From the hat down, p.9
From the Hat Down, page 9
She captioned it “a month ago” and attached it to her message. She sent the email then swiveled in her office chair and reached across her desk to the printer and retrieved the image she’d printed out. Meg stared for a long time at Gina’s features, trying to figure out what she might have been thinking when the photo was taken. She looked relaxed and happy, and her eyes carried the deep warmth that even now made Meg forget to breathe.
Just like a decade ago.
Just like five years ago.
She stood and opened the door to the small closet behind her desk, where she kept a shoebox on the shelf, pushed against the left-hand wall. She took it down and sliced through the packaging tape that held the lid closed with a pair of scissors from the mug on her desk that she used as a pencil holder.
She set the scissors back on the desk and carried the box along with the photo she’d just printed out into the living room, where she sat on the couch. She opened the box and slowly began sifting through the bits and pieces of her past with Gina. Cards, letters, the story Gina wrote about her first week at the ranch, in which she documented her growing feelings for Meg. A few photos of Meg and Gina together. Gina with Stan and Alice. A couple shots of Gina on a horse, sitting like she was born to it.
Meg smiled, thinking about the first time she watched Gina saddle and bridle a horse, and it was clear that she’d done it before. Gina had teased her from the saddle, told her that her grandfather owned a farm outside Sacramento. Meg remembered how her breath caught in her throat as she watched Gina’s face, shaded beneath the brim of her hat, and she teased Meg about the type of woman she might be. She ran her fingers along the edges of the photo.
Ten years’ worth, give or take. She had saved all of the birthday cards Gina sent and most of the emails she’d gotten she printed out and saved, too. Why? The answer stared back at her from the print-out she held, from a pair of dark eyes that both invited and challenged. An ache started in the pit of Meg’s stomach and worked its way into her throat. She almost wanted to cry, so she swallowed, trying to dispel the lump in her throat. She placed the printed-out photo on her desk as her cell phone rang with a particular ring from the kitchen table. She went to answer it, still carrying the shoebox. She set it on the counter as she picked up her phone.
“Hey, Sean.”
“Hey, Doctor Horse Chick. How was the DR? How’s that awesome rancher guy you call your dad?”
“He’s good. The ranch was fun. Next weekend, maybe not so much.” She exhaled softly.
Sean giggled. “It’s a gajillion acres. Tell your mom you have to find cows up in the woods or something. Better yet, tell her to go do it.”
“Tempting.”
“I was just calling to check on you. How goes it?”
She hesitated. She went to the fridge and took one of the Shiner Bocks out that Sean had brought last week.
“Meg? What’s going on?” Concern rippled through Sean’s voice.
“Hold on. I’m opening a beer.”
“Uh-oh. I thought you said it went well.”
She flipped the bottlecap onto the counter. “The DR was fine.”
“What, then? Kate?”
“Yes and no.” She took a sip of beer, trying to settle her roiling thoughts. “I got Gina’s card on Friday, after I got back from your place.”
Sean didn’t say anything for a long moment. “And?” she asked cautiously.
“Not sure. I sent her an email from the ranch. And then when I got back tonight, there was an email from her. It. . .that and the card. . .fuck.” Her throat tightened.
“Brought some stuff up,” Sean finished gently.
“Yeah. Something like that.” She stared out the window above the kitchen sink, surprised to feel tears. “And I don’t know if it’s about Kate or Gina. Or both. I think it’s mostly about Kate.”
“Or not.” Sean said softly. “Gina meant the world to you. You remember when you last saw her? Five years ago. I watched you with her. Meg, it was so obvious.”
“What?” Meg clutched the bottle like she was trying to strangle it.
“You were still in love with her. Is it so weird to think you might still be in love her now?”
“That’s nuts,” she managed.
Sean was quiet for a bit. “For what it’s worth, I watched how she acted with you, too. I didn’t know her like you did, granted, but she still had feelings for you then.”
