A Colorful Life: Drawn in Broken Crayon

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A Colorful Life: Drawn in Broken Crayon Page 6

by Melissa Storm


  "Wow, fourteen hours? That's crazy! I get bored if I spend more than, like, five minutes on a single drawing. Let alone fourteen hours. Talk about torture!"

  "Well, not me. Art is my soul, so that fourteen hours was very well spent."

  Even the thought of slaving over something so boring made Meghann shudder. "Maybe for you, but not me."

  "Okay, so art's not your passion, but everybody has something."

  "I guess." Meghann gazed out the window. Hardly five minutes into their outing, and it became clear she couldn't avoid sharing her secret for much longer.

  Daly responded exactly how Meghann expected her to. "Everybody has something. What's your thing?"

  "My thing?" Meghann played dumb even though she understood what Daly meant. In, out. Breathe, breathe.

  "Your passion. Your life force. Your art."

  "I... well, I used to be amazing at track. I could run and run and never stop. Obviously, I can't do that anymore." She frowned and tapped her chin.

  "Why not? If you like to run, then you should run."

  "It's not so simple." She placed a hand on her belly, her surefire way to draw strength. Did this baby understand how much he meant to her already?

  Daly must have sensed the seriousness of the looming conversation, because she pulled the car into the gravel parking lot. "What do you mean? Of course it's simple." She unbuckled her seatbelt and removed the key from the ignition.

  Meghann remained belted into place. Daly just didn't understand. How could she?

  "If you love to do something, then nothing should stop you from doing it," Daly insisted.

  "I wish that were true. Believe me."

  "Look, I'll listen if you want to tell me, but I won't force you. I'm here for you if you want to talk."

  Meghann thought this sounded exactly like something a school guidance counselor might say. She pictured Daly wearing spectacles and a pencil skirt, pushing a box of tissues at her.

  No, Daly is my friend. She cares because she wants to, not because someone pays her to. She took a long, shaky breath. "Well, for one thing, I won't be going back to school. My parents, they say I need to either give the baby up for adoption, or leave."

  Daly nodded and averted her gaze to the floor, failing to hide the frown that worked its way across her face.

  Meghann hesitated, turning to her friend with longing in her heart. "I can't give him up, Daly. I just can't. I love this baby. It may seem silly, since I haven't even met him. I'm not even sure he'll be a he, but I love him all the same. Yeah, he's made things hard for me in a way nothing else could, but I love him. I really love him."

  Daly gave Meghann's hand a squeeze. "I know you do."

  Meghann used her free hand to push a stray strand of hair behind her ear and swallowed hard. "So I won't be able to go back to school, because I'll need to get a job to support me and the baby. If I don't go back to school, I won't be able to join the track team."

  "This may all seem impossible now, but things have a way of working out, if you trust in fate," Daly assured her. A mysterious twinkle lit her eyes. "That's something I've learned recently."

  "How can you be sure, though? Nothing like this has ever happened to you."

  "That's true, but—"

  "Even if I did find time to work a full-time job, and take care of the baby, and go to school, I couldn't rejoin the team." She paused and, looking up from her knees, fixed her gaze on Daly. "He's on the team. In fact, he's the star of it. Not only can he sprint a mile in five minutes flat—I swear he can—he can also throw a mean discus. He's the bread and butter of that team."

  Daly nodded sympathetically. A strand of dark hair shimmied loose from her low-slung ponytail.

  "That's how it happened, actually. Because of track." Meghann glanced down to her belly, rubbing the baby inside with tenderness.

  "I don't understand…"

  It's time, Meghann told herself. Push, push. Get the words out fast, then it will be done.

  "At the end of eighth grade track, the school threw a reception for everyone to introduce them to the high school runners. I met Josh there." Even after so many months had passed, speaking his name sucked the life out of her.

  "He flirted with me a little," she continued. "And I was so thrilled this gorgeous, popular older boy was paying attention to me. He invited me to another party, a cooler one with drinking and no adult supervision. Of course, I went, even though I wish I hadn't. I thought I'd be all set for high school. I would have this steady boyfriend who was cool, someone other kids looked up to. We danced for a while and kissed a little bit. Then Josh gave me a drink."

