Jack ran his large fingers across Megan’s smiling face in the second photo. She was in the center of the photograph with one arm slung over Holly’s shoulder and the other around Jack’s waist. Peter was crouched down in front of Megan, reaching up with his left hand, his palm turned to rest in Holly’s hand. Until then, Jack had been able to hold in his emotions. The tears, however, could no longer stay at bay. They tumbled down his cheeks and onto the table.
Holly walked behind him and put her arms around his neck, rested her cheek against his back, and breathed in his scent. He turned and embraced her, unashamed of weeping for his friend.
“I remember when she did the whole princess thing,” Holly said. “She was just so…there…for Olivia. You know? She was a great mother, Jack. How can I ever really take her place? What if I’m no good?”
Jack looked at her pained and beautiful face and cupped her cheek. She turned into his palm, soaked up the security of him.
“You are going to be wonderful, Holly,” he said. “You are wonderful. Look how long you have been caring for both Megan and Olivia. It’s almost as if you two were sisters. In fact, sometimes it was hard to see where she ended and you began. Olivia adores you, and you adore her. She doesn’t expect you to be Megan. She just needs love, Hol, and you have plenty of that to give.”
“I hope you’re right. I’d hate to disappoint Megan. I do love Olivia, Jack. She’s like the daughter that I could never have.” Holly looked at Jack guiltily, ashamed of her own insecurities—and appalled by her deceit. She thought about Jack’s words and hoped they were true.
“You will be magnificent, Holly. You are going to be a wonderful mother to Olivia.” He hugged Holly around her waist, believing every word he said.
After a few minutes, Holly pulled back gently from Jack and said, “There’s more.”
He lifted his eyes in question.
Holly nodded and pulled a small plastic bag out of the box. Inside the bag there was a balled-up piece of aluminum foil. Holly unwrapped it and exposed a mound of pills that she had found in Megan’s skirt pocket the morning after the ritual. She held them out for Jack to see.
Jack asked, “What is that? Her medications?”
Holly shook her head. “I don’t think so. I think they were something she could take to…you know…to die.”
“No, n—” Jack said, shaking his head. “Megan wouldn’t do that. We can get them analyzed. We can find out.” He picked up a few of the pills in his hand and looked closely. “These are Percocet. Don’t you remember when I took them for my torn Achilles?”
The truth of the situation set in, and tears sprung to Holly’s eyes. She sighed. “There’s no need to get them analyzed, Jack. She told me and Livi she stopped taking her meds so we all wouldn’t have to suffer through her deterioration. She wanted to die quickly. I know what these pills are, or what they were intended for, at least. I have no question about it. I just thought you should know. I had to tell someone, you know?” Holly couldn’t stop the flow of tears. She sat down in a chair at the table and buried her face in her hands. “Oh, Jack. I understand,” she sobbed, gasping for breath. “I understand why she didn’t want it to take a long time, but still. It still hurts. It still feels like we were robbed of her, you know? What if they find a cure in the next month? What if she could be here right now? Why did she choose to end it alone?”
Jack moved to hold her in his arms, and stroked her back. “Holly, honey, you know they aren’t going to find a cure in the next month. She did what she had to do. You, of all people, knew Megan best. You know,” he covered her heart with his hand, “you know in your heart that she knew what was right for her, for Olivia. She wouldn’t have done it if there was even a slight chance that she could recover. Even if she would have taken the pills, she would have known what she was doing. You have to trust that.” He looked away, “Besides, she didn’t end it alone. She was with you, and Olivia, and Peter.” But not me, damn it! he chided himself. I should have been there!“But she didn’t take them, Jack. They were still in her pocket. That means that her body made the decision for her. That she didn’t do it, right?” Holly asked, looking for something other than the truth to cling to, some shred of decency for her best friend, and purposely pushing the thought, Or was she going to swallow them all? from her mind.
“Yes, of course,” he said. “Her body just let go, that’s all. She was probably going to take them, but there was no need. She died in her sleep, right? isn’t that what you told me?” Jack said.
“Yes,” she said. “We all had such a good time at our ritual. It was like she was healthy again. I forgot, for a while, that she was sick. She was like her old self, laughing and dancing around. She didn’t complain or act like she couldn’t keep up.” Holly wiped her eyes.
“But that was Megan, wasn’t it? That’s who she was.
The essence of her was life itself. She wasn’t one to complain or ask for special attention. She always made sure everyone had a good time,” Jack said. “I remember at summer camp when we were kids. I would tell her I was bored, and within minutes she’d have me laughing and running around. When we saw each other, summer after summer, it was like no time had passed at all. That’s how she was, Hol. That’s who she was. She went out of this world with all of the glory of her natural being. You should be happy about that. So what if she had pills in her pocket! it doesn’t even matter, really, does it?”
“I guess you’re right,” Holly relented. “It wouldn’t matter if she took it or if she didn’t. She left us on her terms in any case—and she was happy. She left when she was ready. I just miss her so much already, you know? it’s really, really hard—and poor Olivia.” Holly’s heart hurt when she thought of the emptiness in her, and realized it was probably not nearly as empty as what Olivia was feeling.
