16. Meg
CHAPTER 16
MEG
I t was rare when Meg couldn’t sleep. It was something she’d always been grateful for, being able to lay down on any sort of remotely soft surface and just shut off. It was something that she’d inherited from her parents: the ability to sleep like the dead. Maybe it was because she was back under their roof and the whole atmosphere was like traveling back in time. Maybe it was because she was no longer working herself half to death and wasn’t passing out at every opportunity, desperate for just a little bit of rest.
She knew the reason she couldn’t sleep; she just didn’t want to admit it. The problem was that Meg couldn’t avoid thinking about the reason, no matter how hard she tried. Thoughts of Nash circled around her brain like water going down a drain. She would just start to drift off and snippets of conversation would start strolling through her mind, the beginnings of dreams weaving themselves together. Sitting in the treehouse he had made on the ranch. Doing other things in the treehouse. Sitting in another treehouse in another lifetime and promising to go to prom together, just as friends, of course. Standing alone at the same prom, heartbroken and flashing forward in time to Nash confessing that he had pushed her away on purpose. Because apparently everybody had a say in what she did with her life.
Then her eyes would flick open, sleep would be long gone, and Meg would have nothing to do but stare at the ceiling of her childhood bedroom. And that all got old very quickly.
At four in the morning, she’d had enough of twisting both herself and the bed sheets into knots. She threw them off with a huff and sat up. The sun would rise soon enough, and she could find a million things to distract herself with. She’d been back for a few days now and part of her felt like she had never left. Mostly she’d just been sleeping, which was super out of character for her. When she would stumble out of her room with bleary eyes, Meg expected to get a scolding from her parents for wasting the day. But they just told her to go back to bed if she needed it. Meg couldn’t quite fathom where this understanding attitude had come from until she overheard them talking in quiet voices about how exhausted she looked. Years of burnout from the industrial lots was finally catching up to her… The emotional exhaustion didn’t help either.
She padded out to the kitchen, not bothering with the overhead lights. There was enough of a glow from the windows. Toast would have to do; it was all she could be bothered with. Memories of going out to Nash’s kitchen, intending to make sandwiches and finding the leftovers he had arranged for her. Dreaming or awake, it didn’t matter; she couldn’t escape him. Standing in her parents’ kitchen, all she could do was think of Nash making her bacon and eggs after they’d been up all night, a newborn foal learning to stand in the stables. Now she was eating toast by herself.
The overhead light flicked on and she nearly jumped out of her skin when her mom appeared in the kitchen, wrapped up in a dressing gown.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Rebecca said with an apologetic smile, looking uncharacteristically disheveled.
“Sorry,” Meg said, grimacing a little. “I’m clearly too used to living on my own.”
Rebecca shrugged. “And so are we, but it’s all right. I wasn’t able to sleep much. I’m guessing you were having similar troubles.”
Meg hummed a half answer and slipped bread into the toaster. “Do you want any?”
“No, not this early.”
Rebecca sat at the table, watching Meg at the counter as if she were trying to read a book with too-small print. Meg started thinking that she would have been better off tossing and turning in bed. Then she felt guilty about thinking that. Fabulous. Another thought spiral ready to consume her; that was just what she needed…
“Would you like to talk about it?” her mom asked, still watching her. Meg swallowed a sigh.
“Am I acting like something’s wrong?”
“Yes,” Rebecca said dryly. “Sulking in the kitchen in the middle of the night is one thing. But calling and asking to stay here out of the blue was rather a red flag. You’re not exactly here that often.”
The guilt in Meg’s stomach started to grow, and it must have been obvious by the look on her face. Her mom just raised a hand with a small smile. “That’s not a bad thing, just an observation. And you’re welcome here, as long as you need. It’s no bother.”
The toast popped up with a mechanical clang, saving Meg from immediately having to think of an answer. Smearing peanut butter over her breakfast gave her another few seconds to avoid the conversation. But when she turned around, Rebecca was still there, seemingly determined to have a heart-to-heart, and Meg really didn’t know how to proceed. Had she ever sat down with her mom and just talked ? About feelings ? Not one instance came to mind.
There really was no choice but to sit down at the table with her and take an awkward bite of toast. Meg wished her mom had a cup of coffee or something, anything to fill her hands. Instead, they were just folded neatly on the table in front of her as she watched Meg eat.
“Me and Nash had a falling-out,” Meg said, despite herself. “Again.”
“Ah,” Rebecca said with a nod. “Losing his friendship the first time around hit you hard. I’m sorry, Meggy.”
Meg shrugged.
“What happened?” her mom asked.
“Why do you care?”
She hadn’t meant to say it. It just kind of slipped out. Rebecca looked surprised, shaking her head a little.
“Why wouldn’t I care?”
Meg just shook her head, mortified at how petulant she was being.
“Meg,” her mom said firmly. “Why wouldn’t I care?”
“It’s just…”
“Tell me.”
“It’ll hurt your feelings. I know it will.”