  She winced, recalling all the choices leading up to where she found herself now. Telling Daly about them only deepened her shame.

  "I'd never had beer before, and even though drinking destroyed my stepfather's life, I took it. I just wanted Josh to like me. It tasted weird, but I pretended to like it and finished the entire glass in one quick chug. A little while later, I started feeling really wild—really happy. Then the next thing I remember, Josh is taking me upstairs to one of the bedrooms, and... Well, we did it, though I hardly remember that part."

  As much as she loved her baby, she still hated what had happened. She never should have agreed to take the drink or to go with Josh to the upstairs bedroom. She couldn't blame Josh, or her upbringing, or peer pressure; she'd been the one to make the choices. She gritted her teeth and continued to the most painful part of her story.

  "I didn't see him again until a week later. He acted like nothing had happened. I thought he'd be my boyfriend, but no. He just used me. Everyone knew about it, too. They saw me all over him at the party, and watched us go upstairs together. He told everyone the rest, even though they didn't need him to fill in the blanks. They called me a slut, even though normally, I would never do anything like that. I hadn't been myself that night. I'm still not sure why. Your mom says drugs might've been mixed in with the drink, but there's no way to know that now.

  "Things got bad fast. Guys kept coming up to me and asking me to give them BJs in the bathroom. Girls didn't like me because I got all the attention, even though I didn't want it. Every day was the exact same—girls talking bad about me and giving me dirty looks, guys taunting me and asking for cheap sex. No one liked me. Nobody wanted to friend the school whore. Things were bad at home, too. I couldn't handle it all.

  "One night, I took the blades out of my stepdad's razor, held them over my arm, and pushed down as hard as I could. Turns out it wasn't hard enough. Yet another thing I couldn't do right. Couldn't even kill myself properly. When I woke up, a bright light shone in my eyes. A doctor came in and said she understood the challenges of being a young mom, but that didn't give me the right to take my life. After all, I would be taking two lives. Anyway, that's how I found out about the baby. My mother and stepfather were pissed. They had the perfect life, except for me. I was the one problem. Anyway, I'm sure you can imagine their thoughts on the matter."

  Meghann's heart clenched. She couldn't speak anymore. She waited for Daly to say something, to tell her she understood, to tell her they'd still be friends.

  The older girl's neck was tucked into her chin as she stared down at her hands, her walnut eyes wide, a frightened expression on her face.

  She clutched Meghann's knee and whispered, "I had no idea. I'm so sorry."

  Meghann's voice returned to its normal cadence. The hard part was over. She felt safe again. "At first I had a hard time, taking everything in, realizing I'd be raising a baby all by myself. I even thought about getting rid of him—but then something inside me changed. Somehow I realized my life was finally worth living and everything would be all right."

  "You're so brave. I admire that." Daly shook her head again and brought her gaze up to meet Meghann's.

  Meghann pointed toward the car's ceiling. "The Lord God's helping me through. He's holding my shoulders, pointing me in the right direction, and He'll take care of me as long as I let Him."


  "I... I've never believed in a god. Especially after hearing a story like yours."

  Meghann's heart cried out for her new friend, but she wasn't one to force her beliefs on others. Maybe she could serve as an example and lead Daly into the Lord's flock. "It's not about believing or not believing. When God works in your life, you can't have any doubt."

  Daly fell silent and tugged at the skin on her elbow. Was she searching for a kind way to disagree with Meghann's spiritual proclamation without offending her?

  Meghann decided to save her friend from the discomfort. "I'm sorry. I don't want to preach at you. Everyone's relationship with God is personal. It's not my place."

  "No, honestly, I admire your faith, but... aren't you scared?"

  "Sometimes, yes, but I try not to dwell on things I can't change. This is my life now." She patted her stomach. "I need to prepare for the road ahead, rather than waste time wondering why it's so bumpy. Every day gets a little easier."

  "What's your plan?"

