Megan's Way
Page 17
Reverberations from the applause could be felt all the way up in Megan’s world. She reached down toward Holly, and whispered, “No, Hol, thank you!”
Holly closed her eyes just as Megan’s words swept into her ears like a rush of warm air. Shaken, she opened her eyes quickly and brought her hands to her mouth. As her knees began to buckle, she felt Jack’s strong hands on her waist from behind, guiding her back to her seat, where she instinctively held Olivia’s hand in her own.
Megan was touched as each of the guests came to the front, as they felt compelled to do so, and spoke of who she was and what she had meant to them. Much of what was said surprised her. She hadn’t thought of herself as being interesting, or prolific. She certainly didn’t feel as though she had reached out in any significant way to the people who spoke so warmly about her. That saddened her, too. Was she all that they made her out to be? Had she not been and they merely wished she were? Had she been a good friend, a good student, a caring partner on projects? Her head swam in circles.
Lawrence Childs stood before the group. For the first time, she saw, really saw, the emptiness in his eyes. Those eyes that were always so full of life and seemed so endless, appeared dull and sullen. The fact that he had come forward was not a surprise to Megan, but as his story unfolded, she was completely taken aback. She listened intently, watching him move his arms about, as if he were directing a symphony. His navy blue suit moved through the air with a comfort that she rarely saw in other people when she had been on earth, yet Lawrence had seemed to emote from the very moment they met. His voice was soft, yet intent, as though each word was vitally important.
Lawrence told of the first time he had seen Megan, which had not been at the flea market, as she had thought.
“I feel a little like an imposter, when it comes to Megan.” His voice instantly made her form turn a vibrant red. “You see,” he looked down at his hands, then back at the crowd, “I adored her. At first, it was her talent that had caught my eye. When she was a sophomore at the Rhode island School of Design, I happened to be visiting one of my old professors. He brought me to meet Megan’s art professor, and it was there, in his class, that I first saw her art on display.” He looked to the sky. A tear slowly made its way down his flawless cheek. “It took my breath away. I went back each day for a week to the classroom. I…I spied on her,” he spat his confession, embarrassed and hushed. “I lingered outside the classroom just to catch a glimpse of her.” He looked at Holly, and then to Olivia and Jack. “She never knew, but once I saw the creature that brought such beautiful art to life, well, her energy captivated me. She was like a burst of sunlight on a dreary day.”
Megan tried to pull memories from that time from the recesses of her mind. She was unable to recall ever having seen Lawrence on campus. She tilted her head and listened for more.
“I followed her art through her teacher, her progress, and her shows. When I finally got up the courage to approach her at the flea market, which was years later, I actually had a hard time speaking. I remember taking her hand in mine and feeling this…” he looked again to the sky, and brought his right hand to his chest, “well…she stole my heart the moment we touched. She was more than beautiful—she was life itself, vibrant and interesting. Megan brought her deepest thoughts out through her artwork, her murals. And what I learned, as I watched her grow over the years, is that she didn’t compromise her values or her opinions. She lived them. She valued herself and her dreams.” He grasped for just the right words. “To encounter Megan was to encounter an amazingly spiritual being. Lord forgive me, I never let Megan know how I felt.” Lawrence stopped speaking to wipe his eyes with his handkerchief. He held a hand up to the silent crowd, “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I feel like you need to know this, but I do. I’ve been silent too long. I’ve lost the woman whom I have come to believe was the love of my life.”
There was a collective gasp. Holly put her arm around Olivia. Jack looked behind Olivia and winked at Holly. She couldn’t help but feel sad for her friend, having missed out on such a wonderful man. She wished Megan could have been completed by finding her soul mate and experiencing the love and happiness that she had deserved.
