“I’m in right now. Go call them.”
“Are you sure?”
“If you make me beg, I will, but it isn’t pretty.” Bryant grabbed the hardhat from Mitch, then took his outstretched hand and tugged him in for a slapping bear hug. “I’m sorry, Mitch, that I wasn’t here. Real sorry.”
Mitch stood back. “Well, you’re here now. And just in time. I about fell asleep on the chop saw yesterday.”
They walked into the yard, Mitch pointing and catching him up along the way. All the while hard, angry feelings balled inside Bryant. Megan hadn’t rejected him outright, but her not coming, not budging, was a rejection sure enough. In a way he could feel it wasn’t her fault, but still, she wasn’t willing to get rid of whatever it was a little quicker, and he couldn’t wait forever. Suddenly he wanted to hammer something. Hard.
Stepping up into the trailer office, Bryant followed Mitch inside then let the office door slam shut behind him, closing the door on Megan McCormick.
***
Megan ignored the knock from her mother on the small bedroom door. You wouldn’t have known it used to be her room, almost all signs blocked by cardboard boxes holding her family’s history in decorations and knickknacks.
After a night and most of the day since Bryant’s stormy good-bye, Megan still didn’t know what to do—well, except one idea. Her mom had taken on her usual all-is-well demeanor, still humming in a falsely cheery mood while cleaning the house. She was no help. Jillian was semi-officially still on her honeymoon. Megan offered yet another silent prayer to understand what to do next.
Her chest hurt with feeling things, conflicting things. One minute she felt his kiss from last night—never had he been like that with her, so encompassing she could hardly breathe. And feelings shooting and tingling all over her body—it had been shocking, thrilling, overwhelming. Then the pain of watching him leave, actually walk out the door and be gone, for good. No text, no call, nothing. He was truly gone. And then the ache began all over again, spreading from her ribs down through her stomach, through her veins, through her limbs, until she felt heavy and immovable. It was her fault, all of it. And yet, she didn’t know how to stop it, how to solve it, how to make it go away and have it be all better.
Then the anger. Smoldering from some place low she had felt it start to burn, and rise. Not anger at him or herself, but at the doubting gray feeling that kept her holding back, kept her confused.
But this time, she could feel something else taking over. The Old-New Megan was not going to need three months on a cruise ship to get it together. No, the desire to do was there—but exactly what, and what wouldn’t worsen the situation—those were the questions.
She pursed her lips. The idea came to mind again. It was worth a shot. And it certainly couldn’t make things worse.
Calling directory assistance, Megan hoped she had the right one. She had tried his cell phone but no answer—this was the next best idea. Finally, dialing the home number, she willed her hands not to shake and took a few deep breaths.
“Hello?” said a woman’s voice.
“Hello, Mrs. Johnson?”
“No, this is Piper, her daughter. May I ask who’s calling?”
“Piper, oh!” Megan burst out unintentionally. “I’m sorry, it’s Megan, Megan McCormick. You don’t know me but—”
“Megan, of course I know you. Well, not in person, but certainly from the few juicy tidbits we’ve been able to squeeze from Bryant. Just a minute—” she could hear the sound more muffled. “Jakey, honey, that’s a no. Put that back, that’s Grammie’s. I know. Share your trucks with Sarah.” Then back to the phone. “Sorry about that.”
“Are those your children?”
“Yes, only two—and so fun—but some days it feels like I have ten. Anyway, where were we? I think Bryant’s at the yard. He didn’t go to the hospital because Dad will be home after the appointment, although things sound a bit more optimistic now for a successful surgery. Such a relief, and we’re so glad Bryant could get here quickly. I’m sure it was a shock for both of you.”
“Hospital?” Megan stood very still, unable to think fast enough. His dad? Surgery?
“Well, yes, isn’t that why you . . . Megan, didn’t Bryant tell you?”
“No, he told me nothing, except—no, nothing.”
Pause.
