Page 94 of Now That It's You
Meg sighed. “Thanks, Mom. I still can’t believe I told you that.”
“Well, what were you going to do? Pretend that’s a bag of M&M’S? Besides, I think that’s pretty nice symbolism. Burning the penis of the man who broke your heart when he stuck it in someone else?”
“Beautifully put,” Kyle said.
Meg rolled her eyes at her mother. “A man who happens to be the departed brother of the man performing this ceremony for us right now. Show a little respect.”
“Sorry,” Patti said, looking up at Kyle. “Your brother had many fine qualities.”
“It’s okay,” Kyle said. “My brother chose cremation for himself. This is a fitting way to dispose of the last memento of his physical being.”
Meg nodded, glad he could look at it that way, or at least put up a good pretense of pretending he did. Honestly, Meg wasn’t sure she would be so cavalier about handling a replica of Kyle’s ex’s genitals.
Then again, she had stuck her head in that calla lily sculpture. Frankly, she was relieved he hadn’t chosen to torch that. He’d suggested it, but she’d pointed to the price tag and assured him his symbolic gesture would work just as well with an object that didn’t cost more than her car.
“Okay,” Kyle said, dropping the key into the crucible before pulling his glove on again. “I’m not a preacher or anything, but I feel like we ought to say a few words of remembrance.”
Meg nodded and took her mother’s hand. Patti squeezed her fingers, and the intensity of her mom’s grip gave Meg an unexpected surge of strength.
Kyle cleared his throat. “Here’s to memories of past loves, and the way they shape our future loves. We can’t forget them, but we can build from them, learn from them, and then let them go when the time comes.”
“Amen,” Patti said, squeezing Meg’s hand.
Meg stared at the velvet pouch, wondering why she hadn’t gotten rid of it before now. Nostalgia? Habit? Guilt? Or maybe mere forgetfulness.
Kyle looked at her, and Meg cleared her throat, wondering if she should say something, too. “Here’s to taking the best of what we learned from past relationships, and letting everything else go up in smoke.”
“Agreed.” Kyle picked up the crucible again and reached for a pair of wicked-looking tongs. He flipped down his face shield and looked at Meg. “You might want to take a few steps back.”
Still gripping her mother’s hand, Meg moved backward, stumbling a little over a discarded metal pipe. They stepped back until their spines pressed against the far wall. While Kyle stoked the flames in his forge, Meg turned to look at her mother.
“You okay?” she whispered.
Patti nodded and offered a faint smile. “Not yet. But I think I will be.”
“I’m proud of you, Mom.”
“Thank you, honey.” Patti glanced at Kyle, who was still focused on the forge. She leaned closer to Meg, her voice so low Meg had to strain to hear her.
“I’m proud of you, too,” Patti whispered. “I never told you that. After you left Matt? I told you I was sad for you and that I’d do anything I could to help. But I never told you I was proud. That you did the right thing.”
Meg felt tears pricking the back of her eyes. “Thank you.”
“It’s not our fault, you know. When men cheat? It’s taken me thirty-five years to realize that, but it’s true.”
Meg nodded, not sure she trusted herself to say anything. Or maybe she could manage one thing.
“I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too, baby.”
Kyle turned then and smiled at her, and Meg felt her whole body go liquid and warm. The studio was cozy around her, and the smell of smoke and hot metal hovered thick and heavy. Floral wisps of her mom’s perfume made a soft net over her, and Meg watched in fascination as Kyle picked up the crucible with the tongs.
“Ready?” he asked.
Meg looked at him, admiring the broadness of his shoulders, the muscles in his forearms, the creative genius of a mind that filled this whole studio with art and her whole life with something she hadn’t realized she was missing until this very moment.
“I’m ready,” Meg said, and gripped her mother’s hand.