Lawrence began again, “Around Megan, I was another person altogether, and yet, this warm, loving woman, who so touched my life, also scared me. I felt so much for her, and I didn’t know how to make it okay. I suppose I just want to say to her, to Megan, you were an inspiration to me. You touched my life. You gave me a friendship without demands and filled my heart with happiness. It made me happy to see you whole, you and Olivia. I’m a better person for knowing you.” He lowered his head. “Megan was so confident in her life, so complete, and shortly after we met, she was pregnant with Olivia.” Lawrence looked around at the questioning eyes that looked upon him. “I wish Olivia had been my child,” he took a deep breath. “I wish that Megan and I could have remained together, had a family.”
Olivia let out a little laugh and instinctively darted her eyes toward Jack. Holly and Jack tightened their embrace around her shoulders.
“I didn’t want to disrupt Megan’s life. I always thought, at some point, we might find each other in that way, and I would tell her how I felt, but the time never came. In all the years since, we were so comfortable in our relationship for what it was, that I was scared to step out of that—scared that I might mess up and lose what was so perfect. I was satisfied with the part of Megan that she gave me, and afraid to ask for more.” He took two steps forward and bowed his head, his hands clasped under his chin. “Thank you for listening. I should have said all of this to Megan. I do love her, even now, when she is beyond my reach.” With this confession, he walked slowly to his seat.
There were hushed whispers as he made his way around the chairs, the murmurs reached the heavens and snapped Megan out of her trance-like state. The river flowing below her was as blue as Lawrence’s eyes, and rushed in a calm, even flow toward the clouds. Megan worried that it might dampen the afternoon and whooshed herself through the air in one fluid, graceful movement until she lay across the cloud. The river redirected above her form, never touching it, as if instinct drove it higher into the sky, and it disappeared into the vast abyss far above the clouds.
Megan swooped down toward earth, trying to reach Lawrence. She was close enough to feel his heat, yet he was oblivious to her. She reached out to touch his arm.
He rubbed his arm, as if a bug had landed there. He looked down at the spot he has just rubbed, and peered intently, looking for the prickle that he felt.
She tried again, reaching out and placing her palm on top of his. She closed her eyes, somehow understanding, knowing that he had to believe, really believe, in order to feel her touch. She was not sure how she knew that, but she had no question it was so.
Megan’s scent reached his senses, and Lawrence found himself looking for her, expecting her to be right beside him. He took a long, deep breath, but the scent was gone, as if it had been swept away with the wind. She realized she wouldn’t be able to reach him and regretfully, pulled away.
When the din around the lighthouse quieted, and it was clear that everyone who wished to speak had done so, Jack came forward. His eyes were red, his face strained, saddened. He stood silently for a moment, his hand clasped in front of his mouth, his eyes closed. The guests were silent, waiting. He looked up and took in all of Megan’s friends and family. His heart panged with hurt and sadness. Jack closed his eyes again and took another deep breath, inhaling the taste of the ocean and remembering their one intimate weekend together.
Just as the whispers began, Jack opened his eyes and looked toward the sea. He smiled. His words came lightly, warm, and full of love. “Thank you for coming to say goodbye to Megan. She was a special person to us all.” He looked at the faces of those who had known Megan, who loved her. He saw smiles and tears, and understood both. “Megan was someone that took no figuring out. The person she was was the one that she let us all see.” He looked at Lawr
ence, “She loved you, Lawrence.”
Lawrence bowed his head, closed his eyes, and nodded. “She loved each of you.” He stretched out his hands, palms up, and brought them around his body to rest at his sides. “Megan knew she was going to pass on. She tried, even in death, to make life less painful for each of us. She was protecting us.” Jack eyed Olivia, who was listening intently to his words. He winked, and she smiled and then looked down, absently fingering her tear-soaked tissue. “Megan isn’t gone, you know. She is still with us. She lives on in Olivia and in our hearts.”
Jack walked to the tiger lilies that were artfully arranged at either the side of the first row of chairs. He took a flower in each hand and passed it down the row of people, who in turn passed it along to the next, and so on. He continued this with each row until each person held a beautiful bright orange-and-salmon lily in his hand. The tall stems raised the flowers high. Jack walked back to the front of the group and held the flower up above his head, toward the sky.
