Megan's Way (17 page)

Olivia curled herself into a little girl
again, and snuggled so close to Megan that their breaths fell into
a symbiotic rhythm—Olivia’s exhale became Megan’s strength, and
each of Megan’s breaths comforted Olivia.

Holly and Megan faced each other and
whispered as their energy dwindled. They lay so close that each
time Megan breathed out, it became Holly’s intake of breath.

Peter reached out to Megan and touched her.
He held onto her, their hands familiar and comforting. Olivia’s
toes rested on Peter’s leg, and she took great comfort in knowing
he was there.

Sometime during the evening, Megan snuck her
Winniethe-Pooh bear out of her bag, and nestled it securely under
her left arm. She was glad she had made the decision not to take
the pills. She needed one more day to share her secret with Jack,
one more day to see her daughter smile, and one more day to simply
be. It was like this, as one, that they eased into sleep as the
night air carried away their hopes and dreams, their cares and
hearts, into the vast evening sky.

The early morning sun illuminated the
remnants of the campfire, and Megan watched her friends sleeping
peacefully—knowing that shortly their lives would be forever
changed. Olivia looked so peaceful that Megan wished she’d never
have to wake, that she could stay in that peaceful state
forever—leaving the truth of her new life unrealized. Megan’s body
was there, against Olivia’s, but her essence, her energy, was
gone—stolen from her body and taken with her soul for eternity.

Though Megan’s heart ached for the pain her
death would cause her daughter and most treasured friends, and she
longed to have been the one to tell Jack that Olivia was his
daughter, she felt horribly conflicted because she was also
strangely enveloped by a sense peace and wellness. She had passed
through her life with gracious friends and an amazing daughter,
taking with her a small part of each of their beings, and stashing
it away in her very own soul. She wept, not for her own death, but
for the life she had shared with each of them and for the
cumbersome job they would now have of putting her body to rest.
Megan passed through on May 1st, the same day she had come into the
world. She hoped that her friends would continue to celebrate that
day for themselves in years to come, as they had for her.

Megan looked down and was not surprised to
find that she was no longer whole. She had no body, though she had
a form, a weightless cloudy shape that looked as if she were draped
in a cloud. She felt healthy, whole, as if she were carrying the
ten pounds she had always wished away, and that, surprisingly, made
her smile.

Holly awoke feeling revitalized as she always
had after their rituals. She breathed in the crisp air and let it
out slowly. She moved carefully, trying not to wake Peter and
Olivia. Olivia—she was so pleased that Megan had allowed Olivia to
share in their ritual. It was time. Olivia was a young woman and
certainly deserved to take part in their group. She was proud of
Megan for changing her mind. Holly, of all people, knew how hard it
was for Megan to make the transition from having
her
time
with her friends, to including her daughter.
Her daughter
,
the thought lingered in Holly’s mind, and she looked down at Megan,
whose eyes were staring not at her, but through her.

Holly squinted, darting her eyes to see what
Megan was looking at. She reached for Megan, “Meg?” Her body was
cold—not just cold from the morning air, but ice cold. A chill ran
through Holly’s chest.

“Meg? Meg?” Panicked, she leaned toward
Megan’s body and touched her cheek. “Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.” Tears
streamed down her cheeks. She shook Megan, “Megan? oh god! Megan!”
Her voice rose.

Olivia stirred, her body still curled up like
a baby cat snuggled against its mother. Holly reached out and
gently placed her trembling hand on Olivia’s arm, causing Olivia to
turn toward her rather than her mother.

Olivia looked at Holly, saw the message in
her eyes— and knew. She opened her mouth to speak, but could not.
Her body began to shake uncontrollably; her hands flew up to the
sides of her head. She spun around and looked at her mother. Her
face contorted, and she covered her ears as if she could keep out
the awful news of her mother’s death. She shook her head
vehemently. “No! no!” she cried. “It’s not true!” She put her arms
around mother’s stiff body, feeling her cold flesh against her own
warm hands. She lay flat against her mother’s side, rocked, “No,
Mom! no, no, no! I’m not ready!”

