The paper crinkled as she unfolded it, its blue lines and the three holes punched in the side revealed themselves.
Holly sighed. Thank goodness!
The paper shook in Olivia’s fingertips. She stared at it, as if it might do a trick. She found her voice in a whisper. “I wrote this for my mom. I hope you guys don’t think
It’s stupid.”
Her mother’s friends smiled. Holly reached for Olivia’s hand. It trembled in her own. She squeezed it, hoping to give her comfort and strength. “Go on, baby girl.”
Olivia read, her face wet with tears, her shoulders trembled, and yet her voice did not waiver.
“Dear Mom.” She lifted her eyes and saw the other faces watching her with eager anticipation and support— lots of support.
“I don’t know why you are gone. I don’t know why god took you so early, when I needed you here, but I think he must have needed you more than he thought I did.”
“I don’t want you to worry about me. I’m okay. We are selling our house but not because I want to, I sort of have to. Otherwise, I can’t think of anything other than being there and waiting for you to come back.” Olivia’s throat began to close as a sob escaped her lips. She sucked in air, spitting out her words quick and strong. “I’m okay. I can do this.”
“Anyway, Mom, um, I will do well in school and make you proud. I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, but I know I will do something that you would approve of and be proud of. You taught me to think outside of the box.” She looked at Holly. “I hated when she used to say that!” She flashed a crooked smile, then bent her head to read.
“I’ll be good for Jack and Holly who already feel like parents to me.” Heat rushed up her cheeks as she said, “Jack is like my real dad.”
Holly covertly eyed Jack, who sat teary eyed and silent, watching Olivia speak with his heart on his sleeve.
“And Holly is like you, Mom. She’s not you. god, no one could be you, but she’s like you.”
“I’m sorry I went through your room. I understand things now, Mom, things we didn’t talk about. It’s okay. I get it. I think you were right to keep it to yourself.”
Holly’s heart skipped a beat. She looked questioningly from Olivia to Peter, who shrugged, and Jack, who lifted his eyebrows.
“I love you, Mom.” Sobs wracked her trembling body. She covered her face, the note slipping from her fingers to the ground.
“I can’t say it!” she yelled between her fingers and tears. “I can’t say goodbye. I can’t! I don’t want to!”
Holly was quick to wrap her arms around Olivia. “Baby, it’s okay. You don’t have to. You have said enough.” She turned to Jack.
“Maybe we shouldn’t have planned this,” Jack said. Olivia broke out of Holly’s arms, shaking her head.
“No! We had to! I have to do this!” She picked up the note and stood on quivering legs. Holly was by her side, confused and hurting for Olivia.
Olivia stared into the fire, crying openly. She looked at Peter who nodded at her.
She held her letter over the fire, looked to the sky, and said, “Goodbye, Mom. I love you.” The letter slipped from her fingers into the fire. Red and purple flames engulfed the fragile paper. Olivia’s face grew so warm she had to take a step backward.
Olivia felt something push through her body with such force that she swayed forward then back, her neck suddenly jerked upward, arched toward the sky. She gasped. Her arms trembled violently at her sides, then, as if lifted by unseen hands, they were drawn up, as if reaching for the clouds. Her body thrust forward in one great push, the arch in her back painful, as a wail escaped her lips.
Holly scrambled to her side, grabbing hold of her body and fearing the unseeing look of Olivia’s eyes. Jack grabbed Olivia’s other side, steadying her.
“What the hell?” Jack asked.
“Olivia?” Holly’s voice shook frantically, “Are you okay?” She looked to Jack, pleading.
Peter pulled them back, away from the fire. “Let’s get her inside.”
Olivia blinked repeatedly. Her legs were weak, and yet her body felt cleansed, lighter, as if something had been lifted from within. “Mom?” she looked around, dazed, and suddenly her eyes flew wide open. She looked around, her face a mixture of panic and excitement. She struggled against those that held her up.
“She’s delirious,” Jack said, his voice rising in panic. “Mom? Mom?” Olivia broke free of the shackling arms
and ran to the fire, looking up toward the sky. “Mom!” she yelled. “I love you! I felt you!” All at once her body shook, and she sobbed. She began to lose her balance, her body teetering limply.
“Oh my god!” Holly rushed to her just in time to lower her gently to the ground. “Olivia?” She patted her face.
“Peter, get some cold water,” Jack ordered.
Peter rushed inside, feeling completely inadequate and helpless. He brought a cold glass of water for Olivia, and handed a cool, wet cloth to Jack, who patted Olivia’s face.