“These were Megan’s favorite flowers.” He lowered the flower and held it against his heart. “I remember when we were kids at summer camp. She would sneak off to the woods just to find them and stealthily sneak back with a bundle of lilies under her arm.” He laughed at the memory, at the happiness it had brought her. “She did this at least once each week, year after year. Each and every time she was scolded by the counselors for sneaking off, but she didn’t care. Megan would give each counselor a flower and apologize. She always kept one for herself and one for me. She had those hidden, though. She stashed them at the edge of the forest. She would sneak out late at night and retrieve the flowers, then come to my bunk, the boys’ bunk, sneak in, and lay one next to me while I slept.” He looked down. “I hadn’t remembered that until just now.” Jack looked toward Holly, whose face was wet with fresh tears. “Megan let us all know she loved us. She had her ways, even without words. I think she would have liked to say thank you to each of you for seeing her off. She would have given you these flowers herself had she been here. It was her way—silent, meaningful. Thank you.” He raised the flower to his nose, breathed in deeply, and walked back to his seat.
The ceremony came to an end, and the guests mingled in small groups. Megan felt Olivia’s sadness before she saw her. She swooped down and scanned the beach. Where is she? Olivia? Reach out to me.
Olivia was hidden in the dune grass on the side of the lighthouse that faced the ocean, tucked tight within herself—her knees pulled in to her chest, arms wrapped around them, her head buried in between. Oh, Mom, she thought. You are really gone. What am I going to do without you? Tears streaked her sullen face. I can’t do this, Mom. I can’t go on without you. You shouldn’t have left me. I thought I could do it, but I can’t. I’m not strong enough!
Megan was drawn to her. It was as if a force were pulling her form through the clouds and toward the lighthouse. She passed the enormous light on the top, which was dormant in the summer sun. Her form glided around the lighthouse, worked its way toward the grass on the far side. She swept down behind Olivia, recognizing the top of her silky hair and holding back her own tears at the sight of her daughter’s pain.
You must go on, Olivia. I filled your heart with love, as you did mine. You have a wonderful life ahead of you. Live your life. Please, live your life. I am here for you. I will always be here for you.
Megan reached out and tried to touch Olivia’s shoulder. Though Megan could not feel her daughter’s youthful skin, she saw Olivia’s muscles in her arms grow tense. Good. Feel me, Livi. I’m here. You’re okay.
Olivia felt warmth on her shoulder. She sniffled as she lifted her head slowly. The faint smell of lavender and coconut wafted through the air. Mom? “Mom?” she said softly. Her heart pounded in her chest. Her body began to tremble. She turned her head swiftly from side to side, waiting to see her appear. “Mom, are you here?” she asked anxiously.
Yes! Yes, baby, I’m here!
“Mom? I…I felt you,” Olivia whispered as she stood and looked around frantically.
Megan put her hands on Olivia’s shoulders again, hovering in front of her, willing her to feel her presence. I’m here, Livi. I’m here!
Olivia smiled, sighed, oblivious to her mother’s words. Her eyes darted from left to right. “I know you’re here somewhere, Mom. I can feel you,” then added, sadly, “but why can’t I see you?”
“Peter, I’m so glad that you brought Cruz with you,” Holly smiled at Cruz, then at Peter.
“It was about time, huh?” Peter squeezed Cruz’s hand. “Megan?” Holly asked, knowingly.
“Yeah, Megan. She made me realize that life doesn’t go on forever. I can’t sit around and hope Cruz will stick by me for however long it takes.” He put his arm around Cruz.
Cruz squinted his dark eyes and said, “You know I’d wait. You and I, we’re like…I don’t know, peanut butter and chocolate, I guess. We go together whether you want us to or not.” He smiled.
“Well, I’m glad you are sticking around, Cruz, because Peter can be a royal pain in the ass! I’ll need someone else for him to bother,” she laughed.
