“Let me talk to Megan and see how she feels about you taking over the lease on her place. If she’s into it, I’ll call the landlord.”
“Wha—”
“She’s already said she doesn’t want to come back here. And I know Rob would want someone responsible and mature here.” Her eyes twinkled again.
“Let me take care of this, okay?”
I stared at her. “I don’t know what to say.”
“How about ‘thank you’?” She released my hand.
I smiled. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” She started moving toward the door. “Okay, I’m going home. Megan and I will be able to start moving into the new place in a couple of days. I’ll let you know what’s happening.”
“You okay with Hillary there?”
Melissa paused at the door and looked back at me.
“She’s in Santa Fe until I move out.”
“I’ll see you later, then.”
“Yes. You will.” She flashed a grin and exited, shutting the door quietly behind her. I watched her walk down the walkway toward the street and this time, I felt peace.
I BRACED THE flaps of another box of Megan’s books with my knee and reached for the tape. Melissa was in the bedroom, helping Megan finish up with the closet and bathroom. I heard them talking, bantering back and forth about some of Megan’s goofier Tshirts.
“Hey, nothing wrong with ‘Hello Kitty,’ ” I called from the living room as I finished up the box.
“Thank you, Kase,” Megan hollered back, a giggle in her voice.
“Though I myself prefer the Powerpuff Girls,” I added before I moved the box near the front door.
Megan appeared in the doorway to the bedroom suddenly. “Buttercup, right?”
I looked at her and grinned. “Of course. I could see you as Bubbles. Everybody thinks you’re a pushover but you have a spine of steel. And you can totally kick ass.”
A shadow crossed her face. “Thanks,” she said softly.
“I’m going to order a pizza for dinner,” Melissa interrupted as she gently eased past Megan. “Any requests?”
“Pepperoni and green chile.” Megan took the phone book out of one of the boxes I hadn’t sealed yet. “You’re too efficient,” she teased me. “Wait ’til we eat. And I’ll order. Papa John’s okay?”
Melissa and I voted in the affirmative and I flopped onto the couch while Megan dialed and began placing the order. She wandered into the kitchen.
“You guys want anything to drink?”
“No,” Melissa said. She wasn’t a big fan of soft drinks and that’s pretty much what Papa John’s offered.
“No, thanks,” I agreed. “I’ve got tea in the fridge.”
Megan finished the order and joined Melissa and me in the living room. She sat down next to me.
Melissa watched us for a bit then returned to the bedroom. I reached over and squeezed Megan’s knee as I stood up. “Gotta finish these books, kiddo.” I caught myself. “Shit, I’m sorry. You’re not a kid anymore. I keep doing that.”
She smiled. “I don’t mind.”
In the ten days since Megan had “rejoined the world,” as Sage called it, I’d been trying to figure out how to interact with her. She wasn’t ready to talk about much with regard to Cody and the Rats, and I didn’t press her. She managed to provide a lot of information useful to law enforcement, but I knew she needed to do some soul-sifting about the more personal aspects of her experience. I turned back to the shelves, thinking that I needed to say a few things to her, as well. A lump formed in my throat.
“You set up an appointment with that counselor yet?” I kept my eyes on my task, which involved filling another empty box with the last of the books from her living room shelves.
“Yep. Day after tomorrow.”
“Good.” I heard Melissa doing something in the bedroom closet. I stopped packing and turned to look at Megan. No time like the present. “I’m really sorry,”
I blurted.
She looked up at me, puzzled. “For what?”
“I bailed on you, when Melissa and I broke up. I let you down. And I’m so sorry.” Tears stung my eyes.
“Hey,” she said as she stepped over a box and hugged me. “You were in a lot of pain and did what you thought you had to do. I should have tried to talk to you, too.”
Tears slid down my cheeks. “I’m sorry,” I whispered again. “I wish I could do that over, that whole leaving thing.”