  "I'm finishing the fall semester while I prepare for the GED. That was your mom's idea. Normally, they don't let people under sixteen take the test, but she pulled some strings so they'd let me take my exam before the baby's born. She gave me a study book and says she'll even help me find a job once I'm ready."

  "Mom's been helping you with all that?" Daly grimaced. "I didn't realize...."

  "She's been helping me in whatever way I need, from dealing with my feelings to helping me fix dinner. She's a wonderful person, and I'm thankful to have her in my life."

  Daly exhaled and stretched out in her seat. "I wish I felt the same way."

  "Why don't you?"

  "You've seen how she is with me. She's not the same."

  "It takes two people to make a relationship work."

  Daly's voice turned sharp. "Are you saying it's my fault we're not close anymore?"

  "No, but I'm saying you two can become close again, and maybe it will be because of you."

  Daly collapsed back into the driver's seat without another word.

  "I haven't known either of you for long," Meghann continued. "But I love you both already. You act different with me than with her, don't you?"

  "Yes, but so does she."

  Meghann nodded. "It's like you're both afraid, but you don't need to be. You're coming from the same place, two amazing women, more alike than either of you realize."

  "You don't understand. I've tried. It's impossible to get through to her—at least, for me."

  "'Behold I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I'll come in.' Jesus said that, but I think his words apply here. If you genuinely open up to her, she won't turn you away." Meghann stroked Daly's arm in a maternal manner. "She's your mother, Daly. Trust me, every mother loves her baby, forever, no matter what."

  A million thoughts worked themselves across Daly's face, but she said nothing.

  Meghann reached across the bench-like seat and gave her a hug. "Just think about it. Anyway, didn't you promise me a walk? Let's go."

  Chapter 7

  Life is unpredictable. Horror often breeds beauty, and kindness may father rejection.

  After their walk around Seymour Lake Park and a quick dinner, Daly dropped Meghann off at home. She was shocked to discover a sprawling two-story estate with finely manicured gardens, and an expensive luxury car peeking out from its garage. Somehow, she had pictured them living on top of each other in a moldy trailer home.

  After some hemming and hawing, Meghann invited her in to meet her parents. "Daly, this is my mom, Diane." Meghann motioned from one woman to the other. "Mom, this is Mrs. Daly's daughter, Daly."

  Meghann's mother offered Daly her hand. "Hello, Daly. Would you like anything to drink?" Though she seemed friendly enough, her smile never reached her eyes.

  "No, thank you. I can't stay long."

  "Um, Dad, this is—"

  The stepfather mumbled, "Yeah, hi," and closed himself into another room with the slam of a door.

  Meghann's mother had her daughter's eyes and hair, but a rounder face and lines that told of hard years. During the entire visit, Meghann's mother never once left the two alone. She hovered nearby but said almost nothing.

  After about fifteen minutes, it was clear Daly had overstayed her welcome. "I should probably go," she said as she stood. "Thanks for a fantastic day, Meghann. I'll see you later, okay?"

  "Sounds awesome!" Meghann hugged her.

  Daly shook the fidgety mother's hand and headed out to her car.

  During the drive home, she thought about her life. Meghann's story had opened something inside her. Despite her youth, the girl seemed to have the most important parts of life figured out. And her advice was good, too. Daly should at least try to take it—although she was sure that any attempt to mend her relationship with Laine would fall on deaf ears. What had Meghann said? Something about patience being an underrated virtue.

  Daly had longed for it not to matter to her, to be able to ignore their wounded relationship until it dissolved—but no, that was the coward's way out. She wanted to be brave like her new friend. Being brave meant facing her fears head-on; it meant talking to Laine tonight.

  Her chest tightened as she curled her fingers around the worn steering wheel and forced herself to take deep, even breaths. You'll never know unless you try, right? Just get it over with, and you'll be free.

  Daly tried to borrow optimism from all the people she admired most—Meghann, Kashi, her father.

  Daddy. A pang hit her heart. She missed him so much, but could no longer blame his absence for her stilted life. Remaining stuck in the shadows of memory only served to keep the pain fresh, allowing the past to injure her time and time again.

