Megan Meade's Guide to the McGowan Boys (3 page)

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Settling in

Hey Mom and Dad!

Just wanted to let you know everything is fine here. We had barbecue for dinner and I ate a salad with it, I promise. The boys are getting used to me and Regina and John are really nice. Can't wait to see the new school tomorrow. I miss you guys already. Hope you had a good flight! E-mail and call me as soon as you can.

Love,

Megan

Megan sat back in the window seat of her new bedroom with her laptop propped up in front of her knees. There was one thing Megan could say for her new digs—they were definitely pink. The walls were pink, the bedspread was pink, the flower-shaped throw rug on the wood floor was pink. Regina had even decorated the white dresser with large pink flower decals.

It was the exact opposite of every room Megan had ever lived in.

There was a quick knock on the door and Regina stuck her head in. Megan sat up a little straighter.

“I brought you some towels for the morning,” Regina said with a smile, placing pink towels on the end of the bed. She looked around the room and paused when she saw the still-packed suitcases. “Settling in okay?”

“Yes, ma'am. Thank you,” Megan said automatically. She would get around to unpacking eventually, but that would make things seem so final. She needed to get used to the fact that this was actually her space first. She needed to get used to the pink.

“You don't have to call me ma'am,” Regina said, crossing her arms over her chest and shrugging. “Makes me feel old.”

“Oh. Okay, ma—” Megan bit her tongue. This was definitely going to take getting used to.

“So, I was thinking we could go shopping tomorrow night,” Regina suggested. “I'm sure there are some things you still need to get for school. New clothes . . . makeup . . . maybe a new purse?”

Wow. This woman is hurting for female companionship,
Megan thought.

“Uh . . . okay. Sure,” she said, even though she had everything she needed. Megan didn't exactly enjoy shopping—a quality that had always puzzled queen-of-the-bargain-hunt Tracy—but she knew she could make the sacrifice when her answer was rewarded with an even huger smile from Regina.

“Great! I know just where to take you. There's a whole new wing on the mall that I've been dying to check out,” Regina said. “We'll eat at the food court and have a real girls' night.”

“Sounds great,” Megan said.
New wing on the mall? Food court?

“Okay, well, good night,” Regina said. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Regina?” Megan said, stopping her as she backed out of the room. “Is it always this . . . quiet around here?”

Regina's brows furrowed. “Basically never. I think we have you to thank for our current peace and quiet. My boys aren't quite sure how to behave with an actual girl around.”

Just what I didn't want to hear,
Megan thought, a lump forming in her throat. After a quiet dinner during which John and Regina had made all the conversation, the boys had retreated to the basement and their Xbox and Megan hadn't heard from any of them since. It felt distinctly like a freeze-out. While she didn't mind avoiding their scrutiny, she didn't want the boys to hate her, either.

“I hope I'm not making anyone . . . uncomfortable.”

“Please,” Regina said with a wave of her hand. “I may actually get my first good night's sleep in twenty years. Good night, Megan.”

“'Night,” Megan said.

As the door closed, Megan sighed and reread her message to her parents.
“The boys are getting used to me.”
Part of her felt guilty for not telling them the whole truth—that the boys were ignoring her and were clearly put out by her presence—but what was the point? She placed her finger on the mouse and clicked send.

Somewhere in the house a floorboard creaked and an outer door slammed; then all was quiet again. This place was definitely not the nuthouse she had expected.

 *  *  *

The next morning Megan opened her door slowly and peeked out into the hallway. Music played from behind one of the closed doors, but the hall was empty and the bathroom door across the way was open. Now was her chance.

Clutching her shower things to her chest, she stepped out at the exact same moment Finn emerged from his room. Megan stopped in her tracks. His wavy hair stuck up in the back and he was wearing a pair of faded Boston College mesh shorts and a white T-shirt. So this was what boys slept in.

“Oh . . . hey. You going in there?” Finn asked.

“Yeah, if it's okay,” Megan said. “I mean, I don't have to right now. I don't want to mess up your morning routine.”