“Stop. It’s done and you’re here now.” She held on to me and it was the fifty-year-old Megan, the one much too wise for her years, the one who had seen way too much before she turned eighteen. “Not like I learned much, either. Dating an asshole like that.”
I laughed a little and wiped my eyes as Melissa appeared in the doorway to the bedroom. She hesitated, uncertain.
“Group hug,” Megan said, reaching out to Melissa. “Come on,” she pressed. “Even uptight big sisters should get in on the action.”
Melissa started to say something, thought better of it, and instead joined the hug.
“There. Doesn’t everyone just feel better?” Megan pulled away, smiling, and flopped onto the couch.
I wiped my eyes again, glad Melissa was crying, too. She rubbed her face with the hem of her T-shirt.
“Thanks,” she said softly before returning to the bedroom. I cleared my throat and continued putting books in the box I was working on. It was a start to better days. Hopefully.
“I submitted the transfer paperwork,” Megan said after a few minutes.
I stopped again. She regarded me from her position on the couch, one leg drawn up underneath her. She looked so thin. Like a ghost in so many ways.
But unlike when she came out of rehab, she seemed solid and grounded, somehow. “That’s great news.
When will you hear?”
“Pretty soon, I guess.”
I put another book in the box. “There shouldn’t be any problem. Your grades are great. What will you do this fall?”
“I’ll take some time and go to Eugene to find a place to live.” She laughed softly. “Listen to me.
Assuming the U of Oregon’ll let me in!”
“Of course they will,” Melissa said from the doorway. “K.C.’s right. You have good grades and good recommendations.”
Megan nodded slowly. “I think, though, I’ll probably move in with my cousins.” She stopped and I glanced at her. “I don’t really want to be alone for a while.” She looked over at Melissa, whose jaw tightened.
“Hey, if you’re not ready for that, then don’t worry about it. All in good time.” I smiled at Megan then at Melissa, worried that Melissa was going to say something big-sisterly that would annoy Megan and ruin the bonding moment we’d all just shared. “Just make sure you vacuum over at Melissa’s and take her shit to the cleaners and seal that tile so she knows you’re not just sitting on your butt eating bon-bons and watching soaps all day while you’re living with her.”
Megan laughed and Melissa relaxed. She flashed a relieved expression at me. Megan got up and followed Melissa back into the bedroom. I finished with the box and looked up as the pizza delivery man appeared.
Melissa raced past me to pay him and we camped out on the living room floor, the pizza box on the coffee table along with three bottles of Tazo. A picnic, Megan used to call meals like this when Melissa and I were still together. She’d get so excited, like pizza while sitting on the living room floor was the coolest thing ever. I looked at her, and she was fourteen again as she reached for a piece of pizza and threw a piece of chile at Melissa. Strange, how things changed but stayed the same somehow.
A car door slammed from the street. Melissa looked out through the wide-open front door as Chris approached.
“Hey,” she announced, pulling her sunglasses off when she stepped inside.
“Hola, mujer,” I greeted her. “Grab a piece.”
“Tempting. But I just ate. How’s it going?”
�
��Finer than frog’s hair, as Grandpa says.” I stood up and went to get Chris an iced tea out of the fridge.
I handed it to her and she sat down on the couch next to Megan, across from me and Melissa. She shook it up and opened it, then took a long drink.
“Okay. Would you like an update?” Chris addressed Megan, who nodded for her to continue.
She then glanced over at Melissa.
“Yes, actually,” she agreed.
“All right.” Chris took a breath. “Those two who got injured in the raid are singing like birds, as is the gentleman Megan and K.C. know as ‘Timmy.’ We’ve got enough weapons and bomb-making stuff out of that place to get some federal charges to stick. Mr.
Sorrell—” Chris glanced at Megan, who reached for another piece of pizza. “—is still being held here.
Timmy says he and Watkins set up the Talbot murder but the trigger man is some drifter from northern California who has peripheral dealings with the movement. Apparently, Talbot got cold feet about what they were up to and was going to go to the cops.
