Peppermint Kiss

by Marian Snowe

Tia swiveled around and stared at Meg, her eyes wide and her mouth tight. “What right do you have to be mad at me?” she demanded in a low voice, as if she were worried about waking the kitten up. “As far as I’m concerned, you gave up that right when you cheated on me!”

  “I didn’t cheat,” Meg ground out. Her hands were shaking now. “I would never do that, and you know it. You never even bothered to ask me about it! You just—” Everything was pouring out now and there was no way to stop it. Maybe this fight had been inevitable from the moment Tia opened her door. Meg fluttered her hand in the air. “Poof, gone, phone number blocked. Three years together and you let one lousy rumor destroy everything we had!”

  “Rumor!” Tia scoffed, but her face was red. Meg couldn’t tell whether it was defensiveness or uncertainty that flickered through her expression. “Right! That was a little beyond just a rumor, Meg.”

  Meg shook her head and sucked in her lips. Tia was never going to even try to believe her. She wouldn’t give her as much as two minutes to say what really happened.

  “Fine,” she muttered, looking away. “Believe what you want. Why should I be able to change your mind after all this time? But don’t you tell me I’m not allowed to be angry, because the love of my life left me for no other reason than her own paranoia!”

  The silence rang between them and even the hissing and popping of the fire couldn’t make the room feel warm. Tia breathed out a scornful laugh and stood up.

  “I’m going to bed. Wake me up when he needs to be fed again and we’ll switch. You can have the couch.”

  Meg waited until she couldn’t hear Tia’s footsteps creaking on the old farmhouse’s floor before she let the tears fall. There was no hope. For a few moments, she thought maybe the years between their breakup and now were enough to let this be a somewhat civil conversation.

  I guess not. I should’ve just let sleeping dogs lie, Meg thought as she gently pet Spruce with her thumb and wiped tears off her cheeks with the other hand. Meet by some twist of (not) fate, save a kitten, re-open old wounds, resolve nothing, and go their separate ways again...

  It would be the biggest missed opportunity in the history of missed opportunities, but “opportunity” implied some level of hope, and there was none. At least passing it up wouldn’t hurt as much as trying to convince Tia she was wrong.

  Chapter Five

  Tia

  Tia didn’t sleep well, but she did sleep, because when she groggily sat up in bed, the sun was filtering in through her curtains. She rubbed her eyes and ran her fingers through her tangly hair.

  She couldn’t get Meg out of her head all night; the woman crept in and out of Tia’s dreams and made it impossible to rest. And yet, Meg hadn’t come to wake her up and change kitten-feeding shifts like she asked.

  After the argument they had, Tia wasn’t exactly surprised. Her stomach burned when she remembered it. Meg showing up on her doorstep was the pinnacle of weird in a series of weird changes in her life right now, but she’d meant to keep a level head about it and skate through the encounter as quickly as possible. Nothing more than a blip on her first strange Christmas at the Collins farm.

  So much for that now.

  All night she’d been trying not to think about Meg’s stricken face when Tia got all snippy with her. She didn’t want to think about the fact that Meg let her sleep all night, either out of (undeserved) kindness or fear of having to talk to her again. And she absolutely didn’t want to think about Meg’s claim that she was innocent.

  “Rumor,” Tia muttered mockingly. “It’s not a ‘rumor’ when your best friend is the one to rat you out.”

  Rumors are something you hear thirdhand or fourthand or fifthhand, through people who wouldn’t know the truth. But Meg’s best friend and roommate, Faith, would know better than anyone—even Tia, who lived off-campus—what Meg was up to at any time of the day.

  Her TA in Advanced French had been what Meg was “up to.” And Tia was sure they’d gotten up to more than advanced frenching.

  Tia didn’t want to hear excuses. She didn’t want to hear “I was so stressed” or “You were neglecting me” or “It just happened.” An explanation never helped; it only eased the culprit’s conscience. Tia didn’t have any time for that.

  She ventured into the living room to find Meg just setting down an empty bottle and wiping the kitten’s little mouth with a corner of a towel. His belly was round from all the milk, and Tia’s ire eased a bit. It was hard to be really spiteful around a kitten.