“Livi? Honey?” Jack said.
Olivia’s eyes rolled around. She blinked several times. “Mom. She’s gone,” she said confidently, yet softly. “Mom’s gone.”
Holly cried, wiping Olivia’s sweat-beaded hair off of her forehead, “Yes, baby, she is.”
“No. I mean, she’s really gone now, Holly. I felt her. She went right through me.” Olivia wrapped her arms around her belly.
Holly, Jack, and Peter exchanged glances.
“Really, Holly,” Olivia insisted. “I felt her. I felt her!” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “It’s okay.” She looked around for her mother’s urn, spotting it on the table on the deck.
Olivia leapt toward the deck, as if she had renewed energy. “We have to do this, Holly. It’s okay. I know that now.” She grabbed the urn in her arms and held it close to her chest.
She stood next to Holly and smiled. “C’mon.” She tilted her head toward the fire. “Peter, Jack, c’mon.”
Bewildered, they followed her lead toward the fire. Olivia, her face radiating the heat of the flames and her tears glittering like moon sparkles, knelt down by the fire, settling the urn between her knees. Peter, Jack, and Holly knelt, shrugging and confused.
“Olivia, are you sure you’re okay? I mean…” Holly said.
“Yes! I’m more sure of this than anything in my whole life!” she leaned toward Holly, letting her body rest against her for just a second or two. Then she sat upright and asked, “How do we do this?” Her tears had dried. She wore a smile—a real smile.
“Um, okay, well, I think we should say something,” Holly offered.
“I am sorry, you guys. I’m sorry I was such a knucklehead before. It’s just that Megan—” Peter’s eyes filled with tears. He squeezed them shut and placed his thumb and index finger over them. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Pete,” Jack said, his hand rested on Peter’s back. “We know how you feel.”
Jack looked at Olivia and asked gently, “Liv, I’ll do this, okay?”
She nodded, and handed the urn to Jack, holding it with him for an extra moment, then she released it and nodded, rolling her lips tightly into her mouth.
Jack wrapped his large hands around Megan’s urn, removed the lid, and held it up toward the sky. He looked at Olivia, who smiled and nodded.
Jack’s voice boomed into the night, strong and firm, “Megan! We release you!”
Suddenly, Holly’s mind cast back to the cobwebs of a memory—a memory of a soft, confident voice she could hear but could not place, One will be released, and returned after death. She turned toward Olivia and stared in disbelief. Returned after death. “Oh my god,” Holly said in a voice too low to be heard by the others. Her legs buckled, and she barely caught herself from complete collapse as she fell slowly to her knees. All she could do was raise her head and her eyes to the heavens, seeking Megan’s spirit, seeking forgiveness and understanding.
Jack looked down at her, smiled, a
nd nodded, misunderstanding her intent. He pushed the urn higher toward the sky, “Soar like the wind, Megan! Paint like there’s no end to your canvas! We will see you again one day. We love you!” Jack tipped the urn. Megan’s ashes floated through the cool night air, landing in the roaring fire. Crackles of yellow sparks flew into the sky, feet above the flames. Red, yellow, and purple flames swirled high, reaching toward the clouds. The flames reflected off of each of the love amulets that hung around their necks—and the Buddhist chant, the one that could not be changed, played on.
* * *
Acknowledgements
When I think of whom I would like to thank for their support, many people come to mind: my mother and family, first and foremost. Mom, thank you for loving my characters and hating my premise. Thank you for reading and correcting, crying and laughing. Thank you most of all, Mom, for always supporting my creative outlets and for pushing me to do my best and to keep going.
Thank you, Les, my amazing husband, for your undying desire for me to do the things that make me happy, and for your unyielding excitement over each character developed, each twist in the plotline, and each scene as it unfolded. Without your support, I could not write a single word. You are my treasure.
I’d like to thank all of my children for their patience and understanding, but most of all, I’d like to thank Jess and Jake who, as my youngest, have borne the brunt of my efforts. Thank you for allowing Mommy to spend countless hours writing and for accepting my “Mm-hmm” responses.
Thank you for helping me come up with the title, and for being so very excited about Megan’s Way coming to print. You are my biggest fans!
There are too many friends to call out, but one I cannot miss. Thank you, Beth grimmett for reading, rereading, and enjoying my manuscripts. Thank you for being honest with your feedback and for pushing me to continue. To my other early readers, Michelle Belski and Jen Lo Turco, thank you for plodding through what was not yet a finished manuscript and for supporting my efforts.