He didn’t get the chance.”
“Where is the trigger man now?” I asked, reaching for a napkin. Fucker.
Chris shook her head. “We’ve got a big net out for him. He’s wanted for assault back there, so he’s in a few databases. Timmy also told us that Watkins was planning to blow the courthouse here in town. That’s what the ‘something big’ was that you kept hearing about, Megan.”
“I figured it was something like that. But they never mentioned it specifically.” She took a sip from her bottle. Her voice sounded tight.
Chris put a hand on her shoulder. “I can stop,”
she said quietly.
“No.” Megan addressed Chris though she was looking at Melissa. “I need to hear it.”
Chris glanced at me and continued. “No word on Watkins. Yet.”
Megan’s jaw clenched.
“Hey, he’ll surface,” I said quickly. “He’s really pissed now, which actually plays in our favor because he’ll make a mistake. And guys like that like to be visible in the movement.”
“K.C.’s right,” Chris agreed. “He’ll turn up. And the heat’s on now because he’s wanted for federal weapons violations and plotting his own version of Oklahoma City.”
I didn’t say what I knew Chris was thinking.
Watkins’s background in an abusive household meant he probably had problems with women, which might translate into blaming Megan in particular for spilling information, though Timmy was actually the one who provided all the main details of Watkins’s plans.
Melissa was suddenly extremely engrossed in her pizza. Megan chewed quietly. If Watkins showed up and started messing with Megan again, I would personally start an end-times war on his ass.
“We’ll get him.” Chris squeezed Megan’s shoulder again. She finished her tea and stood. “I have to get going.”
“I do, as well.” Melissa got to her feet. “Megan, do you want to come with me or—”
“I’ll come with you.” She stood and started cleaning off the coffee table.
I got up and glanced at my watch. Nearly eight.
Sage was due back from Santa Fe in an hour and we were going to load the car for a camping trip the next day to what New Mexicans called “The Gila,” a wilderness in the mid-southwestern part of the state, known for its mystical qualities and natural hot springs. I was really looking forward to it.
Chris set her empty bottle on the kitchen counter.
“Oh, I ran into Gus yesterday,” she said, directing the comment at me as she returned to the living room.
“He wanted me to tell you thanks again for talking to him and providing copies of your notes. He said he could get you in on the consulting gig if you’re interested. He’ll be giving you a call in couple of days to try to tempt you.” She smiled. “It’d be great if you moved back.”
“What, so you can drag me along on your adventures?”
“Oh, so it’s my fault, now?” She started laughing.
“Kiss my ass, Fontero.”
“Yeah, you’d like that,” I retorted, smiling.
“Excuse me,” Melissa interrupted. We both looked at her, sheepish. “Ladies, as much as I’d love to encourage your conversation,” she teased, “I’d prefer to invite you both—and Sage as well—to a celebration at the new house on Saturday.” She poked me in the arm. “Have you decided when you’ll be going back to Austin?”
“Clearly after Saturday,” I said, grinning.
Chris shot me a look that said we need to talk.
Melissa smiled. “Good. Don’t worry about food or drinks. And we’ll probably be able to finish up here tomorrow. Thanks.”
“Sure. I’ll lock up.”
She turned to Chris then. “I know we haven’t talked much recently, but I meant what I said at the hospital. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all you did for me and Megan. And for keeping Kase safe. It means more to me than I’ll ever be able to express.”
Chris looked down at her feet, then back up.
Compliments made her uncomfortable. “You’re welcome.” She looked at the floor again.
Melissa hugged both me and Chris and stepped back. “Megan, I’ll meet you at the car.” Melissa headed out the door and down the walk.
“Don’t worry about that,” I called to Megan in the kitchen. “I’ll clean up.”
She joined us in the living room. “You sure?”
“Yeah. Go get some more sleep. Rent a movie.
