And soon enough the sobs slowly but surely died over the running water. She exhaled, brought herself to a standing position and let the water run over her face one last time before her hand fell over the knob. The water that had blocked out her sobbing was left by the few drops that fell down from the shower head into the tub and went down the drain.
Scrunching her dripping hair she stepped out onto a towel that had been placed as a mat, and wrapped another towel around her body while grabbing a fresh towel to run through her hair. Immediately she felt exhausted as she sat down against the edge of the tub.
The muscles in her jaw were tense, cheeks puffy, as she had exceeded her limit just letting it all out. Exhaling she stood up and edged the door open before walking out and getting out the essential makeup from the bag sitting in the corner between the mirror and the counter.
Grabbing the mascara, she runs her hands through her hair in partial nervousness gaining sight to her sullen reflection in the mirror. Her fingers unscrew the cap and she exhales bringing her other arm back to her side before steadying herself and applying the mascara to her lashes.
Then taking the towel that she had been using to dry her hair, she ran over it with one more swipe before she capped the mascara and began drying her hair which began to significantly dry and curl around the ends.
Capping the bottle back up, she closed the fridge and went back over to the counter, both of her hands curling around the edge of the gray speckled counter top. Her knuckles turned white at the involuntary pressure of her fingers pressing against the cool wood. Her stomach twisted as she gave second thought, moving her purse aside as she took a pen and a journal she had gotten several years ago out-but had never been used-and began writing.
At first it felt slightly odd, writing her thoughts out. It wasn't something that she would usually do, and she had brought the journal along to express some of her thoughts of meeting her father again after ten years-just for the record she never did this, and writing now about the thoughts she was drowning in, felt even more important then writing about her father.
The journal had been given to her by her friend, after they had attended a group meeting. It was a blue leathered book that her friend had jokingly handed her after they had walked out of the building. The hour long meeting that they had sat next to eachother, both of them knew by the expression on the other face that they were never going back.
And they never did. But it hadn't been for the reason they expected. Instead Megan got a wake up call that changed her whole life when she walked into friend's apartment the following morning, having a key and all with a bad feeling in her gut, which only took one push of the door to see the one fatal shot to the back of her friend's head and made Megan feel like sinking to the ground.
After that time Megan had transferred from Ohio to Oklahoma then to LA in hopes of starting anew, hardly looking back. Since then she had no need to recall what she knew were not fond memories, until a few days after Colby's betrayal. Her mind swirled over if she was still capable of doing her job, the same feelings that had come over her after her friend's murder.
Here in Los Angeles she had discovered a part of herself, used the vegenance of her friend's murder to protect others, found the love of her life that she knew kept her from walking right out that door and instead found herself in his arms. Found friends she knew she would never get back if she walked away. Those being the importance of her continuing and pushing back those hidden emotions in stride that were now in fledge force testing her limits.
Exhaling, she finished writing and closed the journal with a thud. Standing up she pushed it deep back into her purse and continued to get ready, thoughts swarming as she applied the rest of her makeup and put on a suitable t-shirt and pants on.
Several minutes later she found herself standing in the middle of the driveway of her old house, taking in the sight as she walked up to the porch and slowly let her finger linger on the door bell. Finally pressing, it rang with one steady beat. Moments later the reflection of her father came into sight, the strong smell of lasagna wafting into her senses as he invited her into the house.
"Hope you came tonight with an appetite." He said in greeting, searching his daughter more clearly in the light and found himself wondering whether to put more concern into the sadness behind her smile, or how tired she had become. Which was even more obvious as the space between them had cleared some, even though he knew they were bound to step over the boundaries tonight. "Come and sit." He led her into the kitchen and she pulled out a chair to sit down in.
The table she noticed had been set with beatiful blue plates, a crystal wine glass. Immediately at that her gaze went from the table to her father. "You toss at that salad a little harder and it's all going to go flying." Megan broke at the silence, perspectively. Standing from the table, her heels clicked on the wood floor, his gaze hardly stirring. "Go and sit down."
It took a moment, but her reassuring gaze had him reluctantly giving into walking across the room and taking his place at the table. A part of him happy to let her take over, and he took comfort in knowing that it was a miracle that she was standing before him. As she tossed at the salad a few more times, he noticed she looked so comfortable in the kitchen.
"I didn't know you cooked."
Megan glanced over at him putting down the wooden spoons down in the bowl, the timer going off as she placed her hand on the hot pad. "I think it's required pretty much when you leave home, and I do it whenever my job doesn't require me to be there."
Checking the lasagna to see if it was all the way cooked through, she found that it wasn't and put it back into the oven. "So you must be on your feet a lot." The oven door closed with a bang as she set the hot pads back onto the island in the center of the kitchen area.
Megan's expression faltered just enough for him to see he had hit that hard landing as she leaned against the island."It definitely has its perks." Her words trailed and she found her gaze falling to the fridge that was decorated in huge amounts of kid friendly pictures and scribbles. Rounding her way around the island, gently releasing one of the many colored pictures with her hand."
He couldn't miss the expression on his daughter's face as she held it up to him. "That was Rose's picture that she drew when she was two. She's three now."
She took another long look at her niece's picture before speaking again. "It's beautiful." There was another between them as the buzzer went off again. She turned to get the lasagna out of the oven as he got up from his seat and went to the living room to fetch a photo album.
He knew she had a right to see her nieces, nephews, and sisters, even if she wasn't ready to see them physically. She deserved in her own right to see who they had become, just like one day they would get to see who she was as a potential mother, sister, and aunt.
Setting the lasagna on the hot pads in the middle of the table, he returned to the room holding a red photo album. They both sat down as he inquired. "Here is a photo album of your nieces, nephews, and your sisters."Megan straightened at the mentioning of a photo album and he gladly handed it over. Absently she picked up her fork and stuck into her lasagna as she opened the cover page and quietly began looking through the first page of photos. "That's Rose." He mentioned as the quirk of her eyebrow and the protective smile on her expression as she looked through each page.
And with each page there was a photograph that she had never seen, and with each photograph there was a story, and the night fell later without a hitch. They went through dinner, cleaned up, and finished the last pages of the album.
Pretty soon after that it was time to go. "Take care of yourself, Megan." Her father offered before reluctantly letting her go and watched her drive back into the night.
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