“No, go ahead,” Finn said. “Knock on my door when you're done?”

“Sure. Okay,” Megan said. “No problem.”

After a quick shower in which she tried not to dwell on the dozens of tiny dark and blond hairs stuck to every surface, Megan wrapped her hair up in a towel and slipped back into her pajamas. It sounded like there was a little more activity in the hallway now. She took a deep breath and wondered if it was always going to be this intimidating to simply move around the house.

Squaring her shoulders, Megan stepped out into the hall and her bare foot was almost flattened by a remote-control car. She jumped out of the way just in time and watched the thing zip down the hall and hop a makeshift ramp. Megan's eyes widened in horror as she saw what was at the other end of the jump.

Oh . . . my . . . God!

The car slammed into a mountain of wrapped tampons, which exploded all over the hallway at impact. Ian raced past her, laughing maniacally, wielding the controls. Doug came out of his room to check out the commotion, picked up one of the tampons, and smirked.

“Super-absorbency?” he said, just as Evan and Finn emerged from their rooms on opposite sides of the hall.

“What's super-absorbency?” Ian asked, his forehead wrinkling.

“I don't even want to know,” Doug replied, chucking the tampon in Megan's direction. She caught it, feeling like her body temperature could singe a hole in the rug. Doug laughed and took off down the stairs with Ian barreling after him.

“Ignore him. We all do,” Evan said with a groggy smile.

“Uh . . . dude,” Finn said, glancing down at Evan's boxers, which were covered in cartoon frogs and gaping open. Then Finn glanced over at Megan.

Then Evan went back into his room and closed the door. No shame whatsoever.

“Here, I'll . . . help you clean this up,” Finn said, dropping to the floor and picking up a few tampons.

“No!” Megan lurched forward and Finn fell back from his knees to his butt. She grabbed the tampons from his hands. “I'd really rather you didn't.”

“But I can—”

“No. Just . . . I'm fine,” Megan said, awkwardly gathering up the slippery wrappers in her arms. “Thanks.”

“Okay,” Finn said.

He stood and hovered for a second, prolonging Megan's mortification. Finally Finn walked into the bathroom and shut the door. Left alone, it was all Megan could do to keep from bursting into tears. They had been in her room. They had gone through her stuff. And Evan had seen her
tampons
.

This was definitely the worst morning of her life.

Megan stood up, clamped her things to her chest, walked into her room, and dropped everything on her bed.

Okay, get a grip,
she told herself.
It could have been worse. Somehow
.

With a deep, bolstering breath, she started to lift her pajama top over her head but then saw something out of the corner of her eye and screamed. Doug and Ian were now in the oak tree in the backyard, armed with binoculars, looking right through her window.

“What are you
doing
?” Megan shouted.

Doug snickered and waved. “How ya like my room?”

“
Your
room?”

“Hey, I don't mind bunking with Mill the Dill Hole if I get to check out his view,” Doug called with a laugh.

Jaw hanging open, Megan yanked on the cord next to the window, lowering the blinds.

“Kids! Breakfast!” Regina shouted from downstairs. “If you don't get your butts down here in the next five minutes, you're all going to be late!”

Deep breath,
Megan told herself. She grabbed the wooden chair from in front of her desk and jabbed it under the doorknob as she had seen done so many times in the movies. Dropping to her knees, she opened her large suitcase and her shoulders slumped.

“What the?”

There were purple marks all over the front of her favorite white T-shirt. She picked it up and unfolded it. Drawn right on
the front were two huge circles, each with a dot in its center. Breasts. From their simple rendering it was clear they had been drawn by one of the younger boys. And it wasn't just this shirt. Someone had drawn on three of her favorite tees. Did John and Regina know that their kids were criminally insane?

Just breathe,
Megan told herself. She tossed the T-shirts in the garbage can by the desk. She took out her heather gray army tee and got dressed quickly, then blew her hair half dry and put it back in a ponytail. Suddenly she couldn't wait to get to school. It had to be a hell of a lot better than this place. How had she ever thought that last night's peace and quiet was disturbing?