Hang out. Enjoy yourself.” I gave her a big hug.
“Thanks. I’ll see you in a couple of days. I think I want to talk a little more.”
“Definitely. Call me and we’ll grab dinner or something.” I kissed her on the cheek. She’d call me, I knew. And I also knew she had a few things she wanted to say to me, as an adult. She released me and hugged Chris before following Melissa. Chris and I watched her until she reached the curb.
Chris turned to regard me. “What’s up, esa?”
“In terms of what?” I tried to sound innocent, though I had a million different things flying through my head.
“You know exactly what I mean.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Fuck, Chris. I have so much shit I’m trying to figure out. There’s this shit with Megan, there’s trying to move beyond Melissa—and it’s weird, because I almost feel like I’m a co-parent for Megan. But she’s not a kid anymore. But she is. It’s—weird. I’m having a hard time negotiating that.”
She cocked her head. “And?” Her tone told me that she was only buying part of my rambling.
I shoved my hands in my pockets. “I have to go back to Texas at some point. I have to figure out what I’m doing and check in and mundane, boring shit that comes with academic obligations. A lot of my life is there right now.” I trailed off, realizing that it sounded like excuses, and that my heart wasn’t in it.
She raised an eyebrow, an “oh, really?”
expression. “That’s not true. Most of your life has been here. Texas was an escape. You’ve never really settled there. So now you have a chance to come home. What are you going to do?”
I chewed on my lower lip, trying to make some sense of all the crazy things that had happened in the past couple of weeks.
She interrupted my thoughts, worry in her dark eyes. “Kase, are you running?”
“In what sense?”
“Going back to Texas—are you using that as an excuse to avoid anything deeper with Sage?”
“God, no. But I am trying to be mature. I mean, Jesus, I did take Megan’s place on her lease for a bit.”
And there was always the possibility that Sage might think that was too forward. Shit.
“Have you talked to her?”
“Every damn day.” I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated. “She knows I don’t want to go back.
Christ, I don’t want to go. I miss New Mexico. I’ve missed it every day since I left. But I got the post-doc in
Texas. And besides, Sage might think I’m being way too clingy or something. I worry about that, too.”
“You think too much,” she said, a little smile on her lips.
I shot her a “yeah, and?” look.
“Get out of your damn head.” She ruffled my hair. “You do your research here for the fall semester.
Then you go back to Texas to finish out the post-doc.
Then you come back here. Gus could set you up with something. And Mark would definitely put in a word for you. Law enforcement uses outside consultants all the time these days, especially in terms of what you do.” She smiled, smug. “You know I’m right. And you know you can’t resist me.”
I rolled my eyes. “Detective Goddess, over here.”
“And I know you’ve already checked into this. I know how you are.”
“Dammit,” I muttered. “And you know I hate it when you’re right. Okay, so American Studies at UNM might be interested in setting me up with something.”
“Uh huh. As I suspected. Even in the midst of your freak-outs, you’re still trying to analyze.” She air-kissed me. “But it’s one of the many things I love about you.”
“Oh, of course,” I said, smiling. “But still, whatever happens, I don’t think I’ll be here until next summer.”
“That’s plenty of time to get something here. And you can always live with me until you do. If Sage won’t put up with you, I can for a bit.”
“Excuse me? Put up with me?”
She punched me lightly on the shoulder. “So for real. How do you feel about her?”
I shook my head, a huge grin on my face. “It’s bad, amiga. It’s bad.”
She smiled again, but it was wistful. “I’m really happy for you. I can’t say I won’t miss certain things between us. But I want the best for you. So don’t be estupida.”
“Well, I want the best for you. Since that’s not me...” I grinned, leaving the statement unfinished.
“This really isn’t that hard, oh great scholar. She’s good for you and you know it. Yeah, you have a few things to take care of in Texas, but so what? You’ll be done there soon and then—” she shrugged, a “see how it goes” motion. “Don’t let the past determine your future.”
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