Part 6 (1/2)
”No, Mom, you weirdo!” Megan laughed, which was the desired effect.
”What does he look like?”
”He has blond hair and it's curly, and he has blue eyes and he's a little short but I don't care. And he's really cut.”
Jill laughed. ”Everybody's cut at thirteen.”
”No, he's cut, Mom. He's ripped. He's shredded. You can see his abs from across the pool. And he plays guitar. Real guitar, not Guitar Hero.”
”How did you meet him?”
”I've seen him at meets but I talked to him at Courtney's party. He knows her twin brother from swim camp. He friended me after the party, and now we're texting.”
Jill felt delighted. Megan needed more fun in her life. ”Sounds like a modern romance.”
”And guess what else?”
Jill smiled, looking over. ”What else?”
”We kissed!” Megan covered her face with her hands, laughing.
”Good for you. So, was it fun?” Jill knew this was big news, because Megan hadn't had a boyfriend yet. She felt happy, and sad, that Megan had her first kiss, but counted herself lucky that Megan was slower than her cla.s.smates, judging from the stories she'd heard from other swim moms.
”No!” Megan slid her hands down, flushed. ”It was scary and I was bad at it. He has braces, too. We were like Iron Man!”
”Aw, no you weren't.”
”We were.” Megan moaned. ”It's me. I'm a bad kisser.”
”You want a tip?”
”Mom.” Megan recoiled. ”It's not like the backstroke, you can't teach me.”
”Why not? Just relax your mouth. Don't pucker up.”
”Oh, this is so random.” Megan giggled. ”You have to be kidding me, right now.”
”No, I'm a pretty good kisser. I've been kissing boys for a long time. I've kissed thousands. Millions.” Jill's heart eased when Megan giggled again.
”Stop, no. This is gross.”
”No, it's not. It's okay to like a boy, and it's okay to kiss a boy, too. Just don't lose your head.”
”I won't, Mom.” Megan snorted. ”I'm not Teen Mom.”
”I know that, but still.” Jill knew that any teen could become Teen Mom.
”You're so wacky, Mom.”
”I know, I get it from you.”
Megan laughed again, then resumed texting, and Jill hit the gas, keeping her eye on the road. Traffic picked up, and she took the on ramp onto the Schuylkill Expressway with most of the traffic. She checked the padiddle, and it was still back there, behind a white pickup, too far away to tell the make. They reached the West River Drive, and she lost the padiddle in the traffic. The rain finally stopped, and they parked in a garage, where Jill cut the ignition.
”Remember, stay with me,” Megan said, looking over.
”I will, don't worry.” Jill managed a smile, shooing the black SUV out of her mind.
Chapter Nine.
Jill and Megan got to the church early, entered through the arched doors, and found themselves milling in the back among a small, well-dressed crowd, talking in low tones before they went to their seats. Jill didn't recognize anyone, which didn't surprise her, because after the divorce, their few friends had sided with her. She caught a glimpse of a teary Abby, accepting condolences from the guests, standing next to the rector, in his red-and-white vestments.
”Poor Abby,” she said to Megan.
”I know, she looks really sad,” Megan whispered back. ”I feel so bad for her.”
”Me, too.” Jill felt a deep pang, seeing how Abby looked, lost and heartbroken in an ethereal boho dress, with heavy makeup. It made her worry about Victoria, whom she couldn't see through the crowd. ”Megs, do you see Victoria?”
”Yes, you'll see her when that old lady moves. She's doing better than Abby. Look, Mom, she looks so pretty. She got highlights.”
”Really?” Jill craned her neck and spotted Victoria, standing tall in a black linen dress with pearl drop earrings. Her newly honeyed streaks were pulled back into a sophisticated twist, and her lovely face had elongated as she'd gotten older, enhancing the prominence of her cheekbones. Light, perfect makeup emphasized her hazel eyes, and she projected grace and poise, though she was only twenty-three. Jill felt a bittersweet rush of emotions, feeling love at seeing her again, happy that she'd grown up so well, but loss at all the years they could have been in touch, and pain for how she must be feeling.
”I think that's her boyfriend,” Megan whispered, and Jill noticed a tall, good-looking young man in a dark suit and wire-rimmed gla.s.ses, who stood behind her.
”Think she has a boyfriend?”
”Yes, I see him all the time, on Abby's Facebook page.”
Jill blinked, not surprised that Megan was checking Abby's Facebook page, too. ”Let's find our seats. They're going to start the service.”
”Mom, Abby just saw us, she's coming over.” Megan stiffened. ”What do I say to her? I already said I'm sorry.”
”Say what you feel.” Jill looked over to see Abby walking toward them, wiping a tear from her eye. It struck Jill that no one else was crying, or even upset, except for Abby, and that didn't surprise her, either. William had lots of acquaintances, but no real friends, which was only one of the red flags Jill had ignored. Love was not only blind, it was colorblind.
”But what should I say?” Megan asked, worried.
”You can say you're sorry again, that would be nice.”
”Like, 'I'm sorry'? Or, 'please accept my ... sorrow'? Or what?”
”'I'm sorry' will do, sweetie,” Jill answered, as Megan met Abby and gave her a hug.
”Abby, I'm so sorry, again, I really am.”
”Thanks.” Abby squeezed Megan tight, her eyes br.i.m.m.i.n.g with tears, then she let Megan go, turned to Jill, and practically fell into her arms. ”Jill, thanks for coming.”