Dominique Agnew, my editor and friend, without whom Megan’s Way never would have found a shelf, you are a godsend to me. Thank you for fine-tuning Megan’s Way, indulging my stubbornness, making me see the other side of things, and helping me see that together, anything is possible! Megan’s Way would not have flowed as smoothly without your input.
Lastly, to all my sisters from The Women’s nest, of which there are too many to list: govtmule, Tabitha, Clare, Cara, Davesgrl, Sweet_escape, Jacklynr, Bekah_shrinks, gardengrl, Kerri_Draper, nel361, Riverspirit, Shadowrose, and everyone else who has stood by me, motivated me, and cheered me on. Thank you!
A conversation with Melissa Foster
Q. What was your inspiration for Megan’s Way?
A. Many years ago, my mother went in for surgery that I was told was for several benign cysts on her ovaries. It wasn’t until a year later that she told me that there had been an oncologist in the operating room because they had thought she may have cancer, and that she had already determined that had they found cancer, she was not going to undergo treatment. This was over ten years ago, when treatments were not as advanced as they are now. My heart sank when she told me, and I hung on to that feeling and mulled over what it would have been like for both of us—i could not let it go. That’s how Megan’s Way was born.
Q. What was the underlying theme you sought to impart to your readers?
A. There are so many. I think it is important that we do something in life that we enjoy, and that we make decisions based on what we feel is best in our own individual circumstances, rather than what others think is best. In this case, Megan thought that prolonging her death would, in the end, be more treacherous to Olivia than her passing on sooner and more quickly, and her decision was made. Forgiveness, belief in one’s self, the depths of friendship, and cherishing each moment as we live it—that’s what I was going for.
Q. Did your own lifestyle influence the book in any way?
A. In some ways, yes. I paint, and therefore wanted Megan to live a very artful lifestyle, hence the art shows and flea markets. I think instincts are overlooked far too often, and that’s why I gave Megan a sixth sense with Olivia. If we are open to them, I believe these lines can become strong within our own minds. I cherish the few close friends that I have, and felt it was important to show their feelings toward Megan’s death.
Q. Do you believe in life after death?
A. This will either turn off my readers or entice them. The truth is: yes, I do believe in a certain type of life after death. I do believe one has a certain amount of time to reach out and touch our loved ones. Weird, I know—but that’s me.
Q. With six children, when do you find time to write?
A. I had to wait until my youngest was in school full time, and then I wrote for six hours each day, but Megan’s Way wasn’t my first novel. My first novel was The Knowing, which has not come to print yet. Megan knocked on my door, and I had to let her in and set down The Knowing for a bit. The Knowing for a bit. I continue to write while my children are in school and after they go to sleep at night, or while they are doing homework or are otherwise busy.
Q. What are you working on now?
A. I am working on my second novel, The Knowing, a mystery with a paranormal twist about Tracey Potter, a seven-year-old girl who is abducted, and one woman’s desperate search to find her. Molly Tanner has had visions all her life, but never have they been this horrifying, unveiling images of a young girl being held captive. guided by her visions, she weaves her way through the secret cavities of people’s lives, creating upheaval in the small town when dark secrets are exposed.
Q. May readers contact you? Are you available to speak with book clubs?
A. Absolutely! I love to meet and chat with readers. They can contact me through my website(s):
www.MelissaFoster.com
www.TheWomensNest.com
Questions for book club discussions
1. Megan struggles throughout the book with guilt over her decision to stop her medications and treatments. Do you think she did the right thing?
2. Megan didn’t decide to disclose who Olivia’s father was until the night she died. Why do you think it took her so long? Do you think she should have disclosed the information to Olivia and/or Jack sooner, or not at all?
3. Holly implies that she knew Megan’s baby was Jack’s. Why do you think she never approached the topic with Megan? For that matter, why did she avoid discussing the possibility with Jack?
4. Olivia progressed from self-inflicted pain to meeting someone she chatted with on a prohibited website, putting her own life in danger. Do you think this is typical teenage behavior? Should Megan have seen that coming?
5. Do you believe in life after death?
6. It appears that Jack knew Holly was right for him when they began dating, do you think it ever occurred to him that he may have fathered Megan’s baby, or was he simply in denial?
7. Peter is greatly affected by Megan’s death. Why do you think his relationship with Megan, rather than his relationship with Holly, brought his inability to commit to a relationship to a changing point?
8. What themes do you see throughout the book?
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