“That’s not fair, my mother—”
Holly interrupted, “I know, your mother left you when you were small. Peter, I feel for you, I really do, but it’s about time that you let that crutch go and decide to let Cruz in.” She put her arm around Cruz, who nuzzled into her and let go of Peter’s hand. “Really let him in, Peter. He’s a great guy, and he’s not your mother!”
Peter kicked at a stone. “I know. It’s hard to trust. I should probably go back to therapy or something.”
“Whatever it takes, P,” Cruz said encouragingly.
“Guys, where’s Olivia?” Holly asked, suddenly aware of her missing presence.
“I saw her earlier. She was walking around the lighthouse.” Cruz started off toward the lighthouse. “C’mon, we’ll check it out.”
Peter took his hand. Holly hurried beside them. “Jack,” she called out, “where’s Olivia?”
Concerned, Jack looked around, motioned with a shrug, his palms held up. “I’ll look around,” he yelled.
Olivia heard a rustling of feet through the dune grass. She turned toward the sound and wiped her eyes.
“Hey.”
Olivia turned at the sound of the boy’s voice. “Over here,” he said.
This time Olivia followed his voice. Behind a bundle of bushes she saw a boy who appeared about her age. He smiled, flashed a row of perfectly straight white teeth and deep-set dimples. Olivia smiled back and answered tentatively, “Hey.”
“They’re coming to find you,” he said. “If you hurry, you can hide in here with me.”
Olivia thought for a moment about the last time she went with a boy she didn’t know. A chill ran down her back. Her hesitation reflected in her immediate frown. She looked toward the encroaching voices and back at the boy. He looks nice. “What are you doing back there?” she whispered loudly.
“Watching you,” he said. Jason peered out of the bushes at the people milling about, the flowers, the chairs set up like little soldiers. Then he noticed the clothes—everyone was dressed in black, “Was there a funeral or something? You look so sad.”
“Yeah. Well, kinda anyway.” She walked slowly toward the bushes.
“They’re coming! Quick, back here!” he said and ducked behind the bushes.
Olivia lifted her dress away from the prickly leaves and crouched behind the bushes. She was eye to eye with the lanky boy.
His hazel eyes danced with delight and mischief as he flicked his chestnut hair off of his forehead with a quick jerk of his head. His long bangs fell immediately back in place just above his brown eyes. “Hey,” he said quietly.
His voice sent chills down Olivia’s spine, landing in the pit of her stomach. “Hey,” she whispered back.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, sure,” Olivia said. “Why are you here? in the bushes, I mean.”
“My name�
�s Jason,” he said. He reached out and shook her hand.
“Olivia.” His hand was warm. His long boney fingers were much longer than Olivia’s. He held her hand for just a second longer than was necessary, and despite herself, butterflies rushed through Olivia. She cleared her throat.
“What are you doing here?” she asked again.
“I live over there.” He pointed to a Cape Cod-style home with additions on both sides and a large deck that overlooked the water. “I saw you guys come into the parking lot, so I came to see what was going on. I watched the service, or whatever it was.” Jason looked at the lighthouse and the people milling around it. He whispered, “Why were you alone?”
Olivia watched Holly and Peter, wondering, she knew, where she could possibly have gone. They would be frightened for her safety. She felt badly for hiding, but desperately wanted to be alone—but she was not alone, and suddenly she felt as though it was okay not to be alone. “I just wanted to be.” She looked back at him and felt that funny tingle run up her body again.
“I know what you mean,” Jason said. He turned his back to Olivia and motioned for her to follow him.
“Where are we going?” Olivia asked. She wasn’t sure she should follow him. She looked back over her shoulder at Holly who was beginning to get frantic. “I should tell them where I’m going,” she said and turned toward the lighthouse.
“I thought you wanted to ditch them,” he said.
“I didn’t really want to ditch them. I just didn’t want to be with them—or anybody really.” She saw his face deflate, his smile quickly fade. “I don’t mean you. I mean, I didn’t know you. I’ll still hang out, but just let me tell them so they don’t worry.”
Immediately his smile returned, his face lightened. “Okay. Want me to come?”