CHAPTER 4
703 Words
CHAPTER 4
“Hi, Kitty.” Megan tried to enunciate each word but hoped she wasn’t dummying down her language too much. “I’m Megan.” She thought back to when she first moved to Costa Rica. Had she felt as out of place then as she did now?
She gave Kitty what she hoped was a warm smile.
Blink.
Megan glanced at Scott. What did blink mean?
Susannah was massaging her sister’s legs and glanced up. “Kitty, don’t you think Scott and Megan look an awful lot alike? And you know what else? He’s a year and a half older than she is, just like I’m a year and a half older than you.”
Megan wondered how long it would take before she could talk to Kitty that comfortably. Granted, Susannah had quite a bit of a head start in experience and practice. Megan watched her as she kneaded Kitty’s thigh muscles. Her legs were as skinny as Susannah’s arms.
Forcing herself to stop staring, she stepped up to Kitty’s bed. “So have you ever heard of Costa Rica? That’s where I live.”
Blink.
Megan glanced at her brother again. She could be an old woman after spending her entire lifetime sharing the gospel completely independent of anybody else, but the minute her brother came into the room, she’d look to him to take the lead in a conversation.
Scott walked over to a world map taped above Kitty’s dresser. “Right here,” he said, pointing to the small country. “Costa Rica. We’ve talked about it before. Remember the story I told you about that naughty little monkey who stole my sunglasses when I was there visiting?”
Kitty let out a snort, and at first Megan was worried she was choking, but Scott laughed, and she realized Kitty was doing the same.
A girl with a sense of humor. Now Megan was starting to feel more comfortable. “Oh, that wasn’t the worst,” she added, chuckling herself at the memory. “After Scott got his sunglasses back, the monkey was so mad it started throwing mangoes at him. Do you know what mangoes are? It’s a kind of fruit we have in Costa Rica. It kind of tastes like …”
She stopped herself. Was it rude to talk about food with someone who survived entirely on formula?
Susannah glanced up from her massage. Had Megan made some kind of irreparable mistake?
Scott sat on the corner of Kitty’s bed, looking as comfortable as if he were reclining in a sauna. He was always so encouraging, which is why she’d turned to him that first Christmas in Costa Rica. He grinned at Kitty. “So tell me, kiddo, you still coughing up a bunch of green yucky guck today?”
Megan looked to Susannah, expecting her to answer for her sister, but she kept on massaging her legs and didn’t respond.
Scott reached over and felt Kitty’s forehead. “You’ve got to get better so the doctor doesn’t have to come over here and put any of those nasty IVs in your arm. Did you eat your lunch today?”
Blink.
Scott sighed. “Well, you’ve got to promise to try a little harder at dinner, all right? You can do that for me, can’t you?”
Blink. Blink.
He patted her shoulder. “That’s my girl.” He stood up and smiled down at Megan. “You want me to show you to your room?”
She nodded. Silly how she had traveled the world, spent years as a missionary ministering to orphans living in some of the most heart-wrenching conditions, and her biggest worry was that Scott’s new family might not like her.
“Come on.” Scott looked back and smiled at her. He was nearly a foot taller than she was, but she remembered back to when they were little. Did he ever tell his wife about the way he’d dress up in their mother’s skirts and jewelry to play house or castle with his baby sister?
The problem was no amount of make-believe could shield them from the unhappiness of their childhood.
She paused in the hallway, studying a framed wedding picture. Scott was holding Susannah in his arms, her long train draped over his shoulder and blowing in the breeze.
He looked so happy. So proud.
Like maybe he’d finally managed to forget everything he and Megan had gone through when they were young.
Whatever his secret was, she hoped he’d think to share.
- Writer
