Chapter Text
(Meghan)
I put my key through the lock and opened the door.
The house was dark and silent. Eerie.
As I made my way through the front hall to the stairs, I got the shock of my life.
Yami and Mom were sitting in the family room. In their formalwear.
Mom turned on the lamp sitting on the end table next to her.
And they did not look happy.
“Excuse me, Miss. Where have you been?” Yami asked in a calm, yet creepy voice. I could tell he was VERY angry.
I was busted.
“Uh…” I couldn’t make up an excuse on the spot. “Out?” I volunteered.
“Out? Meghan Rachel Berenson, you’re grounded!” Mom yelled as she came over to me.
“But-” I tried to say.
“But nothing.” Mom snapped back at me.
“How did you even know I wasn’t here? You were supposed to be at that gala downtown!” I asked.
“Your grandmother came to your room to check on you after she and Dad put your brothers to bed, and found out that you had snuck out of the house. We had the police looking all over for you! You know you can’t go out without a bodyguard! You could have been kidnapped!” Mom yelled.
Just then, Mom got a call on her cell phone. She took it and walked to the kitchen.
“Yeah Mom, thanks for calling, she’s here…” I could hear her voice fade into the background.
“Say something. Defend yourself. Say anything.” Yami spat at me.
But I couldn’t defend myself. All I did was roll my eyes, and I started to make my way to the steps.
“I don’t have time for this.” I mumbled under my breath.
“Oh, yes you do.” I started to walk up the steps, Yami got in front of me.
“What are you doing?” I yelled as I pushed him away from me. He grabbed my arms.
“Wait, is that liquor? Do I smell liquor on your breath? You were out DRINKING?” he asked me incredulously as he held my arms.
“I only had a little-“ I tried to say.
“You’re not supposed to be drinking at ALL! You’re 14 for heavens’ sake!” Yami was REALLY pissed off.
“I didn’t have that much-“ I tried to say.
“Didn’t have that much? DIDN’T HAVE THAT MUCH!?! Are you even listening to yourself?” he asked me.
“You know what? I don’t care anymore.” I spat out.
I tried to wrestle my arms away from him, but as soon as I did, the joint fell out of my jean pocket.
“AND WHAT IS THIS? A JOINT? PLEASE TELL ME YOU WEREN’T SMOKING WEED!” He yelled as he picked it up.
“I never smoked it! Someone just gave it to me to hold!” I screamed.
“I don’t believe you.” He snarled.
“I’m not lying!” I yelled back.
“You lied to your grandparents! Why should your mother and I believe you now?” Yami yelled at me.
“You know what? I don’t have to stand here and take this.” I rolled my eyes and tried to get away from him.
“Oh, you will.” He stopped me from going up the stairs.
“I don’t have to listen to you. You’re NOT my father!” I yelled.
Oops. I had said it. There was no turning back now.
Yami looked pissed. He stopped speaking for a minute.
“Yeah, you’re right. I’m not. I don’t run away from responsibility. Like he did.” He finally seethed.
“You can’t talk about my father that way!” I yelled back at him.
“What is going on out here?” Mom asked as she came to the stairwell.
“You ask her. She’s the one drinking alcohol and smoking weed.” Yami gave Mom the joint with one of his hands while he was still holding my other arm.
Mom looked at me wide-eyed. She was eerily calm for about 5 seconds.
“Meghan. Go to your room.” She finally said.
“But-“
“Meghan. GO!” She yelled.
I stomped up to my room, but then I could hear them arguing from the upstairs hall.
“Cassie, I don’t know how much more of this I can take. She’s out of control.”
“Look, Yami, she’s going through a rough time-“
“She’s not listening to either of us Cassie.”
“Yami-”
“Cassie. She SNUCK out of the house while GROUNDED to go drinking and smoking with her friends, and she probably did God knows what else.”
“Yami, I know-“
“You need to get a handle on her, Cass,”
“I will. And I heard what you said about her father. You didn’t have to talk about Jake like that, Yami. And you do NOT put your hands on my child.”
“She put her hands on me first! And Jake…he left the both of you! I’ve been raising his kid, your kid, for 9 years and this is the thanks I get?! Do you still have feelings for him or something?”
“No! It’s not like that.”
“Well you better figure something out Cassie. It’s either her, or me. I’m sick of this.”
I could hear him stomp past her and towards the guest room.
All I could do was lay down on my bed and cry myself to sleep.
The next morning, I had a killer headache. It must have been from the Stoli. I wasn’t used to drinking, not even a little bit.
As I rubbed my head and grabbed my clothes to take into the bathroom with me for my shower, I thought about what Yami had said. “Her or me.” He didn’t really mean that, did he? He wouldn’t divorce Mom because of me…or would he?
After my shower, I got dressed and went back to my room. I could see Mom sitting in my desk chair in her robe across from my bed.
“Meghan, Meghan, is that you?” she asked me as I walked through the door.
“Yeah Mom.”
“We need to talk.” She said.
I closed the door and sat down on my bed.
“Look, I’m sorry for last night-” I started to say.