Peter watched the scene unfold in horror and
shock. He was unable to speak, pleading with his eyes to Holly,
begging for a different outcome, but her look told it all— Megan
was gone. He moved silently to Olivia’s side. He and Holly embraced
Olivia. They didn’t try to pry her away from Megan’s body. They
simply enveloped her, held her tight, and cried with her, each
feeling his and her own private pain, their own private loss.

“Livi, honey, I think she knew,” Holly said.
The revelation only made Olivia cry harder. Holly wiped her warm
tears, leaving wet streaks across her cheeks. “I think she knew it
was her time, honey. She wanted to go this way, with all of us
here.”

Olivia sobbed harder. “No! if she knew she
would have said goodbye! She wouldn’t just…just leave me like that!
She loves me!”

“Of course she does, Livi. She does love you,
more than anything else in this world,” Peter said through his own
tears.

“She did say goodbye, Livi. Last night was
her way of saying goodbye. She left you with us. She knew you would
be safe with us here by your side.” Holly took Olivia into her arms
and rocked her, sharing her pain, soothing her with love.

“Why?” Olivia cried. “Why didn’t she want me
here then? if she knew she was going to…to…go like this, why didn’t
she want me here?”

“But she did want you here, Olivia. You are
here,” Holly said.

Olivia stood, her hurt turned into anger.
“No!” she yelled, viciously eying her mother’s friends. “You guys
made her let me come! She said I couldn’t! She said it was her
time!” Olivia paced, her thin arms crossed across her heaving
chest. “She didn’t even want me here.” Her last words were spoken
as if they were meant only for herself to hear.

Holly knelt beside Megan, her hands steepled.
Her tears landed on Megan’s hair and sunk into its depth. She was
unable to understand it herself. How could she explain it to
Olivia?

“Oh, baby girl, my sweet baby girl,” Peter
said as he put his arms around Olivia. “I am so sorry, Livi, so
very sorry.” Olivia fell into Peter’s arms, giving into the sadness
that coursed through her body and robbed her of her will to move.
Her thoughts blurred together, her limbs hung heavily, and
dizziness overtook her. She barely registered the sight of her
mother’s Pooh Bear before she blacked out.

Megan felt as if her heart were being torn
into shreds. She hadn’t thought of the immediate effect of her
death, just of the months of pain that she would have spared
Olivia.
Did I do the right thing?
Her tears flowed, though
when they fell they formed a stream that wound through the sky and
disappeared into a cloud, like a long silk scarf twisting and
floating in the breeze. She marveled, momentarily lost in the
wonder of the stream, and was called back to earth by the sound of
Peter’s voice.

“My god, Holly, look.” He motioned to the
stuffed bear. “She did know. She must have known.”

Holly’s hand instinctively covered her mouth.
She looked down at Olivia who hung in Peter’s arms like a rag doll,
closed her eyes, and whispered, “Oh, Meggie.”

Peter laid Olivia on the couch and covered
her with the afghan her mother had used just the evening before.
Megan’s scent of lavender and coconut remained in the fibers of the
fabric and wrenched even more tears from the center of Olivia’s
heart. Olivia whimpered like a small child, spent of emotion.

Holly gave Olivia a Valium in an effort to
help her calm down.

As she drifted off to sleep, thoughts of her
mother wound their way around her tormented mind.

Peter and Holly went outside and covered
Megan’s body with a thick blanket.

“Shouldn’t we call someone?” Peter asked.

“Yeah.” Holly was still in a state of shock.
“I don’t know who we’d call. The morgue? The police?” She knelt
next to Megan. “It just doesn’t seem fair that she’s gone. I mean,
just yesterday she was here, alive. She didn’t look great, but she
didn’t look like she was going to—”

Peter knelt next to Holly and held her while
she sobbed.

“Why didn’t she tell me, Peter?” Holly’s
voice was beset by sadness. “I’m her best friend, and she didn’t
even hint to me that this was so close.”

“There’s a lot about Megan that we will never
know, Hol. She must have known. She never brought her bear to our
rituals, and yet, we all know what it meant to her. It makes sense
that she knew.”

Holly swallowed hard and tried to stop her
tears from flowing, tried to find her voice. She took Peter’s hand
in her own and closed her eyes.

“Oh, Holy one,” she began. “Please embrace
Megan and show her the light. She was the tie that bound us, and
she is now yours.” Holly’s salty tears landed in her mouth,
reminding her of the bittersweet evening before.