“Why are you telling me this?” A hot spike of grief lanced through her chest. “It fucking hurts. Christ, why does it hurt?” A single tear trickled down her cheek.
“Oh, sweetie. I’m sorry. I’m coming up.”
“No. I’m okay. I’m just. . .shit, I don’t know.”
“I’ll be there in an hour. I’m hanging up now, okay?”
Meg nodded, the tears flowing faster now. It occurred to her that Sean couldn’t see her nod. “Okay. Bye.” She hung up and let the tears come faster, let them run like rain, like the downpour she and Gina got caught in two days before Gina had to leave the ranch on one of her visits to go back to L.A., and Gina had laughed and thrown her face to the sky, arms wrapped around Meg, holding her fiercely, kissing her like eight years would never pass without her.
She didn’t realize how long she stood there at the sink, letting the years stain her face and memories crush her chest until she heard Moonshine announce Sean’s presence with one short bark as she entered. The toenails on his weak hind leg dragged on the wooden floor in the living room as he investigated the intruder.
“Hey, Moonie,” Sean said and he whined in recognition. “Meg?”
“Yeah.” Meg used her shirt to wipe her face. She turned when Sean entered the kitchen but at the look of compassion on her face, a fresh round of tears trickled down her cheeks.
“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry,” Sean said as she pulled Meg against her and held her while she sobbed.
“Fuck,” Meg finally muttered. “What the fuck’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing. You’re opening to possibility.”
“Well, if this is what it’s about, it sucks.” She pulled away and wiped her face again with her shirt.
Sean took her hand and led her into the living room. “Did you eat before you left the ranch?”
Meg shook her head as she flopped onto the couch. Moonshine took a watchful position next to her feet, looking up at her with canine worry. Meg reached down and stroked his head, whispering doggie platitudes.
“Do you still have some of the leftovers from Friday?”
Meg nodded. “In the fridge.”
“I’m going to heat that up.” She set to work doing just that and a few minutes later, she emerged from the kitchen with a plateful of food.
“I’m not really hungry,” Meg grumbled.
Sean arched an eyebrow and handed her the plate without saying anything.
Meg sighed and set it on her lap. Under Sean’s watchful gaze she took a bite. Then another. Ten minutes later, she handed her empty plate back to Sean, managing a sheepish smile.
“Mmm hmm. Do you want a fresh beer?”
She had barely touched the beer she opened two hours ago. “No. Iced tea, please.”
Sean smiled and took the plate into the kitchen. She returned with two glasses of tea and handed one to her. Moonshine was sound asleep again, head on Meg’s foot.
Sean sat down to her left. She placed the shoebox Meg had left in the kitchen on the coffee table. “Doing a little excavation, were we?” She asked quietly.
“I guess. Something in her letter in the birthday card. . .I don’t know. It didn’t feel right. Like she was worried something might happen to her. She said she was tired and she was thinking about applying for a job in the States. She said she wanted to see me and that she hadn’t told anyone else about the job. Except probably Sharon, of course.”
Sean squeezed her arm, comforting.
“Why would she say that to me?”
Sean shrugged and took a drink from her glass.
“She said she had been thinking about me a lot and that she was feeling rootless but thinking about me made her feel grounded. And then she mentioned the day she came to the DR to do that story ten years ago. She said she was so glad to get there, knowing she’d get to spend time with me.” Meg rubbed her temples. She had a headache from crying. “We never really talked about stuff like that after we broke up. We just let the past lie. Why would she bring it up again?”
“Because she’s thinking about it?”
Meg looked at her, waiting for more.
“It’s a rhetorical question.” Sean took her hand. “Obviously, she is. I don’t know why. She just is. Maybe she wants to reconnect.”
“Why? Why would she do that?”
“Because she misses you?”
“Fuck that,” Meg groused. “All of a sudden she wants to be all buddy-buddy with me?”