“Maybe that’s why I need to hear it.”
She wasn’t going to back down. Meg knew it. Meg was just so tired of trying to keep all her thoughts and feelings in check that she surrendered and said it all out loud.
“You never cared about me having friends,” she said. “You never cared about whether I was happy. You never cared about anything like that. I guess I’m wondering why you would care now?”
Rebecca looked blindsided. “Why would you think I never cared?”
“Because you only ever cared about my grades and how many extra minutes of studying I could fit into a day. Nothing mattered except succeeding. Having a social life didn’t matter. Having fun didn’t matter. Schoolwork was the only thing that mattered.”
It came out heated and too pointed, but Meg was too exhausted to care anymore.
Rebecca frowned. “We were maybe a little… too strict.”
Meg snorted. She hadn’t meant to. It just came out, a reaction born from years of suppressing any sort of sarcasm around her parents. Rebecca’s eyebrows shot up.
“We weren’t that bad, surely.”
Something in Meg snapped then; all those years of being restrained and quiet and trying to keep the peace just… broke her. Meg opened her mouth and launched into a rant before her mom could draw breath.
“I was never allowed to do anything if it didn’t contribute to schoolwork. If someone at school had a party, then I wasn’t allowed to go because that was a whole six hours that could be spent doing homework. Because God forbid I get a B plus and not an A. You wonder why Nash was my only friend all those years? It’s because he was the only one who was willing to put up with it. He was the only one who bothered to understand how much pressure I was under.
“And yeah, I ended up going to college in Texas, but the main factor was Nash ditching me, the reason for which I only found out ten years later . Otherwise, I would have stayed here and I can’t even begin to imagine how hard you would have flipped out if I’d tried to put my foot down about it. You never even thought of giving me a choice about what I was going to do in school or after it. Thank God I wanted to go into vet medicine because then at least it was worthwhile.”
She had to pause to take in a deep breath and promptly shut her mouth when she registered the look on her mom’s face. Her eyes were wide, her mouth pressed thin, and with the light shining just right, Meg could see a sheen of tears starting as well.
“That’s why you never visit?” she asked, and God, her voice was so small. Meg had never heard her mom’s voice like that, ever.
Meg rubbed her face and the rough calluses on her palms scratched her cheeks.
“I needed a break,” she said, voice flat. “I needed a break from you.”
It was harsh; she knew that. This whole thing was harsh and horrible, but now that she had started saying what she actually felt, she didn’t know how to stop. And maybe harsh was okay? Now that Meg was an adult, maybe they needed to burn their old relationship to the ground in order to build something new. She wanted to build something new.
“I suppose…” Rebecca started, smoothing out the edge of the tablecloth. “I suppose I don’t blame you, then. If you don’t love us because of all that. We were just trying our best, that’s all. We wanted the absolute best for you.”
“It’s not that I don’t love you, Mom,” Meg said, working hard to keep a calm and neutral tone. “I tried so hard all the time because I loved you. I just wanted you to say good job. Well done. This has all been worth it. We’re impressed with how you’re doing. I just wanted you to say anything other than ‘now do better next time.’”
There was another pause. While Meg’s words were flowing out of her like a faucet, Rebecca didn’t seem to know what to say.
“Well,” she said after collecting her thoughts. “I thought all of that went without saying. Of course we were proud of you. Are proud of you. Of course you excelled because you’re excellent . You always have been. I thought it was obvious how pleased we were with you — with where you’ve ended up. I suppose… I suppose we assumed wrong.”
It healed something in Meg to hear her say that. Part of her must have known all along that that was how they’d felt. It was why she’d never stopped loving them. But to hear it… all she had needed was to hear the words being said. Maybe there would be cracks between them; maybe there always would be. And even though it was teenage Meg who had needed to hear her mom say it most, at least it was better late than never.
“I don’t hate you,” Meg said softly. “You know that, right? I can be angry and also not hate you.”
Rebecca nodded solemnly. “I am proud of you, Meggy. I’ll be sure to say it out loud from now on.”
There was an awkward silence, and Rebecca cleared her throat.
“Is there anything else that needs to be said?” she chirped, suddenly businesslike. “Any other skeletons that need to be cleaned out of the closet?”
“I used to sneak out.”
Her mom blinked at her, looking more like an owl than ever. “I beg your pardon?”
“In high school. I would sneak out at night and go hang out with Nash.”
“How often did you do that?”
“Like four times a week.”
Her mom’s mouth hung open like the hinge of her jaw was broken. “Wha— How?”
“You guys sleep like the dead. It wasn’t hard.”
Her mom took a deep breath and shook her head. “Well. The more you know. Any other secrets to divulge while we’re at it?”
“Can you handle any more?”
“Not really, no.”
“Then no. No more secrets.”
“Good. Sneaking out… my word.”
A smile crept onto her mom’s face as she shook her head in amazement. Seeing that, Meg knew that this was all going to be okay.