly said. She dug through the pile, and found a few from Peter, written, she thought, while he was away for summer vacations during college. There were two from Lawrence Childs, which Holly did not remove from the envelopes, though she was aching to know what they said.

  As she closed the box, her finger brushed the inside of the top, where the cloth had come loose. She opened it wide again, and inspected the seam, immediately noticing a small envelope tucked between the material and the wood.

  “Oh Meg. What do we have here?” She suddenly felt shameful, going through Megan’s things. Her hands shook and she closed the box, spreading her fingers across the top and looked out the window. “Meg? What should I do?” She stood and placed the box on the bed. She turned and walked away. Halfway across the room, she turned back. Something inside her told her that the letter was vital, that she should read it. Just as loudly, a voice told her she was breaching Megan’s privacy.

  She walked back to the bed and stood over the box. “What the hell am I supposed to do?” With shaking hands she withdrew the envelope, which unfolded on its own as it was removed from the confines of its chamber, and two tiny photos dropped to the floor. She looked down, then closed her eyes, and let them remain there, scattered at her feet like forgotten crumbs. She scanned the document, and although she had known for a long time that what she was reading was true, her hand flew to her mouth, and a flood of tears streamed down her face. She folded the document as well as her trembling would allow, picked up the photos, which she glanced at quickly, and stuffed them back into the envelope. She put the envelope in her back pocket, and sat down on the edge of Megan’s bed, trying to settle her nerves.

  Stop it! You knew. You’ve known for a long time. Why are you so upset? Holly tried to reason herself out of her anxious state. She felt anger bubbling in her gut, mixed with sadness, regret, and…jealousy.

  They don’t know. What do I do now, Megan? How could you leave us with this type of burden? As the thought whipped through her mind with the force of a whole gale, the room filled with the scent of Megan, lavender and coconut.

  The smell permeated her senses. Holly stood, feeling dazed and lightheaded. She looked around Megan’s room. The smell overpowered her, as if she were standing right next to Megan. Her shaking doubled, her legs threatened collapse. Her voice trembled, “Megan?” she said.

  There was no answer. Of course. Her eyes darted across the room, the pungent odor hung in the air like a cloud. “Megan?” she said a little louder, still just a trembling, forced whisper.

  From above, Megan watched Holly. She didn’t know what to do, how to lighten her burden. She had spent so much time protecting Olivia’s father’s identity that she hadn’t prepared Holly. How could she have left this unsaid? How could she put Holly through that?

  Megan looked down at her form, which, over the last twenty-four hours had started to fade into the air. She was certain she wouldn’t remain in this place, this trap between two realms, much longer. Frustrated, she whisked her form around the room, invisibly circling Holly, trying to find a way to connect with her, to let her know she was sorry.

  Holly was rooted to the floor. She was too scared to move, too shocked to find the strength to continue cleaning up. She willed herself to move toward the bedroom door. She moved slowly toward it, her legs felt weighed down with the knowledge she’d gained. As she moved, she noticed that the floral smell, Megan’s smell, was stronger, as if it were trying to fill the space of the doorway, to block her way. She pushed through and rushed downstairs.

  Megan was left with her own guilt wrapped around her body like a snake, squeezing her opaque form until she cried out in anger. Her hot tears streamed to her right, disappeared into the clouds. She watched them turn gray and heavy and felt her heart do the same.

  Chapter Seven

  Peter found himself floundering, as if out at sea with only a life preserver and no land in sight. He felt as though he were in a completely different place in his life without Megan nearby. It’s not that he had seen her very often or had confided in her any more than he had his other close friends. Something had been happening to him, though, during the month since Megan’s passing. There was an undeniable change occurring within his mind, his soul.

  The realization of how quickly one’s life could change made him rethink his actions, all of his actions. He had carried anger toward his mother for so many years that it had become part of who he was. It was a crutch that he relied on and rued at the same time—subconsciously, certainly, and on occasion, consciously as well. He’d felt it bubble beneath his skin when he was younger and was teased by his playmates about his mother leaving him. As he matured, and relationships would end, he always thrust the blame of his partner’s leaving on his mother. How quickly he learned not to trust, not to fully give himself to someone else, not to put himself out there, in the open, splayed for the emotional beating that was sure to follow.

  Megan’s death changed how he viewed himself, how he viewed others. He felt a difference when he woke in the morning, seeing each day through more positive eyes, Like Megan’s eyes, he thought.

