Chapter 4
Almost an hour later, I pull into the long drive that leads up to Megan’s lake house.
The house is all lit up with whimsical string lights and an eclectic mix of hanging lanterns.
They give a welcoming glow to the white siding.
My tires crunch on the gravel as I pull to a stop on the circular drive.
The sun has long since set, and the clouds, that have been threatening to unleash, have gotten darker.
Big drops of rain hit loudly on my windshield-a-tell-tale sign that, in moments, it will let loose.
I quickly turn the car off and race to get the bags from the trunk.
Beretta bolts from the car, beelining it to the porch.
She doesn’t even stop to take the stairs; she just leaps over them.
I sling my bags over my shoulders as large drops of rain fall on my face.
For a split second, I’m tempted to tip my head back and let it wash over me, but Beretta’s loud bark gets me moving.
Just as my feet hit the stained cedar planks of the wrap around porch, the sky opens up, and it starts to pour.
Well that was good timing.
I open the front door, setting my bags on the ground. I will deal with them later. “Honey! I’m home!”
Her laughter fills the air before she answers me. “I’m in the kitchen!”
Walking through the house, the tension in my body slowly recedes. I’m here with my friend, and all the bad stuff can be put on hold.
Upon entering the kitchen, I take in the sight ofMegan opening a bottle of wine.
Seeing that instantly brings a smile to my face.
Megan is a tiny woman—about 5’2” unless it’s a really humid day, and then her height increases an inch or two due to her curly black hair.
She makes up for her height with her larger-than-life personality, and it takes a lot to get her down.
I always tease her that she is the sun to my storm cloud; she makes my life brighter.
“I saw your headlights so I thought I would get the wine ready,” Megan says as she pours me a glass.
“You’re the best. I so need this, and possibly the rest of the bottle.”
Megan gives me an assessing look. “Don’t worry; I have two other bottles in the chiller just in case.”
Hearing that makes me laugh. “I love how you are always prepared. Do you have snacks too? Cause I’m kinda starving. I haven’t eaten anything since lunch.”
“I did one even better. I ordered Italian; it should be here in a few minutes.”
“Oh my god, you are amazing. Is it from that one restaurant by the pier?”
“Yep, I figured that you could use some good comfort food after listening to the messages you left me.” A slight look of concern settles on her face.
“You have no idea. We have so much to talk about. I will grab the bottle if you grab the glasses, because your sofa is calling my name. I’m so exhausted, and I’m sure you are too.”
We are on our way out of the kitchen when the doorbell rings.
“That would be the food. Let me go get that, and I will meet you in the living room.”
Megan runs down the hall as I juggle the bottle and glasses, going straight to the living room.
I set everything down on the coffee table and stretch out on the sofa, groaning in relief at finally being done for the day. There’s just something so relaxing about sitting in a room with floor to ceiling windows, big comfy furniture, a wood burning fireplace, and my best friend down the hall.
Megan’s lake house was a labor of love. Everything she could do herself she did; for the rest she hired a local contractor.
The end result is night and day compared to what it had been.
Fixing up the lake house had gotten Megan hooked on renovating old properties, and she has been doing it ever since.
It also gives her something to do that keeps her mind off of her marriage.
I’m so glad Megan decided to buy this property, even though it was such a dump at first. With a year of renovation, this property became one of the nicest places on the lake, and Megan is so proud of it.
Though, there’s a really big cabin across the lake that I drool over every time I see it, but it hasn’t been for sale.
Megan had been married for four years, but it wasn’t a good marriage by any means.
They had known each other all of their lives and it had been a match her family had encouraged.
I hated the bastard, but he made Megan happy, or at least at first. But for the past year and a half Megan had become nothing more than a nursemaid, rather than a wife.
Not that she had much of a marriage before her husband found out he had a terminal illness.
Megan thought she had the perfect husband, until he started showing her his true nature.
It started off with him putting his fists through walls and breaking furniture when he was angry.
It eventually escalated, and he turned his anger towards Megan.
Several times I had driven up to their house outside of Boston, fully prepared to commit murder.
