Page 16 of Tomorrow Belongs to Us
“I’d be happy for you to turn up at my doorstep.” I’ve revisited those memories more times than is healthy. “You’re pissed off, Megan. I know your moods.”
She raises her chin and holds it there, her eyes burning through me, fiery, feisty. It puts ideas in my head. I remember her moans and mewls, the way she opened herself up to me.
“It’s not good to delve into the past too much,” she announces, completely oblivious to the internal hurricane that ravages through me.
“But you need to know so that we can move on.”
She laughs. I cringe. She sees me as an old fool. “Ihavemoved on.”
I thought I had, too, but now that I’ve seen her again, I can’t. She has stoked something deep inside me, a longing that I’d been forced to deny. She’s stirred the deepest of my desires, something I can’t move on from and now it has awakened again.
It's not closure I need as much as connection. Even now, talking to her, it’s there—the invisible force that vibrates between us. “Give me this one chance to explain, and then I’ll never hassle you again.”
She seems to consider it.
“We could go somewhere for a drink,” I suggest, before she comes up with a good reason to get away. “One drink and one conversation and you won’t ever hear from me again.”
How can she refuse that?
“Coffee,” she answers.
Coffee, it is.
Chapter 8
11 years ago …
MEGAN
My sister's piercing shriek tears through the house.
“Meg!” Erica’s voice is hysterical. “Come quickly! It's mom!”
I fly off the bed and race into the hallway. I freeze on the spot. My mom’s lifeless body lies on the floor. Erica and Jensen are crouched beside her, crying.
“Mom, wake up!” Erica taps my mom’s face, then prods her chest. Jensen hugs his knees, sobbing.
Erica glances at me, her face wet with tears. “Do something!” Her scream pierces through me. I rush to her side, noting the empty bottle of pills. Erica moves out of the way and I lift my mother’s upper body.
“Mom? Mom?” I check her pulse. It’s there. A sliver of hope worms its way into my body. It’s faint, but it is there.
She’s alive, and I see the rise and fall of her chest, but guilt now pours over me that this has happened. It’s my fault. I’m the oldest and I should have seen this coming.
In the periphery of my vision I see Erica and Jensen huddling together, arms wrapped around each other. My heart breaks.
As if this family hasn’t suffered enough. I wished I’d been the one to find my mother, not them. I should have paid more attention to my mother’s moods. To her bouts of drinking, to her inability to get out of the bed after my father walked out.
“Mom! Mom! Mom, wake up!” I beg. Her eyes are closed, her mouth open. “Call 9-1-1!” I yell to my siblings. It feels as if the walls of the room have caved in around me. This is my fault. I’ve been so engrossed in studying for my final year exams, I missed this. I should have seen the warning signs: the wine bottles, the way my mother couldn't get out of bed, how she was constantly crying. How she fell apart after my father left.
A few hours later, I’m at the hospital. My mom is asleep. Her stomach has been pumped and she is resting.
I’m grateful for Aunt Cherie coming over to look after Jensen and Erica. She wanted to come to the hospital to see her sister, but I’m in charge of the family now, and it’s my responsibility to make sure my mom will be okay. I need to be here, and someone needs to be with Erica and Jensen.
The nurse comes in from time to time and checks the monitors, then tells me that my mom will be okay. I’ve been sitting by her side for hours, trying to study math but the formulae and theorems aren’t sticking. My brain is thick with fog.
“Try to get some rest,” the nurse tells me. She looks concerned, her soulful eyes somehow seeing deep inside me, as if she can see my pain. I manage a smile I don’t feel
“I will.” But I can’t rest any more than I can study for my exam tomorrow. I’ve called Shaun many times, needing someone to lean on but he’s not answering his phone. My best friend Arla is probably fast asleep, and I don’t want to disturb her.