  “You didn’t wake me up,” Tia said and hoped she sounded concerned and not accusing. She went on when Meg didn’t say anything. “Did you get any sleep at all?”

  Meg shrugged. “It’s no biggie. Can you take me home? I’m sure the house is warmed up enough to be safe for Spruce by now.”

  Tia started to say something but she hesitated. Safe for Spruce? Meg was taking him, then? After all that at the vet about Tia taking him in?

  She gazed down at the kitten rolling lazily around on a blanket Meg had pulled off the back of the couch for him. Obviously he’d be going home with Meg. Tia didn’t know how to take care of a kitten. But thinking about what the house would be like after they left... Meg and Spruce had been here for barely twelve hours and already Tia felt a little sick at the thought of them being gone.

  What is wrong with you? Tia demanded fiercely in her thoughts. The sooner she gets out, the better!

  “What about the hole?” Tia asked Meg anyway. “The broken window?”

  “I’ll just shut the laundry room door and block any drafts with towels until I can get someone out to replace it.” Meg carefully bundled Spruce into the carrier, never once making eye contact with Tia.

  Tia sighed. “Okay. I’ll get your coat.”

  She brought Meg’s winter gear over while Meg put the bottles, kitten milk replacer, and everything else the vet had given them into a bag. Meg had dark circles under her eyes and her hair was almost entirely out of the braid it had been in. She looked worn out beyond belief. Tia was hit with a sudden memory of the way Meg would look after pulling an all-nighter in college, working on a term paper after being at theater rehearsal until three in the morning.

  After a night like that, they’d skip the dining hall and go downtown to this delightfully scummy little place that served greasy french fries and strange Frankenstein-style sandwiches and the best vanilla shakes you ever tasted. They’d both be extra silly with lack of sleep. Those were some of Tia’s favorite times with Meg, and some of the memories that hurt her the worst after it all ended.

  “Shit, you haven’t had anything to eat since yesterday, have you?” Tia asked when the mental image of them sharing a Shirley Temple at 5:00 a.m. struck her.

  Meg shrugged her shoulders again, but she chewed on her lip in dismay. “I didn’t check my parents’ house for food,” she said. “They probably have dry stuff in the cabinets. And I can just run out to the grocery store after I get Spruce settled in.”

  “I’m at least taking you to a drive-through before I drop you off,” Tia decided. Meg looked up at her with an expression that was somewhere between wary and relieved.

  “Thanks.”

  The ride into town was silent except for Spruce’s high-pitched, pathetic wailing. Now that he wasn’t so dazed by cold and the vet visit, he obviously realized how much he hated car rides.

  Tia was so on edge she thought she might rattle to pieces whenever the car went over a bump. This was all so surreal she kept wondering if she might be dreaming. Maybe she’d been knocked out when that tree fell on her... Yeah, that made more sense than Meg Bartlett actually sitting in her car with a kitten in her lap after spending the night at Tia’s house.

  When Tia pulled into the Dunkin’ Donuts, she was on autopilot. She rolled her window down and said to the intercom, without pausing to think first, “We’ll have a vanilla chai, a strawberry-frosted doughnut, a cinnamon roll, and a bacon, egg, and cheese on a multigrain bagel...”

  Tia tra
iled off with her mouth open and she swung her eyes around to Meg. Unthinkingly, she’d given them the standard Dunkin’ Donuts order she and Meg always got together in college.

  “Uh, wait a sec,” she called to the cashier. Then she said to Meg, “I’m sorry, I didn’t even... Is that what you want?”

  Meg watched her with a tight expression. Tia couldn’t read it. Was she weirded out? Offended?

  “I drink dark roast now. With mocha, please.” She paused and looked away, into her lap. “The sandwich is fine.”

  Tia relayed her order to the cashier, her face flaming. How could she let herself just stumble back into the past like that? It was like Meg’s presence sapped every ounce of common sense out of her.

  After Tia paid—she was afraid that would start another argument, but Meg capitulated—she handed over the food and continued the short drive to Meg’s parents’ house.

