Meg's Moment (22 page)

“Goodbye Mrs. Malone,” he said his brown eyes staring directly into hers. “Good luck on your quest.”

She followed him out, “Please think about it Jack,” she called out to his departing back. He climbed into his truck, started the engine
,
and had the truck in gear before he even shut the door. With his foot flat on the floor he guided his truck down her street and to the nearest bar.

Megan’s mother passed Jack on the sidewalk as she was walking up the driveway to Megan’s house. Megan plastered smile on her face and waved at her mom. Her mom was not smiling and was clutching her Rosary beads in her hand. Oh Boy! Megan was
in
big trouble now. That thought brought a surge of excitement...

“Hello, Mom. It’s an exceptionally beautiful night wouldn’t you say?” Megan said in her perkiest, ain’t I cute voice. In the background she heard a roar of laughter followed by ‘Go Mickey, Go Mickey, It’s your birthday.’ The gang was in the living room and Megan was sure Mickey was doing his famous beer bottle balancing trick, where he balanced the bottle on his forehead, while simultaneously, downing the contents of another one all without using his hands. Either that or he was doing a strip tease. Either way, they were having a blast and Megan would have much rather been in there. Instead she was facing down a rather angry woman who was carrying a crucifix, Rosary beads
,
and a Bible
.
A
ll the essential equipment needed for bringing down the wrath of God on a rotten child. Outside thunder cracked and Megan prayed for lightening to strike and torch the kitchen. Her
m
other pushed past her and threw her purse on the counter.

“Mom, I…”

“Cut the crap, young lady.” Oh boy, she said crap. She was pissed. “I don’t know what the heck has gotten into you but I’ve had enough. Being rude to sweet Mrs. Everett, kissing that…that man in your yard,” the laugher erupted again, “having wild parties. I’ve had enough of it and so has your
f
ather. You are not going to ruin our good names. We are well respected in this town and…”

“Mom,” Megan was on a roll tonight, no s
e
n
s
e stopping now, “Put a sock in it.” Her Mother’s face went white. “What I do has nothing to do with you. I am thirty. Didn’t you get the memo? I am free to live my own life anyway I damn well please and if you don’t like it then move. Or better yet, I’ll move. I’ve been thinking about it for a while anyway.” A few stubborn tears formed in the corners of her mother’s stern blue eyes. “I’m divorcing Ted, and I’m going to kiss a few boys, and maybe even have sex with one of them. I’m going to get drunk if I want to, and if I feel like it I’ll run down the street naked shouting the f-word at the top of my lungs. Hell, I might even get arrested
.
I’ve never ridden in a cop car before and it might be kind of fun.” Her Mother’s face was a mix of anger, disgust, and horror. She was clutching her crucifix so tight Megan was afraid she’d break it. Her
m
other said nothing.

“Oh, and by the way, I write a smut column for a local woman’s magazine and I’ve been doing it for years. It’s called Meg’s Moment and you might want to check it out. It’s mostly sex and stuff, but I try to throw in a few baking tips and household remedies every now and again. Pretty good stuff if you ask me.”

The kitchen door opened and then shut quickly and Megan’s mom said, “I need to sit down.” Megan guided her to a chair and instantly felt like hell for what she’d just said to her
m
other. The look on the woman’s face made Megan’s heart break. She was a horrible daughter. A rotten, human being. Her
mother
was fanning herself with her hand and fighting back tears.

“Mom,” Megan began, “
g
o home. Forget about what I said
.
I’m sorry. I love you very much. You are a wonderful
m
other
and you did an awesome job raising me. I’m a horrible person and that is no reflection of you. You can blame daddy or someone on his side of the family. Maybe I got a hold of some bad genes. I’ll try to do better. Just go home and we’ll start fresh tomorrow.”

Her mother rose and Megan braced herself for a blow to the head with that infamous brown purse. But instead her
m
other wrapped her arms around Megan’s neck and pulled her close. “Do you need money for a divorce lawyer?” she said and Megan about fainted. “Because if you’re going to do it I want to make sure you have a good attorney.”

“I’m fine Mom, but thanks.” Megan heard herself say through the lump in her throat. She loved her
m
other so much and from now on she was going to try harder to appreciate her. Even when she was nagging her to a premature death.

Her
m
other pulled away and held Megan’s hands, her eyes soft and maternal
.
“Make sure you pick up some of those uh condom things at Rite-Aid, and have your teeth cleaned. No one likes to kiss a dirty mouth.” Megan smiled and nodded. “Oh and don’t forget to call for a ride if you have too much to drink. You may be a pain in the ass, kid, but you’re my pain in the ass and I’d like to have you around to send me to my early grave.” She patted her daughter’s cheek and gathered her things. Laughter erupted again and she said, “Go on
,
Honey
.
You’re missing all the fun.”

“I love you
,
Mom
,
” Megan said feeling her heart swell in her chest.

I love you too, dear.” She turned to leave then stopped, “Oh and Meg, don’t leave your phone off the hook again. I’ll try to overlook everything else, but avoiding your mother is a carnal sin. Don’t do it again.”

Megan smiled, “O
K
, Mom. I won’t.” Her Mother left and Megan got a beer and went into the living room to join the party feeling like a totally new woman. Free and liberated and fun.

***

Jack sat on the creaky bar stool at Dude’s, a low budget country western bar about a mile from Megan’s. He’d been there ten minutes and the bartender had been ignoring him sitting there the whole time. Jack rapped on the wooden counter for about the fifth time when the gentleman, finally sauntered over, swiping a bar cloth over the surface as he came.

“Shot of Jack,” he growled, “and keep ‘em coming.” The old man shook his head.