Megan had always convinced me not to, but I wasn’t going to let my friend be beaten and abused.
Thankfully, it hadn’t taken long for Megan to file for divorce and move out.
She was almost free of him for good, too.
Until one day, she got a call from his assistant that he had blacked out at work and was taken to the hospital.
No one ever understood why she went to the hospital that day; I certainly don’t, but Megan’s never a person to leave someone by themselves in a time of need.
After seeing specialist after specialist, it was determined that there wasn’t much hope for him.
He had a brain tumor that was inoperable.
A few days later Megan dropped the divorce proceedings and moved back in with him.
It didn’t matter who tried to convince her otherwise, Megan wasn’t changing her mind.
Her husband didn’t have any living family or close friends, and she wasn’t about to leave him to suffer by himself.
She is entirely too good for him, but I can’t fault her for being the better person.
That is just who Megan is; it’s why I love her.
I can see that taking care of her husband is taking a toll on Megan. Every time I’ve seen her over the last few months I get more concerned, but I know it will be coming to an end soon. Maybe with his death, Megan will finally be able to begin her own healing.
So I do what any good friend can; I stand by her and am there for her whenever I can be. Just like Megan had been for me all through college, when I had no one else.
The fire dances and crackles in the fireplace while I take a much needed sip of wine when Megan comes in carrying the food. She is followed by Travis, her short, squatty bulldog, and Beretta.
“Oh, that smells so good.”
I reach for the food, but my leg gets jostled as Beretta plops her slobbery jowls onto my thigh. A pitiful whine is followed by more drool seeping into my pants, and I realize that I haven’t fed her yet.
Better do that before she thinks she can partake in our food.
“I’m going to feed Beretta real quick. My poor baby, how could I forget? Does Travis need to eat too?”
”No, he ate an hour ago. Won’t stop him from begging like a street urchin though.”
I snort at her comment and, before my body decides that getting up isn’t an option, I go make Beretta’s food.
As I mix up dinner for her, the loud ringtone of Megan’s phone blares through the house and she quickly gets up to answer it.
I can’t make out what she is saying, but from the tone of her voice I can tell she isn’t happy.
Setting Beretta’s food dish down, I go back into the living room.
The tantalizing scents of garlic, butter, and the variety of Italian spices fill the air and my mouth waters.
I ponder if I should wait for Megan to get off the phone, but my stomach growls loudly and I know she would scold me for waiting anyway.
I grab a take out container and don’t waste any time digging in.
I’m a few bites into my pasta dish, trying to hold back the moans as I fill my mouth when Megan’s voice rises in anger.
“Why do I even pay you?! You know exactly where all the medications are. You better believe I will be talking to your superiors come Monday morning!”
Hearing that, I put down my fork and walk to where Megan is in the next room. She’s sitting down with her head in her hands, and I kneel down in front of her.
“Megan, are you ok?”
I know she isn’t, but when she looks up at me there aren’t tears in her eyes, but a look of weariness.
“I knew this was going to be hard…but I don’t know how much more of this I can take, and that makes me feel like such a bad person.”
I wrap my arms around her and say the only thing I can. “Megan, I don’t know of anyone else that would even consider what you are doing for Todd.”
“I know, and I know it will be over soon, but they keep sending nurses that are so incompetent. This is the fourth one in three months.”
“What happened to that one that you liked?”
“She is on maternity leave, but she will be back on Monday, thank God. I honestly didn’t realize how much I counted on her ‘til she wasn’t around.”
I stand and pull her up with me, steering her out the door.
“Come on, let’s go eat before it gets cold—and if I remember correctly you said there were two more bottles of wine we needed to get through. We are falling behind.”
Megan cracks a smile.
“You’re right; don’t want to let good wine go to waste.”
Two and a half bottles of wine later, Megan and I are sprawled out on the sofa and giggling uncontrollably.
“I cannot believe how bad your luck is with men,” Megan says in between giggles.
“I know…you so don’t need to remind me,” I giggle. I’m seriously buzzed.