Authors: Tawdra Kandle
I pushed back my chair. Suddenly, I needed to leave, to make the break, as fast as I could. If I sat here talking with Ali, she’d wear me down, and I’d end up doing something I regretted. Like begging Sam not to let me go.
“I’m going to get a shower and then grab my bags. If I get on the road pretty soon, I can be to the Cove before dark.”
I HATED GOOD-BYES. Each time my parents drove me to college, even though I loved being there, I cried when they left. When I’d taken Laura to the train station back in May for her trip to North Carolina, I’d sobbed so much that she said I was never allowed to drop her off for any trip ever again.
Standing in the yard outside the kitchen, with my car loaded up, I tried really hard not to break down when Bridget barreled herself into my legs. “Meghan, I’m going to miss you so much. But I’ll send you lots of drawings. I promise.”
“Make sure you do.” I swept her into my arms, hugged her tight, kissed her round cheek and then set her on the ground. Ali stood next to her daughter, hands tucked into the front pockets of her jeans.
“It’s been so much fun, Ali.” The tears would not be stopped. “Thank you for being such a good friend to me this summer. Thanks for bringing me to Burton. And for letting me stay here, and feeding me all the good food ...”
“Oh, come here, you crazy girl.” She held me tight, rocking a little as I’d seen her do with Bridge. “You know we love you, right? And any time you need a place to go, this is your home, too. For as long as you need it, forever. You hear?”
I nodded. “Thank you. I couldn’t imagine a better place to call home.” It was true, I realized. The old buildings, the land and every other integral part of this farm had seeped into my veins, and become a part of me. It felt as comfortable as the Tide or the beach.
“You just remember that. And text me when you get to Florida, because I’ll be worrying until I hear from you.”
“I will.” I climbed into the driver’s seat and put down the window. Drawing a deep breath, I glanced down the path to the fields, almost willing Sam to appear in the rattletrap old farm truck. When he didn’t, I threw the car into reverse.
Ali leaned in the window. “I’m only going to say this one more time. You don’t get an unlimited number of chances in life, and I don’t want to see you screw this up. If you get down to Florida and realize you’ve left something essential up here, something like your heart, you hightail it back. Don’t let anything stand in your way.”
I gazed up at her, and in her eyes, I saw the lingering pain of her own heartbreak. “If you had to do it again, Ali, what would you do different?”
I expected her to say she wouldn’t have changed a thing. Instead she gave me a small, tremulous smile. “I’d go with him. I’d leave that day, with just the clothes on my back, knowing that nothing else mattered.” She patted my hand where it rested on the door. “There’s not a day goes by that I don’t regret telling him to leave without me.”
She stepped away from the car. I eased up on the brake, letting it roll back and then shifted to drive. With a final wave to both Ali and Bridget, I drove down the driveway and out of their lives.
I STAYED OUT IN the field until it was nearly dark, just to make sure I didn’t run into her again. I didn’t know how long she’d slept after I’d left her that morning, and it was possible Ali had talked her into staying later. I couldn’t say good-bye again. I’d end up breaking down and begging her to stay.
But when I finally pulled back into the yard, the little blue Honda was gone. I sat for a minute, absorbing it, before I jumped out and went on with my regular routine.
Ali was sitting at the kitchen table when I walked in. I stopped in the laundry room to toss my dirty tee in the basket, but I didn’t bother with a clean one.
“I kept some dinner for you.” My sister pointed to the foil-covered plate on the counter. “Figured you might be hungry after not eating all day.”
I shook my head. “Nope. But thanks. I’m just going to get a shower and go to sleep. It was a long day.”
I expected her to fight me on the eating, but she only nodded. “Okay, I’ll put it in the fridge in case you want it tomorrow. Sleep well.” I turned and was nearly through the doorway when she added, “Meghan just texted me, right before you came in. She made it home safely.”
I fisted my hand against the wave of pain. “Good. Thanks for telling me.” I climbed the steps and walked down the hallway, passing Bridget’s room. She was on her stomach on the floor, drawing with the special pencil and pad Meghan had given her.
“Hi.” She waved to me, her small face serious.
“Hi.” As tired as I was, I couldn’t help stepping into her room to tousle her hair. I looked down at her paper. “Wow, Bridge. That’s really good. It’s your mama’s herb garden, isn’t it?”
She grinned. “Yup. Meghan taught me about drawing plants.” She glanced back down at the pad. “She’s gone. I’m going to miss her so much, Uncle Sammy. It was like having a big sister or something. Like another mom, maybe, but one who didn’t make me do stuff.”
I reached down to muss her hair. “I know, peanut. But it’s okay. School will be starting soon, and then you won’t miss her so much.” I turned to head for my own bedroom and was two steps down the hall when she called to me again.
