Megan's Way (5 page)

Megan was taken aback, silent.

“Uh-huh. I heard you in the bathroom before
dinner the other night.” Olivia’s eyes bored into her mother’s
back, bony and small, as she moved around the kitchen.

“Oh, honey, I just didn’t feel well.” Megan
stared out the window, unwilling to let Olivia see the sadness in
her eyes. “Mom! You can tell me, you know. I can take it if you’re
sick again.” Olivia stood up as her voice grew louder, harsher. She
couldn’t stop her lower lip from trembling or the tears from
flowing. “It’s like all of a sudden you don’t tell me anything! You
don’t even spend time with me! What’s going on, Mom?” Her screams
landed hard and cutting in Megan’s ears.

“Honey,” Megan turned to face Olivia,
noticing for the first time how, when she was angry, her eyes saw
right through her own, just like Olivia’s father’s. “I’ve just been
busy, honey. You have to live your life and stop worrying about me.
I’m fine, just fine.” She reached out to put her arms around
Olivia, but Olivia shook her off, and stormed out of the room.

“Whatever!” Olivia yelled. “Why are you
allowed to lie to me, and I’m not allowed to lie to you?”

Olivia’s next sentence exploded in Megan’s
ears like a bomb, though it was spoken no louder than a whisper,
“No wonder I don’t have a father!”

Megan slumped down onto the hard kitchen
chair and let the tears roll down her cheeks. She jumped when
Olivia’s bedroom door slammed shut.

As the sun set, Megan hesitated in front of
Olivia’s room, perched to knock. She heard Olivia typing on her
keyboard, thought better of it, and padded softly down the hall to
her own room. She marched directly into her bathroom, took the
seven dwarfs from their bottles, and squeezed them until her
knuckles were white. She held her breath and threw them into her
mouth. Tears streaked her cheeks as she filled up a cup of water,
and brought it to her lips. She shut her eyes tight, preparing for
the awful taste of the medicine as it slid down her throat. She
lifted the glass and swirled the seven dwarfs and the water around
in her mouth. A tortured wail came from deep within her. She turned
and spat the wet, sticky pills into the toilet, and sunk back onto
her heels, moaning in desperation.
What the hell am I doing? Am
I really saving Olivia months of pain or creating more pain for
her? I know I have to let her go, but I feel like I’m killing her
along with me!

“Holly, I’m worried about her. What can I do
to make her understand that she needs to
live
her life?”
Megan spoke quietly into the phone, though she was sure that Olivia
was already asleep. The clock glowed red in the dark room,
twelve-forty A.M.

“Meggie, she’s a teenager. She’ll be fine.
Remember how we were? We were always pitching fits at our parents.
She’s totally normal.” Holly’s voice was gentle and sweet.

Megan’s body relaxed. She sighed, taking
comfort in her friend’s words. “I know, but she’s really mad at me
this time. It’s like she’s giving up on me or something. It can’t
end like this.”

Holly hesitated. “What do you mean, ‘end like
this’?” she asked, suddenly aware of each word Megan spoke.

Megan recovered quickly and said, “The fight.
We never go to bed mad at each other. She stayed in her room all
night. She never said goodnight and didn’t even come down for
dessert, and you know how we are about our desserts.” Megan curled
her legs under her body and rested her head on her feather pillow.
“She’s always on that damn computer when she’s mad.”

“Give it time, Meg. Really, just give it
time. She’s just using the instant messenger that all the kids use
these days. It’s like the new telephone.” Holly took a deep breath,
“More importantly, when’s your next doctor’s appointment?”

“Oh, I’ll have to check,” Megan lied.

“I thought you went like every three weeks or
something. Did that change?”

“No, I still go, but it’s been so crazy with
the mural deadline and all that, I just can’t remember the exact
date.” Megan took a deep breath and feigned a yawn, “Hol, I need to
get some sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow. Thank you for listening to
me vent,” she smiled, “and for making me feel better.”

“No problem. Olivia will be fine, mark my
word. Love you,” Holly said.

“Love you too, Hol.” Megan hung up the phone
and lay on her thick down comforter. She stared at the ceiling and
thought of all the things in her life that she needed to get in
order. Lists ran through her head of legal, household, and other
items that would need closure. She was surprised at how calm she
felt. She didn’t feel as though she were in a frenzy of fear.
Instead, she felt like she was doing a job, organizing someone
else’s life.