Jack held Holly for another moment and then looked back in the box. There, at the bottom of the box, twisted all unto itself, was Megan’s Yin necklace. Jack smiled and fingered the rough chain. The memories that he’d hidden for so many years came rushing to the forefront of his mind, knocking to be set free. The feeling overwhelmed him, and he had to sit down.
The Yin rested in his hand like a fine stone, cool and rough. He wrapped his fist around the charm and put it to his forehead, and closed his eyes as the memories came flooding back.
The smell of the night sea air had wafted around them. He could still feel her hands on his back, softly at first, then rough, as if she couldn’t get enough of him. He remembered the way her body was flecked with sand, and how it made her giggle—and how those giggles turned to sensual moans and gasps of pleasure. The memories of the weekend they shared, those three glorious days, brought on a blush that climbed up his neck and burned into his cheeks.
The ease of their togetherness, like it was something they had done many times before—and the ill-fitting feeling that had flittered around him that he had refused to acknowledge at the time—he had desperately wanted to be in love with Megan—and then she was gone. She had disappeared without returning his phone calls, heading to italy to study painting with some other famous artist. He hadn’t even thought to ask who it was she was studying under. At the time, he had thought it was just another of Megan’s whimsical trips, one of her wild excursions that brought her such joy. She had done that, from time to time, as she had noted in her letters during the autumns and winters when they were growing up, and again throughout college breaks. He used to vie for those summers, to be able to incite such excitement in Megan. She had gone to California with an aunt, Montana with her mother, and even new Mexico on her own—spur of the moment trips. She would write such striking details upon her return that Jack felt as though he had shared her private moments and had taken the trips right along with her.
The trip to italy, however, had nearly broken him. When she had left, he had felt as though even functioning were difficult. He had thought about her night and day, anxious to see her again. He had longed for her as he had never had f
or any other woman.
Then Holly had called. She and Jack had become friends when Megan had introduced them in college. Though there had never been any romantic interest on either side and the friendship was nowhere near as deep as his friendship with Megan, the camaraderie had been nice, and he had looked forward to seeing her and commiserating about the vast hole their mutual friend had left in him.
In an effort to quell their loneliness, each had allowed the other to fill the void Megan had left in their lives. It quickly became apparent that Holly had no idea that Jack and Megan had been together. Jack decided not to divulge it to Holly after all, believing that Megan probably had her own reasons to keep it a secret.
As it turned out, he and Holly shared much in common, and a quick jog had turned to dinner, which turned to lunch the next day and a visit to a museum the next. Five nights later, dinner led to dessert of another kind, which led to breakfast the next morning—and every morning thereafter. They couldn’t have stopped what was developing if they had tried. They had fit so well together that there had never been any question of it being right or wrong. There had never been any discussion of it at all. It just was.
Jack realized that while he wished he could have been in love with Megan, he was not. He was in love with Holly. She was level-headed, loving, positive, and though she was not creative, as Megan was, she was interesting and intelligent and supportive and not afraid to love, which was the one fault that he could tell Megan possessed. He had always felt as though there were a wall that Megan erected, something to keep others out of her little world. And yet, he had fallen for her over and over again during each summer when they were growing up, and the night on the beach, when he had held her in his arms, although he had felt as though he had made a fissure in her wall, he knew he had not broken through—his heart and hers had not become one.
From the evening that Holly had shown up at his house to fix him dinner, and he had watched her from behind, her brown hair brushing her shoulders as she reached into his cabinets, Jack felt as if she’d done it a thousand times before, as if she had always been there, as if she belonged there. When they touched, his heart was satiated and happy, not lustful or panicked. To Jack, that feeling of fullness made him whole.
Jack wondered, as he held Megan’s Yin in his hand, if the trip to italy was not an artistic jaunt at all, but one of contemplation. The thought lingered in his mind as Holly walked behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders.
“She was wearing that,” Holly said.
The statement took Jack by surprise. He hadn’t seen
Megan wear the necklace since the day he put it around her neck. He opened his palm and stared at the Yin.
“I wonder what it meant to her, where she got it,” Holly said, curiously.
Jack held his breath, as tears hedged the corners of his eyes. Megan never told her either, he thought. A lone tear found its way down his face and into his palm. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.
Holly misread Jack’s actions, “I don’t know either. It must have really meant something wonderful to her.” She rubbed Jack’s neck.
Jack felt both guilt and happiness. The thought of Megan wearing her Yin meant much to him, touched him in a way that he hadn’t thought of for many years. If she knew she was going to die, did she want to be buried with it on? Was it meant as a sign to Jack?
Holly interrupted his thoughts, “Maybe it’s from the guy in Italy.”
Jack’s breath caught. Could it have been? The thought had never even crossed his mind. He and Holly had been so intertwined when Megan came back, and Megan had acted truly happy for them. There was never any animosity or awkward feelings or glances. No, certainly he was reading too much into this.
“What do you think?” Holly asked, as she came around the table and sat next to Jack.