“Oh. Wow, I really put my foot in it. I—um—well, the cat’s out of the bag now, although I don’t get why he didn’t say so.” Another pause. “Megan, I’m sorry to be the one to say it. Bryant’s dad is sick. He has a brain tumor, well, we just found out. He’s going in for surgery on Monday. It’s—”
Then she couldn’t speak and started crying. “I’m sorry—really, all this with Dad, and I’m eight months pregnant, and the little ones aren’t sleeping so it makes me hormonal and weepy all the time—really, I apologize.”
Megan’s knees began to buckle and she slid down the side of her bed to the floor. Waves of emotion passed through her. She had kept him selfishly here while his family needed him home. That was why he had been so angry, that’s why they had wanted him back. She felt sick and swallowed it down.
“Piper, I’m so sorry. If I had known, I would have told him to go home days ago. I didn’t know he was coming here at all.”
“I know. He wanted to surprise you. He’s so—I’ve never seen him so focused on someone before. But don’t feel pressure”—she laughed short through blowing her nose—“we’re just intense like that. Like me—hi, nice to meet you, here’s my life story.”
Megan wanted to reach through the phone and hug her. “Piper, I feel terrible I didn’t know. What can I do, how can I help? I feel so, so—”
“Helpless? I know, we all do. Just pray, Megan. We’re down to only that. We’ve got the best doctors, and Dad’s being a trooper, in his own way, though he despises hospitals. He’s only been in once before and that was an experience we all try to forget—Jakey, water stays outside. Anyway, there’s nothing more that can be done. I’m sorry to blubber, it just is what it is.”
“How’s your mother doing, if I can ask?”
“Mom’s great—she’s always great—just worn out, not like herself. But she’d go in and do the surgery herself if they’d let her, that’s the way she is. The rest of the family is coming down late Monday night, some of them Tuesday morning for a few days, so that’ll help. Except for feeding them. Johnsons like their food, let me tell you.” She sighed but tried to laugh.
That’s when Megan knew what she needed to do. It was clear and sharp, like the beach days on the cruise deck—blue sky, no clouds, full steam ahead.
“Piper, I have an idea. I really want to know if it’s okay but I think I could help—in a lot of ways—if you’ll let me.”
“Sounds mysterious. If it comes with a back massage, I’m all for it.”
Megan shared her plan and though at first unwilling, Piper eventually agreed. After hanging up, Megan showered, packed, told her mom the plan, and hopped in her car.
***
A green highway sign came into view—sixty miles to Channing, California. She had stopped at a roadside hotel and slept for four hours, then returned to driving. The sun peeked between two mountains and Megan checked the time—she would be at Piper’s in less than an hour. Megan felt excited at the prospect, at being able to help instead of hinder. She would be there for his family, but only as a friend. No strings attached. She would help Piper, be a nanny for a week while his sister took care of her dad and family, did books at the yard, and got a needed break.
Having cared for her nieces one summer, Megan looked forward to doing this, especially as a sort of penitence for Bryant being away from them while seeing her. She didn’t even know them and yet she was anxious to serve them. And though she and Piper had only spoken a short while, his sister’s warmth and genuineness had made her feel close to them already.
Initially, Piper had only agreed to have her come and be a support to Bryant, positively insisting o
n her staying with them. But Megan was determined to make up for being a distraction, and so difficult, though she hadn’t wanted to be. Throughout the conversation she had an insistent desire to be an extra pair of hands, to help cook, clean, babysit, whatever was needed to alleviate the stress. She remembered when her father had left and the load that had transferred to her mother. How it helped when neighbors stepped in to care for them. This was something she could do.
Megan shook her head, thinking of the past two days. Thank goodness for Sylvia and being used to the whole temp agency, last-minute lifestyle. And that they’d known each other for two years. She’d been good about letting Megan go, with a slight mischievous smile no less. But even with everything falling into place, Megan had no idea what to expect from Bryant. If he were truly hostile she might be making a 24-hour round trip.