  He stepped onto the balcony and looked up toward the sky. As Cruz’s arms wrapped around him from behind, hugging him close, he felt the strong pounding of his heart against his own back. Peter looked to the sky and thought, Thank you, Megan, and sighed deeply.
Finally happy, finally able to try and give his heart, his whole heart, to his lover, he turned and reciprocated the embrace.

  The kids around her laughed, passed notes, and flirted with one and other, just like normal kids did. Normal kids. I’m nowhere near normal. Normal kids’ moms don’t die. After four weeks’ time, Olivia had thought she’d be ready to go back to school, face reality again, finish the last two weeks of school with everyone else—but in the halls, the other kids tried not to make eye contact with her and whispered, thinking she couldn’t hear them. They thought she didn’t know they were whispering about the “Girl whose mother just died.” Olivia wished she could be invisible. Maybe it was a mistake to come back to school so soon.

  No one knew how to act around her. Her friends told her they were sorry and then quickly found excuses to rush away from her. She was just as confused about how to act around them. Everyone at school carried on as though nothing bad had happened. They went to school, went out on the weekend, and were carefree. Why should they act any different? It wasn’t their mother!

  Lunchtime was even more painful. Olivia sat at her regular table with the two girls she sometimes hung out with, but as she tried to laugh and joke, her loneliness slowly resurfaced. She struggled to smile and shrank back into her chair, engulfed in sadness. What’s wrong? Are you okay? She told them that she was fine, but that her stomach hurt a little.

  How am I supposed to act? What do you do when your mother dies? She won’t be there when I get home. I can’t call her to come get me. Olivia sat in the nurse’s office with tears trickling down her cheeks.

  Olivia spent the following morning going over her phone conversation with Jason from the night before. Jason understood so much of what she was going through that he was actually able to help her feel better. He really seemed to get her feeling of being abandoned. He said he had felt that way, too! Don’t worry, after a few weeks your mind will remember that it wasn’t really her fault she had cancer. Then you’ll be able to forgive her for leaving. It takes time, but it will get easier. She knew he was right. She played that line over and over in her head, it wasn’t really her fault she had cancer, and could already feel her body and mind accepting it in a way that she had been unable to the day before. She sighed and thought about how lucky she was to have found a friend like him.

  At eight A.M., Olivia strode down the stairs two at a time, and bounded into the kitchen, surprising Holly, who had been thinking about how she could help Olivia through her pain—what she could and couldn’t say. Holly was glad to see Olivia’s rejuvenated spirit as she watched Olivia’s pony tail bounce just above her shoulders as she prepared her breakfast, and instantly recognized the teenage splendor of a new relationship.

  Olivia set cereal at the table and smiled at Holly. She hadn’t been able to stop smiling, or thinking about Jason, since her mother’s public goodbye ceremony. Jason. Jason Forrester. She sighed.

  “You got it bad, girl,” Holly teased.

  Olivia lifted her eyes, smiled. “That’s something Mom would say to me,” she said.

  “Oh, sorry.”

  “No, it’s okay, really.” Olivia ate her cereal, unable to hide her smile between bites. “I like that you remind me of her.”

  Holly leaned a little closer to Olivia, as if she were about to share a secret. “I was thinking, Livi, about moving your stuff over here. I don’t want to push you.” Her words rushed out of her mouth, much faster than she had practiced. She wished Jack were there, but he had a business trip and wouldn’t be home until very late. “Whenever you’re ready. I just wasn’t sure how long you wanted to wait.”

  Olivia had tried not to think about the logistics of her mother’s passing. She tried not to think too much about her mother at all, lately. She found that when she did, she spiraled into a sadness that took control of her and she could barely break free from it. It was much easier, she decided, to go about her life, her daily activities, focusing on other things and keeping busy enough that her mind could not find the hole her mother had left.

  She hadn’t thought about when she should move all of her stuff. She was living with Holly and Jack, but her things, her mother’s things, were back at Seaside Lane, where she and her mom lived.

  She set her spoon in her bowl and sat back in her chair, knitting her hands together, her brow squeezed tight.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Holly reached out to touch her arm.

  “You didn’t,” Olivia said. She straightened her back a little so Holly wouldn’t think she was really upset. She wasn’t very upset. She simply hadn’t thought about the timing. “What will happen to our house?” she asked.