“I think last night was a symptom of a deeper problem, Meghan. For the last few months, I have tried to tell you that Yami is your stepfather, and you need to listen to him, and to us. You need to abide by our rules. That little stunt you pulled last night showed me that you don’t respect him. It also showed that you don’t respect me. The drinking, the drugs, putting your hands on Yami…something has to change. I called your grandparents this morning and told them everything-“
“Grandma Michelle and Grandpa Walter?”
“No, your father’s parents. You’re going to be staying with them this summer. Starting now.”
My jaw dropped.
“Mom! How could you?”
“They’re on the way from Santa Barbara to pick you up. So I need for you to pack your things and wait downstairs for them. They should be here in the next 30 minutes.”
“But it’s Saturday! Grandpa never drives on Shabbat! Unless he’s going to synagogue.”
“He can drive during emergencies. And this is an emergency.” Mom stood up and pointed to my closet.
“Your suitcases are in your closet. Come on. Let’s go.”
I started to pack my things and stuff my suitcases full of my clothes and shoes. Mom stood over me the entire time, watching me like she was a cop.
Finally, I filled my two suitcases and carry-on with most of my clothes and shoes. I reached for my iPhone and my Apple Watch, but Mom took them from me and put them in her robe pocket.
“You’re not taking those with you, Meghan.”
I lugged my suitcases down the stairs and out to the front porch. Mom sat there with me. We didn’t say anything. We didn’t have to, I guess. I understood how pissed off Mom was at me.
Finally, after about 10 minutes, I saw their car pull up the driveway.
Grandma Jean popped out of the passenger’s side door, walked over to Mom, and gave her a hug.
“Thanks for coming out, Jean.”
“No problem, Cassie. Is she ready?” Grandma Jean asked Mom, with her eyes on me.
“Yes, she is. We were just waiting for you to arrive.”
“I’ll put her suitcases in the trunk.” Grandpa Steve said as he shut off the engine and came out of the driver’s side door. He walked up to me and grabbed both of the suitcases and put them in the trunk.
I rolled my carry-on behind me and put it in the backseat.
“Have a seat in the back, Meghan.” Grandma Jean told me. I sat in the back and put my seatbelt on.
“Call me when you get in?” Mom said to them as they made their way back in the car.
“Oh we will. Say goodbye to your Mom, Meghan.” Grandma said as they were buckling up.
I didn’t say anything.
“Say goodbye, Meghan.” Grandma Jean repeated, a little more impatiently this time.
“Bye Mom,” I mumbled as Grandpa Steve backed the car up and put the rear window up.
I could see Mom wiping a tear from her eye as she turned and went back up the stairs to the front door. I knew, deep down inside, that she didn’t want to do this.
But there was nothing I could do. She made her choice.
She chose Yami.
As we pulled out of Mom’s farm and onto the main road, Grandpa started to play some jazz music from the 1970’s on the radio. The Manhattan Transfer. His favorite jazz band.
“Grandma, can we listen to something else? We have a long ride ahead of us.”
“The answer is no, honey. I need you to sit and think about what you did.” she said.
Grandma and Grandpa started to discuss some things amongst themselves and so I looked out the window at the other farms, that turned into subdivisions, that then turned into strip malls.
Then we were on the highway.
It felt like Grandpa was driving 5 miles per hour in the slow lane, so I just looked out the window and started to stare at the other cars driving by.
I started to play the license plate game and count how many out-of-state license plates I saw on the road with us.
I was up to 3 (1 from Hawaii, 2 from Nevada), when Grandma turned around and asked me a question.
“Meghan, have you had anything to eat today?”
“No Grandma, I woke up and Mom told me to start packing my things.”
“Well, we can fix something for you when we get home. Nothing kosher will be open today.”
“Even though I love Rosenberg’s Deli. Best Lox in the city.” Grandpa chuckled.
We got to the interstate exchange that would take us to Santa Barbara, and Grandma said something to Grandpa.
“Remind me to call Dan, Steve. We need to coordinate for the family reunion. Especially since Sara just graduated from Berkeley Law.”
“What is she now, 25? Time flies!”
“It sure does, Steve. It seems like just yesterday…” Grandma’s voice trailed off into nothingness again.
Grandpa took one hand off the steering wheel and squeezed Grandma’s hand.
I often thought about Dad and Uncle Tom, and how neither of them lived to be 25. I knew she was thinking about them now.
Finally, after a long while, we made it to Santa Barbara. We pulled off the highway, past downtown, and into the suburbs. Grandma and Grandpa lived in one of the newer gated townhome developments there.
We drove past the guard on duty and through to their house. They lived in an end unit, so they only had one neighbor.
Grandpa parked in front of the house and cut off the engine. “We’re here. I’ll pop the trunk so we can get Meghan’s things from the back.” They got out of the car.
I unbuckled my seatbelt and took my carry-on off of the seat next to me. Then I followed Grandma and walked behind them through the front door of the house.
Grandpa took my bags up to the guest room and put them in the closet. I came up right behind him. Grandma pulled out her cell phone and called someone, I assume Mom, to let her know we had gotten in safely.