Bryant. Despite the lengthy drive and time to think, Megan still couldn’t understand the hesitation within herself to fully commit to him. As she considered their best times—on the cruise ship, the excursions, at Zucker’s Pond—she could see the pattern: relaxed, open, connected. As soon as she froze, things got complicated. And yet, the coldness didn’t necessarily come from her. That gray doubt remained an obstacle to be dealt with.
But for now, she was clear about one thing—her role here and now was to serve. Whether Bryant would allow her to do it was something she’d find out.
***
Megan looked over at Piper’s home phone, at her own cell phone resting on the kitchen counter, then to the front picture window. Surgery had been at 10:00 a.m. this morning. Three hours and still no call, no word about how it had gone.
“Okay, you be red this time,” said Jakey. A tousled-headed five-year-old boy in worn jeans and a white T-shirt made car noises on the “Our Town” mat situated on the floor. The carpet mat was decorated with colored pictures of storefronts and parks and highways. Dozens of play trucks, cars, boats, and transportation vehicles were strewn over it.
“Sounds good. Or should I be the backhoe?” said Megan. “I saw some digging at the pond in the park.” He stopped, thinking this option through.
“Yeah, okay, I guess.” More car noises. “I’m going to the gas station and get me some gas.” He sped away with his car, making gas pumping sounds of dings and glugs.
Megan couldn’t help smiling, and wondering how she could feel so comfortable in a mere 24 hours. She’d yet to see Bryant, having arrived early Sunday morning, just in time to help a protesting Piper get her two children breakfast. After church—Bryant and his mother stayed home with his father at the house—it had been early supper and naptime all around. Later, Megan had insisted that she tend the children while the adults gathered at their parents’ home. Piper ultimately relented, grateful to process the emotions without having to worry about the kids.
Abruptly, Piper’s phone rang, bringing Megan back to the present. She stood up to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Megan, it’s Piper. We’re done and he’s doing so well. The whole thing went like clockwork,” she said, a tremor in her voice. “They’re certain the tumor isn’t cancerous, though they’re testing it to be sure—thank goodness for that. They’ve removed all they can find and said he should recover well as far as they can figure.”
“Piper, I’m so glad, I can’t tell you how wonderful that is to hear.” She hadn’t even met the man, and yet she truly felt it in her heart. Bryant must be so relieved.
“How are Jakey and Sarah?”
“Doing great. Sarah’s napping still and Jake and I are taking on the town.”
Piper laughed gently. It felt good to hear her sound lighter. “Thanks so much, Megan. It’s so funny, and please take this right, but I never let my children stay with complete strangers. It’s just that you don’t seem that strange to me.”
Megan laughed—yes, she was Bryant’s sister. “Well, you don’t know me yet. I’m sure Bryant can tell you a few things.” She stopped—she hadn’t meant to mention his name.
“Oh, I’m sure you’d love to hear what Bryant’s told us,” she said slyly into the phone. “And he says hello, though he has conspicuously said nothing about you. Which clearly means he can’t wait to see you. We’ll be coming home in a few hours. Thanks again for taking care of them and give them my love.”
“Will do, don’t worry about a thing,” said Megan. Hanging up, she felt relief—tangible and light—knowing not only that his father was well and the operation successful, but that Bryant didn’t despise her completely. Not yet.
After playing a while longer, Megan sat a just-awakened Sarah in the high chair and Jakey at the counter to stack Legos while she prepared a big batch of spaghetti. Just before dinnertime the door opened.
“Jakey buddy!” His father, Brandon, walked through the door, opening it wider for Piper.
“Daddy!” Jakey jumped off the counter stool and ran pell-mell, jumping into his father’s arms.
“Whoa, you’re getting so big, buddy,” said Brandon, a tall dark-haired man in his thirties with an easy smile. “Something smells good.”
“We made sgetti.”
Piper walked over to Megan. “You honestly don’t have to, Megan. Besides, you’re gonna make me look bad. It’s been a lot of tuna sandwiches and foraging from the sideboard lately.”