Olivia grew angrier as the week progressed.
Days passed, silent and uncomfortable. Megan was too upset to
paint. She was reading on the couch when Olivia arrived home from
school.

“Hi,” Megan said cheerfully.

Olivia strutted past her mother and ignored
her greeting.

The space between them was thick with
tension.

Olivia walked past the fireplace in the
family room, out the back door, and sat on the porch, stewing.
Anger coursed through her veins, but sadness lingered just below.
If her mother was sick again, then she was wasting precious time
being mad, but that didn’t matter right then. What mattered was
making her mother see that she needed to be honest, that she needed
to treat Olivia the way she demanded Olivia treat her. After all,
wasn’t that what she always preached?
Be honest so you don’t
have to keep up with your own lies
.

Olivia took a deep breath of the salty sea
air. Her body grew rigid when she heard the French doors open.
Megan sat in the pastel-colored Adirondack chair beside her.

“It’s nice out here, huh?” Megan was again
met with Olivia’s silence. “Maybe we should eat dinner outside
tonight.” Megan ran her eyes along the perimeter of tall pines that
surrounded the small yard and created a tranquil, private sanctuary
for her and Olivia. She took in the gardens that they had spent
years digging and planting together, until the tiger lilies, lady
slippers, and Morning glories were placed just so. She loved how
the wild roses grew in misbehaving clumps at the edges, where the
mixture of sand and dirt met the few bits of grass that grew
sparsely throughout the Cape.

Olivia turned her face away from her mother
and gritted her teeth.

“Honey, I know you are mad at me, but can’t
we just be friends again?” Megan asked.

Olivia remained silent.

“Okay. Well, if you want to be mad, that’s
fine, but I’m not going to play this game.” Megan rose, and turned
toward the doors.

Olivia turned to say something, and noticed
again how skinny her mother was, which further angered and scared
her. “Whatever,” slipped from her lips like a secret as tears
welled in her eyes.

“I’m going out tonight,” anger seethed in
Olivia’s voice.

“Where are you going?” Megan asked as she
picked at her dinner.

“Out.”

“With who?” Megan skipped over Olivia’s
attitude, happy that her daughter was finally going to do something
other than skulk around the house or hide out in her bedroom.

“Kids from school,” Olivia said, “they’re
picking me up.” She sat, stiff and rebellious, at the table in the
kitchen. “Who?” Megan asked a little more sternly, uneasy with

Olivia’s terse answers.

“People!” Olivia yelled, standing abruptly,
her rigid arms at her side, fists clenched . “Why does it matter?
You’re always telling me to go out, and now I’m going! geez!”
Olivia picked up her dishes, clanked them into the sink, then
stomped upstairs.

“Holly, it’s ten at night, on a school
night!” Megan complained into the telephone receiver.

“Meg, she’s only doing what you asked her to
do. You should be happy.”

“I know, but she never goes anywhere, and
suddenly she’s out until all hours.”

“I wouldn’t call ten o’clock all hours,”
Holly said. “Remember us? now that was all hours!” she laughed.

“Yeah, well god forbid she does what we did.
Thanks, by the way, for the visual.” Megan’s voice was rushed,
strained. Her stomach hurt, and she was worried sick about Olivia,
who had been so angry at her for the past week that god only knew
what she’d do.

Megan awoke with a feeling of dread. She
couldn’t place it, but it loomed in the air like a bad dream. Her
stomach was on fire. The clock next to the couch chimed.
Midnight
, she vaguely acknowledged. Then with a start,
Midnight! For Christ’s sake! Where’s Olivia?
She ran
upstairs. Her joints were achy and stiff. Olivia’s bed was empty.
Her covers were still drawn up over her pillow, her cell phone lay
on her nightstand. She rushed back downstairs to the answering
machine. The message light blinked a digital zero. Megan’s heart
raced as panic spread through her body. Unsure if it was her own
panic or her daughter’s, she picked up the phone to call Olivia’s
friends. She checked with the few girlfriends that Olivia had—each
one sound asleep in her own home, their parents’ groggy, concerned
voices spewed empty offers of help.

Megan rushed upstairs and turned on Olivia’s
computer, unable to remember who she was going out with. The
website myroom.com was minimized, hovering at the bottom of the
screen like a scandalous criminal. Each heartbeat pounded in
Megan’s head like a bass drum. She remembered the many
conversations she and Olivia had had regarding myroom.com. Olivia
knew that the website was off limits because of recent articles
stating that those types of sites made kids easy prey for child
molesters.