“You can leave your carry-on here, Meghan. I want you to come downstairs and meet me and your Grandmother in the living room.” Grandpa said.
Grandma and Grandpa didn’t have a lot of pictures in their house. They had my baby picture and a few more of me on the walls, a few of Jordan, Sara, Justin, Brooke, and Forrest and their families, but almost none of Dad or Uncle Tom.
I came down the stairs and took a seat on the loveseat next to Grandma Jean. Grandpa Steve sat across from me on the sofa.
“Meghan. Tell us what’s going on.” Grandma said.
“Mom probably told you already.” I deadpanned.
“There are two sides to every story, Meghan.” Grandpa reminded me.
“Well, Yami and I haven’t been getting along. He’s just been really hard on me. Yesterday he was yelling at me for not excusing myself from the table and not saying grace. So, Mom grounded me for how I talk to him, but I snuck out of the house because I wanted to go to the movies with my friends. Then I went to this house party…”
“And you drank?” he asked.
I nodded my head.
“Did you use drugs?” he continued to ask me.
I shook my head.
“What about the marijuana that Yami found on you?” Grandma inquired.
“I just had it in my pocket. Someone gave it to me, but I didn’t smoke it.” I tried to explain.
“And your Mom said you hit Yami?!” Grandma asked, incredulous.
“He was in the way. I was just trying to get away from him.” I said.
Grandpa sighed and scratched his forehead. Then he spoke.
“Meghan, you know you can’t be around drugs. Even though they’re legal, you’re too young! And they’re addictive. And you KNOW you can’t drink until you’re 21.”
“Plus, because of who you are, people are going to try…to get you to do certain things. And you can’t.” Grandma added. “And you know you have to keep your hands to yourself. No matter who is making you angry.”
“Mom and Yami don’t care.” I finally said.
“Sweetheart, of course they care-” Grandma tried to say. But I cut her off.
“They only care about my little brothers. They don’t care about me.” I explained.
“Well, your brothers are toddlers. They HAVE to spend more time looking after them than you, Meghan.” Grandpa finally said.
“But it’s gotten worse now that Mom is pregnant again. Everything is about the baby or Coen and Kuparr. It’s like I don’t exist. Graduation was so nice because they were focusing on me. Even Grandpa Walter and Grandma Michelle…It just seemed like everyone cared about me.” I put my head in my hands.
“Oh Meghan, we care about you. And they do too.” Grandma rubbed my back.
“Yami doesn’t. He said that Dad…ran away from his responsibility on Earth when he went to save Ax after getting Mom pregnant.”
Grandpa looked out the window, silent. Grandma scootched closer to me and gave me a hug.
“Meghan…that’s not what happened. You don’t have to carry the burden of what your mother and father did.” Grandpa finally said with a sigh.
“I’m just tired of him.” I spat out.
Grandma rubbed my back again.
“Well, I’ll tell you what. Let’s have breakfast. You’re probably hungry right now. I know I am.”
Just then, Grandma got a text on her phone and the doorbell rang.
She got up from the loveseat and went over to the front door. She spoke to someone briefly and brought back a beautiful golden retriever.
“Oh Meghan, I forgot to tell you. This is Bart, my new emotional support dog. I adopted him last month.”
“You guys adopted a dog?” I asked.
“Yes, we did.” Grandma said.
“Why?” I was curious.
“Well, we haven’t had a dog in some time, and Bart helps me deal with things…” Grandma trailed off.
Bart started to bark a little bit as he came over to sit next to me. I rubbed his head.
He was such a pretty dog.
“How old is he Grandma?” I asked.
“He’s 2. We rescued him from the kennel. They were going to put him down.”
I thought about my father’s dog, Homer. It was his first morph, according to Mom. The same breed of dog, too. That couldn’t be a coincidence.
“Well, let me start fixing breakfast. We have some bagels that we picked up from the Bagel shop yesterday. Your grandfather is going to put lox on his. I know you’re a vegetarian, Meghan, so all we have is cream cheese for you.” Grandma took Bart by his leash and went to the kitchen.
“Could you make me some coffee, honey? You know I shouldn’t touch electricity on Shabbat.” Grandpa said as he started walking toward the kitchen.
I followed them there and had a seat at the kitchen table. Grandma was slicing up the bagels and turning on the coffeemaker.
Grandpa sat next to me while Grandma stood at the stove.
“Hey Grandma, Grandpa, after we eat can I watch Netflix or Hulu?”
“No. Your Mother said you can’t watch any of your streaming services while you’re here. You won’t be able to use our computer or listen to Spotify either.” Grandpa said.
WOW. Mom was really doubling down on punishing me.
“Well, what am I supposed to do here?” I asked, completely puzzled.
“You’re going to read books, and write letters to your Mom and Yami, and your other grandparents apologizing for your behavior.” Grandma said as she took the lox and cream cheese out of the fridge.
“This is a little bit like jail,” I sulked.
“Yeah, it is.” Grandpa said sternly.
I frowned.
“This is all for your own good, Meghan.” he said.
The next couple of months would show me just how ironic that statement would be.