Megan's Way (31 page)

Olivia stared into the fire, crying openly.
She looked at Peter who nodded at her.

She held her letter over the fire, looked to
the sky, and said, “Goodbye, Mom. I love you.” The letter slipped
from her fingers into the fire. Red and purple flames engulfed the
fragile paper. Olivia’s face grew so warm she had to take a step
backward.

Olivia felt something push through her body
with such force that she swayed forward then back, her neck
suddenly jerked upward, arched toward the sky. She gasped. Her arms
trembled violently at her sides, then, as if lifted by unseen
hands, they were drawn up, as if reaching for the clouds. Her body
thrust forward in one great push, the arch in her back painful, as
a wail escaped her lips.

Holly scrambled to her side, grabbing hold of
her body and fearing the unseeing look of Olivia’s eyes. Jack
grabbed Olivia’s other side, steadying her.

“What the hell?” Jack asked.

“Olivia?” Holly’s voice shook frantically,
“Are you okay?” She looked to Jack, pleading.

Peter pulled them back, away from the fire.
“Let’s get her inside.”

Olivia blinked repeatedly. Her legs were
weak, and yet her body felt cleansed, lighter, as if something had
been lifted from within. “Mom?” she looked around, dazed, and
suddenly her eyes flew wide open. She looked around, her face a
mixture of panic and excitement. She struggled against those that
held her up.

“She’s delirious,” Jack said, his voice
rising in panic. “Mom? Mom?” Olivia broke free of the shackling
arms

and ran to the fire, looking up toward the
sky. “Mom!” she yelled. “I love you! I felt you!” All at once her
body shook, and she sobbed. She began to lose her balance, her body
teetering limply.

“Oh my god!” Holly rushed to her just in time
to lower her gently to the ground. “Olivia?” She patted her
face.

“Peter, get some cold water,” Jack
ordered.

Peter rushed inside, feeling completely
inadequate and helpless. He brought a cold glass of water for
Olivia, and handed a cool, wet cloth to Jack, who patted Olivia’s
face.

“Livi? Honey?” Jack said.

Olivia’s eyes rolled around. She blinked
several times. “Mom. She’s gone,” she said confidently, yet softly.
“Mom’s gone.”

Holly cried, wiping Olivia’s sweat-beaded
hair off of her forehead, “Yes, baby, she is.”

“No. I mean, she’s really gone now, Holly. I
felt her. She went right through me.” Olivia wrapped her arms
around her belly.

Holly, Jack, and Peter exchanged glances.

“Really, Holly,” Olivia insisted. “I felt
her. I felt her!” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “It’s okay.” She
looked around for her mother’s urn, spotting it on the table on the
deck.

Olivia leapt toward the deck, as if she had
renewed energy. “We have to do this, Holly. It’s okay. I know that
now.” She grabbed the urn in her arms and held it close to her
chest.

She stood next to Holly and smiled. “C’mon.”
She tilted her head toward the fire. “Peter, Jack, c’mon.”

Bewildered, they followed her lead toward the
fire. Olivia, her face radiating the heat of the flames and her
tears glittering like moon sparkles, knelt down by the fire,
settling the urn between her knees. Peter, Jack, and Holly knelt,
shrugging and confused.

“Olivia, are you sure you’re okay? I mean…”
Holly said.

“Yes! I’m more sure of this than anything in
my whole life!” she leaned toward Holly, letting her body rest
against her for just a second or two. Then she sat upright and
asked, “How do we do this?” Her tears had dried. She wore a smile—a
real smile.

“Um, okay, well, I think we should say
something,” Holly offered.

“I am sorry, you guys. I’m sorry I was such a
knucklehead before. It’s just that Megan—” Peter’s eyes filled with
tears. He squeezed them shut and placed his thumb and index finger
over them. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Pete,” Jack said, his hand rested
on Peter’s back. “We know how you feel.”

Jack looked at Olivia and asked gently, “Liv,
I’ll do this, okay?”

She nodded, and handed the urn to Jack,
holding it with him for an extra moment, then she released it and
nodded, rolling her lips tightly into her mouth.

Jack wrapped his large hands around Megan’s
urn, removed the lid, and held it up toward the sky. He looked at
Olivia, who smiled and nodded.

Jack’s voice boomed into the night, strong
and firm, “Megan! We release you!”

Suddenly, Holly’s mind cast back to the
cobwebs of a memory—a memory of a soft, confident voice she could
hear but could not place,
One will be released, and returned
after death
. She turned toward Olivia and stared in disbelief.
Returned after death
. “Oh my god,” Holly said in a voice too
low to be heard by the others. Her legs buckled, and she barely
caught herself from complete collapse as she fell slowly to her
knees. All she could do was raise her head and her eyes to the
heavens, seeking Megan’s spirit, seeking forgiveness and
understanding.

Jack looked down at her, smiled, and nodded,
misunderstanding her intent. He pushed the urn higher toward the
sky, “Soar like the wind, Megan! Paint like there’s no end to your
canvas! We will see you again one day. We love you!” Jack tipped
the urn. Megan’s ashes floated through the cool night air, landing
in the roaring fire. Crackles of yellow sparks flew into the sky,
feet above the flames. Red, yellow, and purple flames swirled high,
reaching toward the clouds. The flames reflected off of each of the
love amulets that hung around their necks—and the Buddhist chant,
the one that could not be changed, played on.

* * *

When I think of whom I would like to thank
for their support, many people come to mind: my mother and family,
first and foremost. Mom, thank you for loving my characters and
hating my premise. Thank you for reading and correcting, crying and
laughing. Thank you most of all, Mom, for always supporting my
creative outlets and for pushing me to do my best and to keep
going.