“I’m not eight months pregnant,” said Megan, nodding to Brandon. She felt a satisfaction in being there, being useful. “If you’re hungry, it’s ready. I just need to—”
A quick courtesy knock at the door and it opened further.
Bryant.
Megan turned back to the sink, reaching up to discreetly feel her suddenly warm face.
“Bry, where’s Mom?” said Piper.
“She’s still at the hospital. She sent me here.” Bryant defended himself. Megan could hear him taking off his jacket. “You know Mom. She said I was cranky—”
“—she’s got that right—”
“—and needed to rest, and they were just fine without me. Pete and Janelle are staying at the hospital with her. Denise and Robert are staying at the house for whoever might show up.”
Megan stayed unnecessarily busy preparing plates for the table. She plunked large dollops of noodles on the center and ladled generous portions of meaty tomato sauce on top. Piper and Brandon helped bring the dishes to the table. Bryant approached the counter.
“Need any help?”
Megan looked up at him, the first time she’d seen him since . . .
“You can take the salad, if you want.” She handed him the bowl. Their eyes met but his without any indication or feeling. If anything, there was a distinct coolness in his manner.
After saying grace, the table broke into the noisy sounds that a three- and five-year-old can make while being made to eat. Megan sat across from Bryant and ate mostly in silence, listening to them recount the surgery, the prognosis from here, and what remained to be done. The mood was upbeat. They had weathered the worst and the initial results were already more positive than they had hoped.
“Matthews is one of the best there is,” said Brandon. “He got all of it, and without traumatizing the rest of the brain. He’s amazing. Said that Dad should only need to stay a week or so.”
“That short? For brain surgery?” said Piper.
“Did you see Dad? Even drugged he already had movement in his mouth, which means his motor skills are looking good. Therapy and all that is supposed to start day after tomorrow.”
“They don’t waste any time,” said Piper, helping Sarah keep the spaghetti on her plate and not in her hair. She wriggled in her high chair to protest.
Reaching for her milk, Megan noticed Bryant staring at her, but he returned to his plate and cleaning its contents.
“This is really good, Piper,” said Bryant. “Is this another one of those crockpot things?”
“It is good, isn’t it,” said Piper, grinning. “Megan made it.”
Bryant looked up—Megan looked down.
&n
bsp; “So, everything good at the yard with Ross there right now? Got any plans for the week, Bry?” Piper said. The room went very still except for Sarah and Jakey’s noises. Megan noted that Brandon shook his head, smiling, as if to say, “Don’t meddle, sweetheart.”
“You know Ross, he always needs a hand,” said Bryant. “Spends more time on his backside and his cell phone than he does actually working.” He took another piece of bread. “It’ll work for when I’m at the hospital.”
“Now that Dad’s good, I’m gonna stay with the kids. Megan needs a break from being on Sesame Street, I think.”
Megan began to protest.
“Don’t even think about it. Bryant can show you around the yard tomorrow. You can get out and get some fresh air, then go see Dad.” Seeing Megan shake her head, Piper added, “The boss has spoken—and that’s me. If you don’t believe it, ask Brandon. Any woman in her eighth month is the boss. Isn’t that right, dear?”
“Whatever you say, sugar,” said Brandon, and winked at Megan. He whispered to her, “Got one word for you—hormones.”
Megan pushed noodles around with her fork, feeling Bryant’s stare between her and her sister, and hearing a slight chuckle in Piper’s voice as she spoke baby talk to Sarah.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Megan’s stomach churned as she tidied breakfast dishes with Piper who chatted amiably until Bryant arrived. At the last moment, Megan convinced Piper to let them take Jakey, whose favorite thing next to the Our Town mat was the lumber yard. Not only would it give Piper a break, but hopefully soften the situation. What would she even say to Bryant, to explain about her being here?
Bryant entered Piper’s doorway, his face set in a stoic expression. Megan swallowed down the feelings that immediately surfaced—sadness that he was done dealing with their relationship, angst for what she’d put him through, frustration that she couldn’t get over her emotional issues quicker, and longing to be with him like they used to be.
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