She opened the closet door to grab her sneakers and tripped back in surprise. Caleb was standing right in front of her with her pink bra tied around his head, the cups sticking up like ears.

“Ha ha ha! Scared ya!” Caleb's little tongue wagged as he laughed.

Megan's heart was pounding. She made a grab for him, but he shot right past her.

“I got your bra-ah! I got your bra-ah!” he sang, dancing around in her room.

“Caleb!” Megan shouted, lunging.

The little sucker was too quick. He dodged her fingers, yanked the chair down with a crash, and made a break for it. Megan chased him to the stairs, but Caleb straddled the banister and slid down it, his feet hitting the ground before Megan could even make it to the second step. He turned, grinned at her, and headed for the kitchen.

“Caleb! No!” Megan wailed.

Down in the kitchen the rest of the boys were talking and laughing and chowing down. Megan barreled down the staircase and raced through the living room.

Megan rounded the corner into the hallway just as Caleb was about to push through the swinging door.

“Stop!” she shouted.

Just then Sean appeared out of nowhere. He grabbed the little guy around the waist with one arm and hauled him up.

“Lemme go! Lemme go!” Caleb shouted over and over again.

Sean snapped the bra from Caleb's head and handed it to Megan. Megan just stood where she was. She had no idea what to say or do.

“There's no controlling that one,” Sean said. They were the first words Megan had heard him speak.

“Yeah . . . thank you,” Megan replied. “If he had gotten in there . . .”

Sean looked at her for a moment. His brown hair stood straight up and there was a streak of blackish-green grease below his right ear. He was handsome in a rugged, dangerous kind of way, but there was something about him that was off-putting. Maybe it was the appraising and almost quizzical way that he was staring at her. Like he wasn't quite sure what she was.

“Yeah, well,” he said.

Then he turned and walked back down a short hallway. Megan watched as he opened the door that led to the garage. The acrid smell of cigarette smoke hit her nostrils and she caught a glimpse of a couple of guys and a girl lounging on an old set of living room furniture. Everyone was wearing black. There was a
drum set in the center of the garage, surrounded by amps and microphones. Just before the door closed again, Megan saw the back end of a mint Harley, its side panels gleaming as if it had been recently waxed.

Megan leaned back and took a deep breath. Apparently Sean was in a band. And the motorcycle had to be his. Maybe one day she would ask him about it. If a day ever came when she felt comfortable under that gaze of his.

For now, finding a hiding place for her bras, panties, and tampons was a far more important priority. Megan ignored her grumbling stomach, turned away from the kitchen, and trudged back upstairs.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Boy Guide

Megan Meade's Guide to the McGowan Boys

Entry One

Observation #1:
When they're beautiful, they know they're beautiful.

Like the second-to-oldest one, Evan. He's a senior. He is perfection personified. And he knows it. You can tell because he just sort of smiles knowingly when you gape at him. Not that I've been gaping at him. Not at all. Anyway, too soon yet to tell if it negatively affects his behavior. (Like Mike Blukowsi and his Astrodome-sized ego problem.)

Observation #2:
They like skin.

Especially skin they think they're not necessarily supposed to be seeing. Like the space between your belly tee and your waistband.

Observation #3:
They have no problem bringing up events that would mortify me into shamed silence if the roles were reversed.

Like Evan totally brought up the wiffleball bat incident, when if that had happened to me, I'd be wishing on every one of my birthday cakes for everyone to forget it.

Observation #4:
They gossip.

Can you believe it? I overheard Finn and Doug in the backyard talking about some girl named Dawn who blew off some guy named Simon for some other guy named Rick for like TWENTY MINUTES! They sounded like those old mole-hair ladies at Sal's Milkshakes. 'Member the ones who lectured us for a whole hour that day about how young women shouldn't wear shorts? Wait, okay, I got sidetracked.