The next morning, Megan and I drove to her new school so she could meet her teacher and get a lay of the land. It was so touching when her little friend Mandy threw her arms around Megan, offering the support I had been expecting from my own best friend. I watched from the doorway as Mandy dragged Megan around the room, pointing out all her favorite things. It seemed extraordinary to me that a four-year-old seemed to know exactly what Megan needed.
Mrs. Mimi joined me at the doorway and introduced me to Megan’s teacher, Ms. Hope. She looked to be in her early twenties and had that fresh I-love-all-kids attitude about her. I was ashamed to admit there was a time that I probably would have mocked her bubbly personality to my entourage of friends, but that part of me was gone. Now, I was insanely relieved that Megan would be with someone so happy since her home life was now the exact opposite.
Mrs. Mimi loaded me up with enrollment papers for my mom to sign and gave Megan’s shoulder a pat. “We look forward to having you as a part of our school,” she said kindly.
Megan nodded, grabbing on to my hand.
“You’re not staying today, Peanut,” I said, understanding her sudden apprehension. “You’ll start tomorrow.”
She smiled at me, relieved.
“How about some lunch?” I asked, buckling her into her car seat.
She shrugged her shoulders dismissively.
“Come on, Peanut. You don’t want to have to go see Dr. Andrews, right?”
She shook her head quickly.
“Okay, so we get lunch, and then we'll go somewhere special, okay?”
She nodded.
After swinging through the McDonald’s drive-thru, I drove several miles up the road before pulling down the wooden path leading to Megan’s favorite destination. I glanced in the mirror and saw a slight glimmer of happiness blaze through her eyes before they once more clouded over.
I knew when I had picked this destination it would be painful since memories of my father swirled around it, but I needed to show Megan that though the memories were painful, we could face them head-on.
“Come on, Peanut, let’s go eat with some mountain lions,” I said, naming her all-time favorite animal at the small zoo.
Megan grabbed the bag with our lunch as I juggled our drinks while trying to fish our annual passes out of my purse. I had yet to use my pass since zoo outings were usually reserved for Saturdays, and I had always been too busy to grace my family with my presence. The cashier's eyes widened with recognition when she spotted Megan. I cringed inside, willing her silently not to say anything. This trip was painful enough without having to field the sympathy of others.
Sensing my silent plea, she simply flashed us both a smile. “Have a nice day,” she said, before handing back our passes.
“Thanks,” I said, following behind Megan as she headed toward the fenced-in outdoor area where they kept the mountain lions.
Megan and I settled on the rough wooden benches that faced the enclosure. I handed over her cheeseburger and then pulled out my own. The lions were on the far side of the enclosure, but slowly crept closer as they became curious about our presence.
“You better hurry and eat that cheeseburger. I think Charlie thinks it’s for him,” I said, pointing to the male lion she had named months ago as he paced in front of the enclosure. As if to emphasize my point, Charlie rolled out his rou
gh pink tongue and licked his chops. I couldn’t help but giggle and felt even better after looking over at Megan and saw her own eyes shining brightly with a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She munched on her cheeseburger with more enthusiasm than she had shown for food in weeks. I mentally kicked myself for not ordering an extra cheeseburger after watching her scarf it down with such gusto. Her fries went down equally fast and I handed over my own fries, happy for her sudden indulgence. Her attention remained fixated on the lions that continued to pace in front of their enclosure.
“They’re pretty cool, huh, Peanut?” I asked, breaking the silence.
She nodded her head, at least looking at me happier than I had seen her in awhile.
We spent the rest of the afternoon visiting the other animals. I could tell which ones were Megan’s favorites by the order we visited them. She skirted around the building that housed the creepy crawlies all afternoon and only faced the doors with great trepidation after we had visited every other animal the zoo housed.
“We don’t have to go in,” I told her, reaching down to rest a hand on her shoulder.
My words spurred her on, and she grasped the door handle with both hands and pulled it open swiftly. She stepped into the dimly lit room and slowly walked by each glass enclosure. Although she did not pause to give each one her own silent greeting like she had with all the other animals, she did make sure each one got a small acknowledgement.
I hadn’t attended many of the family excursions to the zoo, but had witnessed several of Megan's and my dad's debates over the differences between insects and animals. Megan felt that since bugs really weren’t considered animals, they didn’t need to be visited. My father had claimed that anything that was a living thing deserved some amount of respect and at least warranted a brief visit. Megan had grudgingly agreed and allowed him to lead her around the small enclosed room, even though it freaked her out.
I couldn’t help wondering what thoughts were running through her head as she paid tribute to each creepy crawly, or maybe the tribute was to our dad.
My slam nearly took the door off its hinges. It had been a suckass two weeks and having my aunt riding me to finish packing away the last of the crap from my old house was the last straw. I could give a rat’s ass about my dad’s stuff; besides, half that crap belonged at the dump.
I threw myself across my bed, loathing the floral bedspread more at that moment than ever before. I stuffed my ear-buds into my ears with more force than I should have, sending a sharp pain rocketing through my head that for a brief moment matched the stark emotions that swirled through me.