  Their goodbye was even more awkward than the car ride had been, if that were possible. Tia parked in the driveway and Meg unclipped her seat belt.

  “Do you need help carrying things?” Tia asked, and Meg shook her head quickly.

  “No, I’m good.” She got out of the car and shouldered the bag of kitten supplies before picking up Spruce’s carrier. Then she paused as if she was caught in indecision.

  “Bye, Spruce,” Tia said, stilted.

  “Thanks for your help,” Meg told her in a voice that was a little too lifeless to be sarcastic, but only just. This was so uncomfortable that Tia wanted to shrivel up.

  “Yeah.” Tia sighed. “Um... Take care.”

  Meg threw her a look that said she didn’t believe Tia’s sincerity for a moment. Tia cringed and put the car in reverse just as Meg closed the passenger-side door.

  Tia waited to make sure Meg got in the house. That was another habit she found herself unconsciously falling into: since Tia lived off campus when they were dating, she had a car and would often drive Meg home when they went out. She always waited to make sure Meg safely got into the key-card-locked dorm building before leaving.

  Tia thunked her forehead into the steering wheel. Okay, that was it. This was over. She could put it behind her and go on with her wood-sawing, tree-selling life.

  But all she could see when she closed her eyes was Meg’s face, her gentle smile as she played with Spruce, and how gutted she looked when Tia brought up the cheating. It had been nearly twenty years since they parted, and in a matter of hours Meg already consumed Tia’s thoughts.

  It wasn’t just Meg’s expressive eyes or her tempting lips, either. What she said during their argument last night rang in Tia’s ears.

  One lousy rumor.

  Her own paranoia.

  Did Meg seriously think she’d believe something like that? That Tia was the one at fault? After Meg cheated on her?

  A shiver of dread traveled up her back as she started the drive home. Meg didn’t deny it at the time. But then again, had Tia really given her the chance to?

  She shook her head sharply. Doubting all of this now would mean doubting...well, countless decisions she’d made after she and Meg broke up.

  But now that the seed was planted, the idea grasped Tia more and more tightly. Meg said she didn’t cheat. Tia never once entertained the idea that she hadn’t.

  If she was wrong...

  “There’s no way of knowing now,” Tia muttered when she got out of the car at the farmhouse. There were already a few people in the tree lot looking at Christmas trees to buy. Tia helped them pick out trees and for an hour, at least, she was distracted.

  The minute she was alone again, though, the question fell on her like a sack of lead.

  Was Meg telling the truth? And what was Tia supposed to do if she was?

  “We’re not going to see each other again,” Tia said to nobody. “It doesn’t matter whether it happened or not. The past is the past.”

  She ate her cinnamon roll and tried to do a few chores, but she ended up just pensively wandering here and there with a laundry basket or a handful of kitchen utensils to put away, playing over everything Meg said last night and everything she remembered.

  It had been the most stressful semester of Tia’s life, even before all this happened. The professor of her most important class was a real hard-ass and made her redo countless papers. If she didn’t get her final paper perfect the first time, he would never give her a passing grade.

  Then when Faith told her where Meg had been all those times they couldn’t get together to study, she shattered. It was all she needed to completely crumble. She managed to pass that godforsaken class...

  But she lost the woman she thought she’d spend her life with.

  Tia put down a stack of towels and groaned, ruffling her hair with her hands. This was unbearable. After all this time, how could she just trust Meg’s word without question?

  Maybe if it wasn’t just Meg’s word...

  Tia went to her desk and opened her laptop. She logged onto Facebook and tapped her fingers against the desk’s surface, thinking. Faith, Faith... What had her last name been?

  Tia hit on it after a few moments of racking her brains and searched. There: the woman in the user photo was still recognizable, just like Meg was.

  Her account was public, so Tia scrolled through a couple of posts. As she did, her heart sank into her stomach.

  There were a lot of photos with inspirational quotes, the kind people reposted into oblivion, which shouldn’t be that concerning, right? But Faith’s all had a decided theme, and that theme was honesty.