  After all, if things weren't perfect, whom could she blame but herself?

  Historically, Daly had two ways of dealing with hardship: ignore any problem that came up, or, when that didn't work, blame somebody else. Her favorite scapegoat? Laine, of course.

  Over the past two years, she had placed the burden of responsibility on Rick more than he deserved. She now understood that he had been right in his own twisted way. They hadn't been right for each other, their relationship uneven and unproductive. Like he said, she hadn't opened up to him. It was time she took responsibility for her role in what happened, to learn from her mistakes, especially with a possible relationship with Kashi on the horizon.

  She wondered when they'd achieve their hat trick of fate. Daly still didn't understand why she was so intensely drawn to him. Perhaps this was why she had chosen to believe their story was driven by destiny. The thought of Kashi made her smile. His dark eyes, curly hair and goofy grin made her... made her—

  "Achoo-hoo!" Daly slammed on her breaks as a colossal sneeze ripped through her body.

  The driver behind her honked in agitation.

  She sniffed and ran her sleeve under her nose, then rolled down the window to wave an apology to the cars following her. Then she sneezed again, and again, and again. Admitting defeat, she pulled over to the narrow shoulder and waited for the fit to pass.

  Why hadn't she refilled the prescription for her allergy medicine? Of course, now her un-medicated hay fever decided to pop up, when the pharmacies were all closing up for the evening. On top of the lapsed prescription, she had spent much of the day outside in the park. A runny nose, swelling eyes, and a scratchy throat definitely wouldn't help her mood when she spoke to Laine later in the evening.

  She glanced at the digital clock on her dashboard. If she hurried, she might be able to get to the pharmacy before they closed. She blinked back fiery tears and drove the two miles to the nearest pharmacy, a newly built Walgreen's sandwiched into the same plaza as the Kroger and Blockbuster. She squeezed her vehicle between two large SUVs and ran inside.

  The pharmacy light still glowed at the back of the drugstore. Thank God! The technician rung up a withered old lady's large assortment of capsules with a scowl on his face. He was clearly eager to ge
t home, but, darn it, she needed her antihistamines—or else she'd explode in a burst of boogers and red eyes. She unapologetically placed herself in the drop-off line.

  The technician squinted at her and fixed his mouth in a tight bow.

  The old lady hobbled away, and Daly moved up to the counter.

  The technician didn't smile, nor did he ask how he could help her. Instead, he swiped his employee card and grabbed his jacket from under the register.

  "E-excuse me? Can you help me?" She hated him for putting her in this awkward spot. What happened to common decency?

  "My shift's over," he said. "Sorry."

  "Could somebody please—?"

  "Hey, Doc!" he yelled while shrugging into his motorcycle jacket. "I've gotta get going, or I'll be late. Someone's waiting for you up front. Bye!" The technician left without a second glance toward her.

  Daly waited, but after a few minutes, she worried that no one was left to fill her prescription. "Excuse me, hello?" she called back, placing her hands on the high counter and pushing herself up to see into the back of the store.

  "Yes, yes, I'm coming. Sorry for the wait," a man said, his alluring accent all too familiar.

  A moment later, Kashi appeared, wiping his hands off on the lapels of his lab coat as he walked toward the drop-off line. When at last he looked up, his eyes filled with mirth, and a sheepish grin crept to the corners of his face.

  "Why, hello, Miss Daly. Didn't I tell you we'd meet again?"

  "Yep." She gulped down the lump in her throat. "You sure did. I didn't know you were a pharmacist."

  "Indeed, I am. I guess it's my job to help you with your needs today. What can I do for you?"

  Daly said nothing. The delight in seeing Kashi made her forget why she had sought out the pharmacy in the first place.

  "You must be needing some medicine, yes?"

  "Oh, oh yes! Sorry, I need to get a refill on my Singulair."

  "Okay, one second while I pull up your account."

  Heat crept up her neck. "Actually, I don't think I've been here before. I usually go to Meijer, but it was far away, and—" Why are you rambling? Get to the point!

 

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