The pain in her heart was more than she could
bear. She was drowning in her sorrow, each tear pushed her further
into the depths of sadness.

From her perch just above, Megan watched the
scene unfold. She was torn between relief at finally passing on and
despair over what was happening to her friends and Olivia. She
floated back and forth between them anxiously, watching her
friends, watching Olivia asleep on the couch, her heart tearing
over their sorrow. She wondered just how long it would take for
Olivia to forgive her, to forgive god. Megan’s thoughts drifted to
the evening before. She could not remember taking the pills from
her pocket and clearly remembered wanting more time with Olivia,
even feeling ready and willing to fight for it.

Olivia had fallen fast asleep on the couch.
Holly called Jack, her words almost inaudible through her tears,
and Peter made the other necessary calls. Unable to remain idle and
still in shock, they straightened Megan’s house from the
festivities of the night before in silence. When Peter was in the
bathroom, Holly snuck outside. She uncovered Megan’s face to have
one last look, lay down behind her, and held her rigid and cold
body against her own. She let her tears flow and the words come,
without concern of how she sounded, without embarrassment of being
seen.

“Meggie, my love, I am so sorry for
everything. I knew, or at least I figured, for so long, but I
couldn’t ask you, not once you got sick. It took me thirteen years,
but I finally put it all together. I wouldn’t have loved you any
less. I wouldn’t have been upset. You didn’t need to bear your
secret alone. Why didn’t you know that? Why didn’t you trust me?”
Holly quelled the mixture of anger and loss that coursed through
her.

“I love her, Meggie, as I love you. I will be
good to her.” Holly took a deep breath, and held back the words
that she still wished she could speak,
She is mine
. In a
whisper, she said, “I am sorry, Megan. Thank you for being her
mother.” She closed her eyes and wept. Her tears fell from her
cheeks to Megan’s face, as if cried from her own still eyes.

Jack’s deep sorrowful voice pulled Holly back
to the present. He fell to his knees behind Holly and embraced her,
tears sliding down his own flushed cheeks. Her body was still
entwined with Megan’s, and they lay there, the three of them as
one. Jack’s breath brought Holly strength, and that strength
drifted up through the air and found its way to Megan, breezing
through her like a rush of warm wind, lifting her full, thick hair
and leaving a trail of heat, like a worn path running through her
soul.

Holly rested her hand on Jack’s arm. Megan
flinched in surprise as she felt his heat in her palm, as if
Holly’s hand were her own. Jack’s eyes opened wide, he squinted,
and then as if he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, believe what he felt, he
closed them again.

Olivia awoke to her mother’s friends’ hushed
whispers in the kitchen. She looked outside at the afternoon sun,
which had risen high in the sky, illuminating the remnants of the
bonfire and the empty spot where her mother’s body had been. She
rubbed the fresh tears from her eyes and made her way slowly to the
French doors. She put her hand flat against the glass and felt the
warmth of her mother’s hand against her own, which at first hit her
like a bad dream, igniting a feeling of wanting to pull her hand
back, as if burned. Not a second later, the feeling turned to one
of a blessing. She put her other palm against the door and felt the
same sensation. Tears flowed down both cheeks, and a sad smile
crept across her face,
Mama?

Megan floated just beyond the clouds, her
hands outstretched, fingers reaching as if they were each a tiny
hand. In the flash of a second, she felt the softness of Olivia’s
hands on her own. Just as quickly, it was gone.

When the heat subsided, Olivia tucked the
feeling safely into her secret place, alongside Holly’s accolades
and love, and her memories of her mother. She knew her mother was
with her now, as she always had been in life.

Olivia walked into the yard and sat down on
the blanket her mother had used the evening before. She picked up
her mother’s bear and held it close to her chest. She didn’t try to
stop the sadness that brought a rush of tears and pain in her
heart. She looked toward the sky and wondered, for a brief second,
what happened to her mother’s body, where it was taken, but the
thought was erased by the understanding that it didn’t matter where
it had gone—she needed her mother alive, with her, not the empty
shell that she once had inhabited. She closed her eyes and wondered
what would become of her now. Who will she trust? Who will care for
her? Who was she now? She felt lost, like a child who strayed at
the beach, not knowing which way to turn or where to go next.