Thank you, Les, my amazing husband, for your
undying desire for me to do the things that make me happy, and for
your unyielding excitement over each character developed, each
twist in the plotline, and each scene as it unfolded. Without your
support, I could not write a single word. You are my treasure.

I’d like to thank all of my children for
their patience and understanding, but most of all, I’d like to
thank Jess and Jake who, as my youngest, have borne the brunt of my
efforts. Thank you for allowing Mommy to spend countless hours
writing and for accepting my “Mm-hmm” responses.

Thank you for helping me come up with the
title, and for being so very excited about
Megan’s Way
coming to print. You are my biggest fans!

There are too many friends to call out, but
one I cannot miss. Thank you, Beth grimmett for reading, rereading,
and enjoying my manuscripts. Thank you for being honest with your
feedback and for pushing me to continue. To my other early readers,
Michelle Belski and Jen Lo Turco, thank you for plodding through
what was not yet a finished manuscript and for supporting my
efforts.

Dominique Agnew, my editor and friend,
without whom
Megan’s Way
never would have found a shelf, you
are a godsend to me. Thank you for fine-tuning
Megan’s Way
,
indulging my stubbornness, making me see the other side of things,
and helping me see that together, anything is possible!
Megan’s
Way
would not have flowed as smoothly without your input.

Lastly, to all my sisters from The Women’s
nest, of which there are too many to list: govtmule, Tabitha,
Clare, Cara, Davesgrl, Sweet_escape, Jacklynr, Bekah_shrinks,
gardengrl, Kerri_Draper, nel361, Riverspirit, Shadowrose, and
everyone else who has stood by me, motivated me, and cheered me on.
Thank you!

Q.
What was your inspiration for
Megan’s Way?

A. Many years ago, my mother went in for
surgery that I was told was for several benign cysts on her
ovaries. It wasn’t until a year later that she told me that there
had been an oncologist in the operating room because they had
thought she may have cancer, and that she had already determined
that had they found cancer, she was not going to undergo treatment.
This was over ten years ago, when treatments were not as advanced
as they are now. My heart sank when she told me, and I hung on to
that feeling and mulled over what it would have been like for both
of us—i could not let it go. That’s how Megan’s Way was born.

Q.
What was the underlying theme you
sought to impart to your readers?

A. There are so many. I think it is important
that we do something in life that we enjoy, and that we make
decisions based on what we feel is best in our own individual
circumstances, rather than what others think is best. In this case,
Megan thought that prolonging her death would, in the end, be more
treacherous to Olivia than her passing on sooner and more quickly,
and her decision was made. Forgiveness, belief in one’s self, the
depths of friendship, and cherishing each moment as we live
it—that’s what I was going for.

Q.
Did your own lifestyle influence the
book in any way?

A. In some ways, yes. I paint, and therefore
wanted Megan to live a very artful lifestyle, hence the art shows
and flea markets. I think instincts are overlooked far too often,
and that’s why I gave Megan a sixth sense with Olivia. If we are
open to them, I believe these lines can become strong within our
own minds. I cherish the few close friends that I have, and felt it
was important to show their feelings toward Megan’s death.

Q.
Do you believe in life after
death?

A. This will either turn off my readers or
entice them. The truth is: yes, I do believe in a certain type of
life after death. I do believe one has a certain amount of time to
reach out and touch our loved ones. Weird, I know—but that’s
me.

Q.
With six children, when do you find
time to write?

A. I had to wait until my youngest was in
school full time, and then I wrote for six hours each day, but
Megan’s Way
wasn’t my first novel. My first novel was
The
Knowing
, which has not come to print yet. Megan knocked on my
door, and I had to let her in and set down
The Knowing
for a
bit. The Knowing for a bit. I continue to write while my children
are in school and after they go to sleep at night, or while they
are doing homework or are otherwise busy.

Q.
What are you working on now?

A. I am working on my second novel,
The
Knowing
, a mystery with a paranormal twist about Tracey Potter,
a seven-year-old girl who is abducted, and one woman’s desperate
search to find her. Molly Tanner has had visions all her life, but
never have they been this horrifying, unveiling images of a young
girl being held captive. guided by her visions, she weaves her way
through the secret cavities of people’s lives, creating upheaval in
the small town when dark secrets are exposed.

Q.
May readers contact you? Are you
available to speak with book clubs?

A. Absolutely! I love to meet and chat with
readers. They can contact me through my website(s):

www.MelissaFoster.com

www.TheWomensNest.com

1. Megan struggles throughout the book with
guilt over her decision to stop her medications and treatments. Do
you think she did the right thing?

2. Megan didn’t decide to disclose who
Olivia’s father was until the night she died. Why do you think it
took her so long? Do you think she should have disclosed the
information to Olivia and/or Jack sooner, or not at all?

3. Holly implies that she knew Megan’s baby
was Jack’s. Why do you think she never approached the topic with
Megan? For that matter, why did she avoid discussing the
possibility with Jack?

4. Olivia progressed from self-inflicted pain
to meeting someone she chatted with on a prohibited website,
putting her own life in danger. Do you think this is typical
teenage behavior? Should Megan have seen that coming?

5. Do you believe in life after death?

6. It appears that Jack knew Holly was right
for him when they began dating, do you think it ever occurred to
him that he may have fathered Megan’s baby, or was he simply in
denial?

7. Peter is greatly affected by Megan’s
death. Why do you think his relationship with Megan, rather than
his relationship with Holly, brought his inability to commit to a
relationship to a changing point?

8. What themes do you see throughout the
book?