“Not at my bar, son,” he said in his raspy nicotine voice.

“Come on, don’t start this with me.”

“Then leave.” Jack hung his head and stared at the scarred surface of the bar as Frank worked his way to the other end of the bar. Jack knew Frank meant well and maybe that’s why he didn’t just get up and go to another bar. He didn’t really want to throw his sobriety down the drain and he knew he’d hate himself for it tomorrow. He just didn’t want to feel anything but numbness right now because everything he felt either made him want to break something or cry. From the other end of the bar Frank was watching Jack. He didn’t look up but he could feel the man’s stare penetrating him.

Megan wanted his help. She wanted to have fun. She wanted a few lessons in sex. All that was good and fine if she’d have wanted those things with him. But no, he was only supposed to be the gopher. Like the water boy in the football game. Just a mere enabling bystander that she could toss aside once his job was done. He located the shelves on the wall, holding various bottles of liqueur. On the second shelf, shining like a beacon of light was his long lost friend, its black and white label calling his name. He stared at the bottle half full of the glowing amber liquid and closed his eyes. He could almost taste the stout, smooth, sensation as the liquid rolled down his throat. He wanted that bottle but he knew he wasn’t going to get it. Not because of Frank
.
H
ell
,
if he raised a big enough stink Frank’d probably cave and if he didn’t he could go somewhere else. Hell, there were a dozen convenience stores on his way home that sold it. Nope he wouldn’t get it because he didn’t want it. Sure, right now it sounded great but he knew if he had one drink he’d never stop and his sobriety was way more important. He’d come too far to throw it away. Even if it was for Megan
.
H
e’d do just about anything for that woman, except this.

He hung his head back down and inhaled the familiar scents of the bar; cigarette smoke, sweat, beer. He ran his fingers through his brown hair and cocked his head to the side and came face to face with a pair of the finest crafted breasts poking out of a shiny silver halter top. He glanced up at the owner of those breasts and found a pretty blonde headed woman staring at him, her gleaming white smile dancing in her green eyes.

“Hi handsome, haven’t seen you around here. How about you take me for a spin on that dance floor and I’ll help you forget about all your problems.”

“No thanks,” he answered staring straight ahead at the blinking Budweiser sign, its light reflecting off the mirrored background.

She rubbed his forearm and tried another dazzling smile. “C’mon, you look like you need some cheering up.” He said nothing so she placed her hand on his thigh and parted her lips, “Just one dance?” He removed her hand and frowned. She stiffened on her stool, rolled her eyes, and motioned Frank over. “Gimme another
,
Frank”
she said
.
A
nd after Frank s
e
t her drink on the counter she scooped it up, gave Jack a your-loss look
,
and scampered away. Jack fished his wallet out of his pocket and threw a five on the counter to pay for her drink just as Frank leaned his elbows on the bar opposite him.

“Must be one hell of a woman
to
get a man this upset and stupid enough to turn Audrey down. You could have taken her home tonight and had quite a time
,
but I guess you know that already.” Jack looked up into the man’s tired brown eyes and the old man nodded, a knowing look in his eyes. He disappeared behind the bar and returned with a tall glass of Coke
,
plopping it down in front of Jack.

Jack reached out and gently grasped the man’s wrinkled hand. With a brief squeeze he said, “Thanks, Dad
.
”

T
he old man smiled and said, “Anytime, Son. Been there myself.” Jack sipped his coke and thought about his dad and the years he’d spent in the bottle when his mother had gotten sick. After his mother’s death they’d gone to AA and gotten sober together, been that way ever since. Jack polished off his Coke, shrugged his jacket on, and lifted a hand to his father. Frank nodded and waved at his son, proud that he’d come there when the urge to drink had been so strong, knowing that his dad would be there to steer him straight.

***

Megan had joined her guests, plopped down her high school
yearbooks
,
and filled the gang in on what she asked Jack to do for her.

“Did you tell him why you wanted to find these guys,” Stacy asked. Thanks to the Tequila she was being really cool about the whole thing. Ordinarily she would have lectured Megan on taking a few years and dealing with the divorce, blah blah.

“Sort of,” Megan said
.
“But really he figured it out. Told me I needed a pimp instead of a PI.” Mickey raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow.

“Well is he going to do it? Find these guys?” he asked.

“Oh he’ll do it,
”
Megan said, “or I’ll have his butt thrown in jail for breaking into Ted’s studio.” She thought about that kiss and what a shame it would be to have those lips locked up. “Plus
,
I kissed him,” from around the room, curious looks were being shot at her, “and he seemed to enjoy it.”

She told them about old lady Everett and how she kissed Jack to shock the old woman and how he told her to take a hike and then she filled them in on the conversation with her mom.

“Your mom said crap, condoms
,
and ass all in the same night?” Ali said surprised
.
“Shit, the end of the world must be near.”

“I just can’t believe she told you to get your teeth cleaned, like she’s giving you pointers to help you get some. Almost sounds like she wants you to have sex
,
” Stacy said, having traded in Tequila for iced tea.

“I doubt that, but I guess when I do get some she wants to make sure that I don’t spread tarter germs while I’m at it. You know my mom
,
she always tends to the details.” Megan smiled and opened her senior year book. “So, let’s see who’s hot, who’s not
,
and whose revenge sex worthy.”

“Finally something I am can contribute to.” Josie nestled up beside Megan and began scanning the head shots of the class of 1999. “Oh
,
Ben Jacobs remember him? He used to have the mullet
haircut
, and a never ending collection of Metallica tee shirts. Remember he’s the one who lip locked Mrs. Ferguson on the fifty yard line during the state championship.”