“Do you miss her, too?”
I paused but didn’t look back. “Yeah, squirt. I do.”
Inside my room, the bed looked so inviting that I decided to skip the shower. I’d get one in the morning, and it wasn’t like I had to be sweet-smelling for anyone tonight. I took off my pants, leaving them on the floor where they dropped, and crawled between the sheets. Within minutes, I’d fallen into a heavy sleep.
ALI DIDN’T FUSS AT me for anything in the first week after Meghan left. I was so preoccupied that it didn’t sink in right away, but then one night I got up from dinner and left my plate on the table. She picked it up and carried it to the sink without a word. I watched her, frowning.
“I left my plate on the table.”
She glanced at me over her shoulder, but there was no irritation on her face. “Yeah, you did. It’s okay, I got it.”
“Why didn’t you yell at me? You always yell when I forget to clear my place.”
She lifted her shoulders. “It’s not a big deal.”
“You’ve been letting a lot of stuff slide the last few days. What’s up?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’re letting me get away with shit. I want to know why. Am I dying or something?”
She rolled her eyes. “And how would I know that, Sam? You haven’t been to a doctor in years, and I’m no fortune teller.”
“Then what’s up?”
Ali dropped a bunch of silverware into the dishwasher and slammed the door shut. “You want to know what’s up? Okay, fine. I’m trying not to get on your back about anything, because I’m afraid if I do, I’ll lose it. I’ll go off on you, and I’ll say things I shouldn’t instead of just minding my own damn business.”
I sat back down at the table. “When has that ever stopped you?”
She threw up her hands. “I’m trying to be a different person, Sam. You know, like, growth and improvement? Don’t you get that?”
I nodded. “So what do you want to yell at me about?”
“I don’t know where to start. Well, let’s begin with the fact that you’ve missed dinner five out of the last six days. You work until it’s dark and then you come home and fall into bed. And when you are here, like tonight, thanks to the rain, you’re not actually here. You don’t talk to Bridge or me, not really. You answer like a robot. And I have it on good authority that you missed a Guild meeting this week for the first time since we lost Mom and Dad.”
I frowned. “Yeah, well, the farm’s been demanding. I was too tired last Friday to drive all the way into town for the meeting. And I didn’t want to sit there and hear them talk, either.”
“Sam, you are such an idiot.” Ali slammed her hand down on the table. “Everyone sees it but you. Or let me correct that: you see it, but you choose to pretend it’s not true.”
“What is it that I choose not to see?” I knew, but the roiling in my gut wouldn’t let me acknowledge it.
“Meghan. You miss her.”
I sighed. “Okay, yes, I miss her. But why is that such a big deal? You miss her, too. So does Bridge. Cassie told me she does, too. Any number of people in town miss Meghan. Why am I an idiot?”
“Because you’re the one in love with her, you ass.” Ali pulled out a chair and sat down across from me. “You’re burying yourself in the farm again, like you did when Mom and Dad died, just to keep from having to think about her. Is it working, Sam? Are you forgetting about Meghan?”
I raked my fingers through my hair. “No, dammit. If you have to hear it, then no. I still see her all over the farm, everywhere we’ve been. I still expect her to greet me at the sink when I get home from the fields. Want to sit on the porch with her after supper. See her painting in the yard at dawn. But she’s gone, Ali. And she’s not coming back. We knew that from the beginning, so I need to just get over her and get on with my life.”
Ali blew out a breath. “This is why you’re an idiot, brother. Because she would’ve stayed. She didn’t have to be gone, not for good. If you’d told her how you felt, she wouldn’t have left. Or she would’ve made you go with her.”
I stared at my sister. “I couldn’t do that. What if I did tell her, and then she felt sorry for me and stayed out of pity? Or what if she thought she loved me, stayed in Burton, then hated me in a few years for taking that choice away from her? That would kill me, Ali.”
I waited for her to argue back, but she only laughed. “Oh, you two are a pair. Do you know what Meghan told me the morning she left, Sam? She said she wouldn’t stay here, no matter how much she cares for you, because you didn’t want her. I’m not supposed to tell you this, but the school board offered her a job here, part-time during her last year of school and then full time after graduation. She didn’t take it because she thought it would be awkward for you to have her around when you’re trying to get on with your life.”
“She turned them down?” My heart was flipping over in my chest, a glimmer of hope battling with the heaviness that had weighed me down the last week.
“No, she didn’t tell them anything definite yet. But only because I stalled her. She won’t come back here if she thinks you don’t want her.” Ali looked at me steadily. “So what are you going to do with that information? You going to sit here and brood until it’s too late, and she’s out of reach completely? Or are you going to do something for yourself for once in your damn life?”