TMI (2014 Collector's Dream Winner)

TMI - Chapter 39

Meg spent the rest of her unscheduled day off sketching ideas for her portfolio. Google led her to various home test examples that taught her how to devise themes in her work. She snorted; there was only one theme and its name was Chase, but at least she managed to find some alternatives worthy of further exploration.

At three o’clock, she put aside her stylus and sketchpad and headed to work. She did not text Chase again. If he chose to believe Bailey over her, than her mother was right — better she discover who he really is now. She opened the front door and cursed.

Chase was sitting on her porch steps.

“Damn it, Chase. You scared me.”

He looked up at her and then back toward the street. “Yeah, we’re gonna talk about all the things that scare you, but not now.”

She wanted to run back upstairs and hide under her covers like the little lost girl she used to be but forced herself to meet him on the steps. “What’s wrong?”

He turned toward her again, his eyes flashing with barely restrained fury. “I’m outta here, Megan.”

He was leaving her. No! Her heart fell out of her chest with a splat! to the ground at his feet.

“I can’t stay here. I gotta get out now while I can, and I want you to come with me.”

She heard his words but couldn’t quite connect them. “You’re leaving.”

“Yes!” He lurched to his feet and paced. “My parents are— they’re— Jesus, they’re forty-year-old teenagers and I’ve had enough. I need to leave before they buy me a goddamn mini-van with vanity plates!” He shoved his hands through his hair and stopped pacing to stare at her. “Well? Are you gonna say something?”

This didn’t make sense. It… it didn’t compute. Bailey outed her like some psycho but he’s yelling about mini-vans? “You’re not leaving because of me?”

His face lost its color and he moved to her side so fast, he practically blurred. “No. No, Megan. I’m not leaving you. I don’t care what Bailey said, I am not leaving you. Please, please come with me.” He took her hand. “I want to talk to a recruiter, find out what my options are.”

His touch calmed Meg, resuscitated the rational part of her brain. “Chase, tell me what’s wrong. I don’t understand this mini-van and recruiter talk.” She waved her hands.

He buried his face in his hands and groaned. “Mom’s pregnant, Megan. Another Gallagher’s on his way — number six. I think my parents are shooting for their own TV show.”

Meg laughed once. “I think it’s kind of cool. I always wanted siblings and you’ll have five of them.”

“Pick some! I’d gladly give you Connor or the twins. I’m keeping Dylan. He’s finally cool, now that he’s older.” He lifted his head and shook it slowly. “I was so close, Megan. Now they say I can’t leave. I have to turn down the scholarship so I can help.” Suddenly, he was on his feet again. “It’s not even my fucking kid and I get stuck raising it!”

“Scholarship? What scholarship?”

He slapped a hand to his head. “I forgot to tell you yesterday. I heard from Manhattan College. Full scholarship, Megan. All I have to cover is living expenses. The guys already got a lead on a decent apartment. My share of the rent would be cheaper than the room and board in the dorms.” He shook his head. “And now they’re saying they need me home. They want me to turn it down. They even said they wouldn’t let me go, so I’m going to enlist in the Army.”

No scholarship and the Army? No way. She’d finally caved in to his magic eyes. He couldn’t leave, not now.

“Okay, I get why you’re so upset. But you need to calm down and think about this. You only have a few months until graduation. You can’t leave now. You need them.”

He stopped pacing to stare at her. “I don’t know, Megan. Damn it. I don’t know anything anymore.” He blew out a loud breath. “Except that I need you. You help me focus.” He took a few steps toward her, tugged her to her feet and wrapped her in a hug.

His words made her go weak and warm all over so she squeezed him back.

“Come on. I’ll give you a ride.” He led her to the old station wagon parked on the curb. “I’ll tell you one thing… I am NEVER having kids, swear to God. I’ve already changed more diapers than most guys will in a lifetime.”

Meg went still.

She was five — maybe six years old — when her father didn’t come home one night. She was in bed but not asleep. She could never sleep when her mom cried. It was very late and only the sound of her mom’s sniffles broke the silence when she heard his key click in the lock. Her mother ran down the stairs. “Where were you?” She’d shouted. “Away from here.” He’d shouted back. They screamed and yelled and broke stuff and Meg pulled the covers over her head but still heard every word. “I NEVER wanted kids in the first place!”

She’d cried then. It was her fault. She’d always known that, of course. Always known that they fought because of her, but her mother always dried her tears and rocked her long after her father was asleep.

“Megan, you ready?”

She jerked, blinking into gleaming green eyes and suddenly, she saw a little girl with dark hair and the same gleaming green eyes hiding under her covers while Chase shouted, “I am NEVER having kids, swear to God!”

She turned away. “I think I’ll walk.”

He ran around the car, took her by the shoulders. “No! Goddamn it, Megan, don’t do this, not now!”

She slapped his hands away, forgot about her stitches. “Stop. I can’t do this, Chase. I can’t.” Her voice was level, her tone even. She watched the light go out of those watercolor eyes of his. 

And then she turned and walked alone to the bakery. Alone, she thought. The way it would always be.