  “Well, we’ll probably sell it and put the money away for your college,” Holly said softly, eyeing Olivia, weighing her facial response, the soft tilt of her head. Good. Holly waited in silence.

  Sell it. Sell it. I can’t go there anymore. I can’t see my mom through the French doors, or slam out of the house when I’m mad, or cuddle up next to her in her bed when I’m scared. She won’t sit in my room anymore and watch me sleep.

  Holly watched emotions run across Olivia’s face, fear, sadness, confusion. “Livi, we don’t have to do this anytime soon. We can wait a year if you want.”

  Olivia shook her head, took her spoon in her hand, and slowly brought it to her mouth. The cereal was cold and crunchy. She focused on it. It felt good. It took no thought, no emotions.

  Her mind reeled through the goodbye ceremony and found its way to Jason, his smile, his long arms and strong hand grabbing hers, her lips curled into a soft smile. And Mom wasn’t there. Life does keep going.

  “It’s so weird, Holly,” she said between bites. “I mean, Mom isn’t here, but everything continues. The sun comes up each morning and goes down at night. School goes on. I look at everyone sometimes and think, ‘Why can’t they see how sad I am?’ But then I remember that most of them don’t even know Mom died, you know?”

  Holly nodded, feeling the same way.

  “It’s like Mom was insignificant to so many people. She didn’t even exist.” Her eyes became glassy. “I don’t want to forget her, you know?” Olivia pleaded.

  “I know, baby. You won’t forget her—ever. She lives in our hearts. She was very significant. She will always be very significant. It might be true that she didn’t know everyone in your school or everyone you pass on the street, but those who knew her adored her, just like we do.” Holly moved next to Olivia, hugged her, then leaned back and smiled at her.

  “We don’t have to do this now, honey. Let’s just think about it a while, okay?” Holly said. Olivia nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry, Olivia. There’s no need to ever be sorry. We love you and we want to know how you feel. I’ll always be here for you, and if you want to go back to Dr. Cavelino, the therapist you and your mother saw together, we can do that, too. I’d even go with you if you want me to.”

  Olivia smiled. “Thanks. I’ll let you know. I think I’m okay for now. I just hadn’t thought about the house, that’s all.”

  Trying to change the subject to a lighter one, Holly asked, “You seem a little…happier this morning. Have you heard from Jason?”

  A mischievous smile crept across Olivia’s face. She bit her lower lip and looked up at Holly through her long eyelashes. A hot blush rushed up her cheeks. She nodded.

  Holly raised her eyes in question.

  “He called yesterday. He wants me to meet him at the beach this weekend.” Olivia carried her bowl to the sink. With her back to Holly, she closed her eyes tight and asked, “Can I?”

  My first real decision. What would Megan do? Livi has a chance for a real friend. He seemed like a nice boy. What if she gets hurt. I know, Megan, you would say, “She’s got to go through it sometime.” Is now the right time? Oh, Meg, I wish you were here. Talking to Megan in her mind had quickly become a habit for Holly. It’s as if Megan wasn’t really gone but lived on and could help guide her. She took a
deep breath, watched Olivia turn to face her, hiding what Holly knew were her crossed fingers behind her back.

  “I guess,” the words slipped out before Holly realized they had. Olivia rushed over and threw her arms around Holly’s neck.

  “Thank you! Thank you! oh my god, I need to get my bathing suit!” True to her fourteen-year-old spirit, her thoughts quickly turned to excitement, and her mourning had been pushed aside—at least for the moment.

  Standing on the beach, the sand warm between his bare toes, Jack remembered his night with Megan. He gazed out at the sea. He remembered the feel of her against him, the flecks of sand strewn across her naked stomach, the breathlessness of the moment.

  Is she mine, Megan? Do I have a daughter? Damn it, Megan, how could you leave us like this? Jack knelt down, his head weighed heavy in his hands as fresh tears stung his eyes.

  He reached into his pocket, took out the Yin necklace, and rubbed his thumb over its cold surface. Meg. He had thought of nothing else since the idea came to him that Olivia might be his daughter. It pained him to look at Holly, feeling his lie of omission of the past fourteen years like a dagger in his heart. He should have told her. Sometime during the past decade, he should have come clean. It just never seemed like the right time, and then so much time had passed that it seemed wrong to blurt it out.