  It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are, said e. e. cummings, apparently. No legacy is so rich as honesty, said Shakespeare. And this Mother Teresa quote graced more than one picture of a sunrise on Faith’s wall: Honesty and transparency make you vulnerable. Be honest and transparent anyway.

  Tia tried to keep her breathing measured even though her muscles were getting tenser by the minute. Those things were pretty standard, weren’t they? Quotes about being authentic didn’t prove anything. But she kept scrolling, and with every mention of “loving who I am now,” her dread rose.

  In between posts about kids and pictures of a beagle, Faith had written several posts about how good it felt to mend relationships she’d messed up in the past. One in particular made Tia’s blood run cold:

  It’s been hard to make amends for the way I hurt her, the post said, seemingly referring to one of Faith’s cousins. But I’m proud of myself for taking responsibility. I like who I am now, and that means I don’t need lies to keep friends.

  Tia felt sick. She had to be jumping to conclusions, seeing patterns where there weren’t any.

  Or, conversely, she was in denial. That was way more likely. This was everything Tia didn’t want to see.

  She swore under her breath and ran her hands down her face. People talked about earth-shattering revelations, and she could see this one like a boulder perched on the edge of a cliff above her.

  It was a possibility—a damn good one, she forced herself to recognize—that Meg had been telling the truth and never cheated on her. And for Tia to have reacted that way, to cut Meg off completely, then to destroy her relationship with Dani because she was so afraid to be hurt again...

  She’d lost herself too.

  Still cursing, Tia clicked on the Direct Message link on Faith’s page. If Faith was so gung-ho about honesty, she’d welcome the opportunity to clear this up, right?

  Before she could chicken out of it, Tia shot off a message: Hi Faith, it’s been a really long time, but this is Tia Collins from college. This is a really weird question, but I just ran into Meg for the first time since we broke up, and can I ask you something?

  Tia hit “send” and dropped her head back so she was staring at the ceiling. “I can’t believe this is happening!” she moaned.

  She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or to freak out entirely when Faith messaged back only a minute or two later.

  Tia, it’s been too long! Please, go ahea
d. I’ve always wanted to talk to you about what happened when you and Meg broke up.

  Tia squeezed her eyes shut. Always wanted to? “Then why didn’t you?!” she shouted, then counted to ten and typed: Okay, thanks. Can I give you a call? Or here’s my number and you can call me.

  She sent her number and then waited in an agony of nerves for her phone to ring. When it did, she dived for it and went over to the couch to sit somewhere more comfortable for what promised to be a doozy of a conversation.

  “Hi Faith,” Tia said with a passable imitation of casualness. “How’ve you been?”

  “A lot has happened since college,” Faith said on the other end of the line. It gave Tia an odd little shiver to hear her voice again. This brought her back in a way she didn’t like.

  “Yeah.”

  “So, you ran into Meg?” Faith asked. There was sympathy in her voice and it irritated Tia, but she tried to push that down.

  “She came to Elliot Creek to see her parents for Christmas. I moved back here recently.”

  “Seeing her must’ve been really awkward.”

  “You don’t know the half of it,” Tia grumbled. She wanted to add If you hadn’t lied about her cheating, it wouldn’t have been awkward at all.

  But she was getting ahead of herself. Maybe Faith wouldn’t say what Tia was expecting her to say.

  “So you wanted to talk to me about something, right?” Faith asked. Tia got the impression that she knew exactly what that was but didn’t say it, and Tia felt even more annoyed.

  “Yeah,” Tia replied. “I saw the posts on your Facebook about...” It was still uncomfortable to accuse her, even if Faith did leave the door a little bit open. “About honesty. And taking responsibility. What I want—need—to ask you is...” She swallowed. “Did you make it up when you said Meg was cheating on me?”

  There was a silence on the other end, and Tia thought her heart would beat right through her ribcage. Tell me! She yelled in her head. Put your money where your mouth is and tell me!

  “Yes,” Faith said finally. Tia felt a little lightheaded but she leaned forward and put her elbows on her knees. “It wasn’t the truth.”