Megan clicked on the myroom.com tab, and the
page came to life. Photos of Olivia spread across the screen:
Olivia laughing with two girls Megan did not recognize; Olivia
alone, looking serious sitting in a chair; Olivia standing with her
back to the camera as she looked over her shoulder, her finger in
her mouth.

“What the hell?” Tears sprang to Megan’s eyes
as she realized that Olivia had a life that she hadn’t been privy
to, and she wondered how long it had been going on. Anger grew in
her chest. Her hands began to shake, and a flush spread up her neck
and face. She looked through the other five photos and realized
that in each one, Olivia wore a bracelet that she had just given
her in April.
Maybe this hasn’t gone on too long.
When she
neared the bottom of the page, there was a chat box. She quickly
glanced at posts from surferdude97 and hotrox42 and began to sweat.
Olivia’s screen name, Mommasgurl92, scrolled across the top of the
box. Megan’s tingling hand flew to her mouth, “Oh my god!” She
shuddered as her vision faded to black and she crumpled to the
ground.

She fought to stay conscious as the visions
of Olivia struck her with tremendous force, and once again Olivia’s
terror became her own. She could feel that large hands were
gripping Olivia’s shoulders, cold and strong. She kicked and
struggled to break free. Thrown to the ground, two people hovered
above her. She thrashed about on the grass. A water tower loomed
behind them. A lime green truck stood sentinel in the distance.

When the focus came back to Megan’s eyes, she
was still rolling around on the floor, feeling Olivia’s fear, the
remnants of the cold, strong hands on her shoulders. She willed
herself to stand, though the energy had been sucked out of her. She
snagged the phone and dialed Holly’s number. Busy. “Shit!” She made
her way downstairs, her vision still fuzzy, and dialed Peter’s
number. Busy. “God damn it!” She threw the phone to the floor,
grabbed her keys, and flew out the front door into the brisk night
air.

Fumbling frantically, she started the car and
thrust it into Drive, heading for the only water tower she knew
of—the one just outside of town by Dave’s Drive in.
What have I
done?
Tears streamed down her cheeks, her legs shook as she
pushed the gas pedal and sped down the highway.
Oh Olivia, hang
on! I’m coming, Baby!
She reached for her cell phone to alert
the police and realized that she had left it back home on the
counter.
Damn it!
She pushed her car to eighty, then
eighty-two miles per hour, and sped off the ramp of exit 49,
heading toward the tower. As she passed the drive in, she saw the
water tower in the distance, shrouded by a mass of trees. When she
reached the dirt path that led to the tower, she turned off her
lights and slowed her speed, maneuvering around dips and ruts in
the overgrown path. A large pine tree had fallen across the road
and blocked the way. Seeing no way around it, she slammed the car
into Park and got out. Pain, like knives, worked its way from her
stomach to her arms. She was unsure if the pain was Olivia’s or her
own. She pushed ahead, keys in hand.

Her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness.
She followed the dirt path that soon became thick, tall grass
interspersed with lofty pitch pine trees. She weaved her way around
masses of prickly shrubs and over fallen leaves from giant scrub
oaks. The tower perched atop a mild hill which at that moment
appeared to Megan as ominous as a mountain. She strained forward,
driven by Olivia’s plight. As Megan approached the tower the wind
amplified in her ears. She felt exposed, vulnerable. She looked
around for a weapon, and grabbed a substantial fallen tree limb.
She turned toward the sound of a vehicle engine, and spotted a
bright green truck speeding off through an overgrown field about
fifty yards away. Her mind reeled.
Oh God! Don’t let Olivia be
in that truck!
She stopped dead in her tracks as she felt a
large, rough hand grab her wrist. She looked down, and in her
panicked state was surprised to realize that it was not her
trembling arm that the hand was grasping, but Olivia’s. She closed
her eyes, willing Olivia to stay strong. Megan knew Olivia was
being pushed deeper into the woods. She could taste her daughter’s
fear, bitter and pungent. She quickened her pace, trying to remain
silent, unnoticed. She saw a glimmer of light up ahead, smaller
than a flashlight. It moved along slowly, illuminating a spot just
large enough to see her daughter’s shaking shoulders.
A lighter
maybe?
She forged forward and the incline lessened.