Sean stared at her. “Hon, would you listen to yourself? Are you really angry at Gina? Or are you angry about something else? Like a decision you made eight years ago?”
She clenched her teeth together. “It was a mutual decision.”
“So why are you still dragging it around like a cross? You and Gina made a decision based on the circumstances at the time, based on the information you had at the time. It wasn’t an easy choice. Don’t think she didn’t suffer for it, either. But you made it and you both accomplished amazing things and you both have good lives and you’re healthy and relatively stable. Why are you freaking out about something that happened eight years ago? What is this really about?”
She chewed her lip. “I don’t know. Am I just grieving Kate?”
“You already did that. I think you’re grieving Gina. And you’re in a position in your life where you’re maybe allowing yourself to finally do that.”
“I loved her so much,” Meg said, and it surprised her to hear that admission coming from her own mouth.
“Why can’t you still love her? Maybe you need to admit that you still do and deal with that.”
She grimaced. “I’m not the same person I was eight years ago. And neither is she. I don’t really know her anymore. I’m getting all riled up over a damn memory.”
Sean nodded slowly. “That’s certainly something to take into consideration.”
“She said she’s coming back to the States the second week in August. She’ll be here for a month and she wants to see me.” She carefully extricated her foot from under Moonshine’s chin. He grunted softly but settled his head on the floor. She stepped over Sean and went to the office where she retrieved the picture she’d printed out of Gina. She returned to the living room and handed the image to Sean.
“Wow. Is this recent?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“She looks great. Almost as good as you do.”
Meg made a noise in the back of her throat as Sean looked slyly up at her. She handed the picture back.
“I went back through the cards and emails I’ve gotten from her over the past few years and none of them were like what I just got from her. I don’t understand why all of a sudden she’s saying these things to me.”
Sean looked thoughtful. “Why does it matter?”
She ran a hand through her hair and sat down again.
“I mean, really. Why does it matter?”
“I don’t know what she wants from me,” Meg concluded.
“And you’re worried that what she might want and what you might want are two different things.” Sean wiped the bottom of her glass on her jeans and set it on a coaster on the coffee table.
Meg said nothing, because Sean was right.
“What do you want from her?”
“It doesn’t matter. She’s involved.”
Sean arched her eyebrow again, and her expression said as clear as if she had verbalized it, “That’s not what I asked.”
Meg stared, unseeing, at the floor.
Sean put her hand on Meg’s thigh. “What do you want?”
“Shit. I don’t know.” She rubbed her temples. “I haven’t seen her in five years and it’s not like we talk all the time or anything.” She sighed, frustrated. “Maybe the stuff with Kate triggered all this old stuff and I’m just wrestling with the past.”
Sean squeezed her thigh. “Could be Gina felt like she wanted to say these things to you for a while and she finally did.”
Meg sighed again. “And maybe she figured that since I was with Kate, I wouldn’t read anything into it beyond her wanting to be friends. Maybe I’m reading shit into it that isn’t there. If I hadn’t just been through a breakup, I probably wouldn’t think anything of it.” She tasted disappointment in her throat.
“You definitely need to sort through some things.” Sean smiled. “And you also need to get some sleep. So get me some damn sweats, wench, and one of your tees.”
Meg looked at her, surprised and hopeful. “You’re staying?”
“Duh. Hon, you need a friend right now. And I’m so proud of you for admitting it. I don’t have to be in until ten tomorrow. So hook me up with some sleepwear.”
Meg smiled back and went to her bedroom to rustle up the requested items. She heard Sean’s voice and from the tone, she could tell she was talking to Ted. On her way back to the living room, she stopped in the bathroom for a couple of Tylenol. She took them to the kitchen and swallowed them with a glass of water then returned to the living room with a baggy pair of gray sweats and an oversized white T-shirt that advertised Cheyenne’s Frontier Days.
“Hold on. She’s right here.” Sean handed her cell phone over. “Ted wants to talk to you.”