“I’m…not sure,” Jack mumbled. He quickly wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and closed his fist again. He looked at Holly and wondered just how to tell her. He’d never ied to her before, never had a need to, though he never told her about he and Megan, either. Does a lie by omission count? He looked into her trusting brown eyes, which looked back at him with warmth and love, and could muster nothing more than a shrug. Disappointed in himself, he let his eyes drift away from Holly and to the refrigerator. It was there that he saw the photographs of Olivia and Megan in all phases of life. He’d seen them a hundred times before, but it occurred to him that he’d never really looked at them. He moved toward the pictures.
The smiling, happy faces of Megan and Olivia stared playfully back at Jack. Photos of them building a snowman, arm in arm in front of Megan’s murals, Olivia in last year’s school play—and then he saw, really saw, Olivia’s face. Her dimples mirrored his own, her hair fell straight, in stark contrast to Megan’s curls. Jack reached up and touched his own fine hair. I’m reading too much into this. She could look like Peter, or even Holly for that matter. Jack turned his back and walked away.
He gazed into the yard, unable to stop his mind from wandering down that path. Could Olivia be my child? Why wouldn’t Megan have told me? He quickly did the math in his head, something he had never thought to do, and realized, with a shock, that Olivia could, in fact, be his daughter.
Compelled by something he did not understand, yet felt bound to follow, he placed his hand against the glass of the kitchen window. A flow of warm air whipped through him, though the window was closed. As he stood paralyzed and perplexed, It was for the best, filtered into his ear like a whisper.
Chapter Six
Olivia walked outside dressed in her black knee-length silk dress, the one her mother had bought her when they had gone to see Rent, the musical. The morning was brisk, and she thought for a moment about walking back inside and grabbing her sweater, but decided against it because her high heels were hard to walk in and she was already halfway to the car. She took in the light blue sky and the few clouds that meandered slowly above her, wondering if her mother was nearby. She couldn’t shake the feeling that cremation couldn’t have been what her mother had wanted. If she were cremated, would that mean that she was really gone, truly gone, forever? She never had a chance to ask her mother what happened to someone’s soul after they were cremated, but she’d assumed it wasn’t good. This unknown rode heavily on her shoulders. She fiddled with her dress and began to sweat under her arms which annoyed her. Nerves! She hated them. Even on a chilly day she would be the sweaty girl! Urgh!
“Come on, Jack, we’ll be late,” Holly said.
Jack finished tying his tie and rubbed his hands down the front of his black suit. “I’m coming,” he said, quietly. He looked at Holly, whose blue dress against her tanned skin took his breath away. Jack hadn’t been able to think of anything other than Megan and their weekend together since the other night in Megan’s kitchen. He couldn’t help but wonder if Olivia was his child. It would be just like Megan, given the circumstances when she had arrived back in town and found that he and Holly were a couple, to withhold that information in an effort not to hurt them. God damn it.
He reached into his pocket where he’d safely stashed Megan’s Yin necklace. “Do you think Olivia is okay?” he asked.
Holly rushed around the bedroom, agitated. She dropped to her knees in the closet and tossed out shoe after shoe, looking for her high heels. “Aha!” She slipped them on and found dangling earrings to match her dress. “Ready!” She slowed for a moment and looked out the window. “Would you be if Megan were your mom?” she asked.
“No, I guess not,” Jack said. He stood behind Holly at the window. They watched Olivia, sitting in the back of Jack’s car, fiddling with the edge of her dress. “Poor girl.”
Holly patted his hand and walked toward the door. “We all miss her. We’ll help Olivia, Jack. We’ll get her through this.” If only you knew. You could help her more than anyone else. How do I tell you that Megan raised the daughter that I never could? Holly nestled the thoughts back into the confines of her
busy mind and headed toward the stairs. Her own guilt kept her tears at bay.
“Holly, are you sure this is what Mom wanted? I mean, cremation is so…final,” Olivia said from the back seat of the car.
Holly turned to face her and was momentarily struck by her beauty. She had to blink a few times to ward off her tears. “Yes, Olivia, I’m quite sure. Ever since we were young, your mother had a real aversion to being buried. We used to walk through the graveyards near my mom’s house, and your mom would talk all about what happened to the bodies after they were buried. She said it grossed her out. Let’s just say she really didn’t want to be in the ground.” She smiled at Olivia.
“That sounds like Mom.” Olivia looked out the window at the passing trees. “But what happens to her after? You know, after they cremate her, what happens to her?” The pain in Olivia’s voice tugged on Jack’s heart.
“It’s simple, Livi,” he said. “Your body is like a peanut shell, and your soul is like the peanut. Once someone passes on, their soul, or the peanut, lifts from them and moves into their next life. The body is like the empty shell. It’s a physical structure, but it’s empty.” He looked in the rearview mirror and watched Olivia contemplate his words.
“I guess you could be right,” she said.
“Where did you hear that, Jack? That’s a wonderful way of explaining it.” Holly looked at Olivia. “He’s right, you know, he’s exactly right. The body is simply an empty frame. The important part, the soul, lives on.”
“I heard it,” Jack began, glancing again in the rearview mirror, “from Olivia’s mother.”
“Mom told you that?” Olivia asked.
“Mm-hmm, it’s funny, I hadn’t remembered that until just now,” Jack smiled at Holly.
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