Meg traded the clothing for the phone. “Hey. I’m stealing your wife. Hope that’s okay.”
He laughed. “No problem. Can I have her back tomorrow?”
“Maybe. I kind of like her. She fixed me dinner.”
“She’s good that way,” Ted said in his pleasant baritone. “More importantly, how are you?”
“A couple of cars derailed. It’s fixable.”
He made a noise that meant he was agreeing with her. “Don’t you just hate it when your past shows up unannounced like that? And you have nothing to wear and no beer in the fridge? And you’re not sure that what you’re having for dinner is what your past still eats so you try to discreetly figure out how much it’s changed over the years. But instead, you discover that you’ve changed, and suddenly you’re not so sure you like what you’re having for dinner, either.” He made a “tsk tsk” sound and she could visualize him shaking his head, stroking his goatee. “Damn,” he continued. “I hate it when that happens.”
“Yeah. I hate that, too,” she said, grinning. “I see why you were able to make an honest woman out of Sean.”
“Please,” Sean scoffed from the hallway. “He’s pussy-whipped,” she yelled so Ted could hear.
“And that’s a bad thing because. . .?” Meg asked, eyebrows lifting. “In this house, there’s nothing wrong with a little pussy-whippin’.”
Ted was laughing in her ear and Sean grabbed the phone. “As you can see, I was too late. She’s a total head case.” She listened for a bit then held the phone to her chest and addressed her. “He says to get some sleep and to let you know that you’re the bomb and no matter who it is, some hot woman is going to hunt you down and you won’t even remember what the hell your problem was tonight.”
Meg shook her head in a “he’s-crazy-but-cool” motion. “Thanks, Ted,” she said when Sean held the phone up to her. “And on that note, I’ll leave you two alone.” She grinned and headed down the hall to her bedroom. She heard Sean laughing and she smiled as she opened her closet and took the dog bed out that she kept for her canine visitors. She placed it against the far wall, and none too soon because Moonshine appeared in her doorway. He ambled over to the thick cushion and eased onto it, releasing what could have been a grateful sigh.
“Shit, buddy,” Meg said as she stroked him. “We’ll see if we can’t figure out what’s going on with you tomorrow.”
He managed to roll over onto his back and Meg rubbed his chest for a while, remembering him as a pup. She heard Sean in the doorway and she looked up.
“I found your stash of guest toothbrushes. Hope you don’t mind.”
Meg rolled her eyes. “Please. You’re not a guest. You’re family.”
“So does that mean I don’t have to sleep on the couch?”
“No. My family always has to sleep as far away from me as possible—hey!” she yelped as a pillow bounced off her head.
Moonshine opened one eye and looked up at her as she reached for the pillow and tossed it back onto the bed.
“Whatever,” Sean announced as she pulled the covers back on Meg’s bed and climbed in. “What time do you have to get up tomorrow?”
“Ass crack of dawn, girlfriend. Roy and I alternate early mornings. I have to be there at seven-thirty.”
“God love you,” Sean stifled a yawn. “Get your butt in bed, Meg.”
“Hmm. I kinda like bossy women,” Meg said as she turned the light off and got into bed. “But in your case, I’ll make an exception.”
Sean kicked her leg lightly. “Oh, and no snoring,” she announced in the dark. “Or farting. This is a man-free zone tonight.”
She laughed. “Let she who is without sin. . .”
“That would, in fact, be me,” Sean retorted sleepily.
Meg relaxed against her pillow. “Sean?”
“Hmm?”
“Thanks.”
She didn’t answer right away and Meg thought she might have fallen asleep until she felt Sean’s fingers on her arm, comforting. “You’re welcome. Good night.”
“’Night.”
Sean rolled over and within seconds she was asleep. Meg listened to her breathe for a while, finding that it calmed her even more. She stared into the dark and decided that she was just working through some grief and parts of her past. By the time she actually saw Gina in August, things would be settled. As she drifted off to sleep, she almost believed that.
