living_history (living_history) wrote in the_colony, @ 2010-09-08 17:30:00 |
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Entry tags: | ^ week 20, bridget mackenzie, meghan callahan, | bridget and meg |
Week 20: Thursday
Characters: Bridget and Meg
Location: The farmhouse
Summary: Downstairs for food, Bridget is reluctantly dragged into conversation by a bored Meg. Awkwardness ensues.
Rating: G
Despite how the chill was settling into the area with December’s aging, Meghan’s thoughts had a tendency to wander around like summer. Not all the time, but for someone who’s concentration was pretty vital to her everyday survival, she certainly had been drifting off a lot more. Much less aware of things outside her own little bubble of surreal chance.
And who could blame her? Still, every morning since Michael’s return, she woke in the middle of the night with an automatic grab for the body next to her, just to make sure it wasn’t a dream. The initial shock had melted into an almost honey-moon mentality, but by Thursday, when the house was mostly quiet again due to the absence of those off raiding (including her husband), the reality was slowly starting to resettle.
She was in the room she now shared with Michael, sitting on the edge of the bed with Sarge at her feet. A Braille copy of The Road was open and sitting on the tops of her thighs, drawn over by her fingertips in a slow, methodical manner. However, they kept doubling back to the same sentence. Distracted, or unable to concentrate on a book she’d read too many times to count.
Some errant thoughts had been wiggling into her mind over the last few days. Some she very consciously tried to block--like those of Derek. Others reminded her like strings tied around fingers--something needed to be addressed, but she couldn’t remember what, exactly. It was that sort of feeling.
Bridget was feeling hunger pangs as she slowly descended the stairs to the ground floor of the farmhouse. The craving for food had woken her out of her nap, and the young woman intended to take care of that problem directly.
She passed by the room now shared by the Callahans and could see Meg reading a book, Sarge at her feet. Her friend looked comfortable, but Bridget didn’t stop to say hello. Besides the hunger, there was the issue that whenever she saw Meg since Mike had miraculously turned up alive, she was reminded of the fact that Jake was not here and all but certainly dead.
Bridget may not have stopped, but a distracted blind woman picked up on the sounds of her footsteps like a cat to the sounds of tuna being opened. “Bridge?” She called out, almost eagerly. Something about the other woman’s presence was ringing bells she couldn’t place in the mental fog she’d been in lately.
Bridget paused, and glad that Meghan couldn’t see the almost guilty looking expression on her face. Damn, caught. Should have known better. “Hey Meg,” she called out to her friend. “I’m down to get something to eat, again.” It was almost ridiculous the amount of food she was putting away these days, albeit in smaller portions than she would have inhaled a few weeks ago.
She closed the book, not even caring enough to put a placeholder in the page she’d been stuck on for fifteen minutes.
“Want some company?” Meg was already getting up with a pat to her thigh for Sarge. The mom-to-be didn’t really have much of a choice.
Which was quite apparent to said mom-to-be. Bridget’s expression turned into a rueful smile as she started waddling toward the kitchen again, confident the other woman would catch up soon enough. One thing she wasn’t these days was fast. “Sure, come on.” It wasn’t really what Bridget wanted, but Meg clearly wasn’t taking no for an answer.
Catch-up, she did, with Sarge at her thigh and a hand curled into his lead. Meg smiled on reflex when she sensed the open space of the kitchen, finding the toe-line of the carpet to wood flooring before she let go of the dog, and managed forward on her own. She edged up to the kitchen table, finding a chair with her toe before sitting down.
“How y’feelin’ today?” Meghan was suddenly aware of what was bugging her about Bridget--she’d been really quiet. Or maybe Meg just hadn’t been paying closer attention?
“Tired,” Bridget answered honestly. Heartsick, envious, and hypocritical, too. “I think the cold is sending me into hibernation, and I’m eating constantly.” She moved further into the kitchen and began rummaging to see what was being kept warm and what items were in the cupboard that she felt like eating.
Meg probably should’ve guessed at the tired thing. Also the hungry thing... Still, something wasn’t sitting right. She wasn’t even that conscious of it. Maybe the atmosphere was off. Maybe she was missing something.
“Well that’s a good sign, right? The eating.” Meg ‘stared’ straight ahead from behind her glasses, listening to her friend’s shuffling with an attention she hadn’t put to anything lately.
“That and the way I keep expanding, so I’d have to say all systems are still go.” Bridget said, her attention more focused on food than her friend at that particular moment. She busied herself putting a plate together. Part of her wanted to ask about Mike, but hearing about how happy her friend was about being reunited with her husband was really the last thing she wanted to talk about.
Bridget seemed distracted, and the longer the odd pauses between them, the more sure she was that it hadn’t been imagined on her part. Meg’s fingertips drummed the table top once, even as she nodded, then leaned heavily on a folded elbow.
“...somethin’ wrong, Bridge?” She finally asked after hesitating for what seemed far too long. Her voice was careful, and uncertain.
“Why would anything be wrong?” Bridget kept her attention on her plate a moment longer before turning and walking back to the table with it. “I was just focused on making my plate, Meg, that’s all.”
Meg’s lips twitched into one cheek, but it wasn’t a smirk. Just an expression that gave away the fact that she wasn’t entirely convinced either way. She tried to bury the nagging feeling, and ventured into a topic she always liked musing about. Impending bundles of joy.
“Anymore thoughts on names? I hear ‘Apple’ and ‘Orange’ are highest in the poll right now.” Kidding, of course.
Bridget’s lips drew into a smile despite herself, and a chuckle escaped. “There’s a poll? Honestly Meghan I think you’re almost more invested in these two than I am.” She let one hand drop to the swell of her belly, while the other picked up a fork to start digging into the plate.
Meg snorted with all her good nature. “Trust me, I’ll be on those kids like white on rice--or so I’m told.” Anyone who’d spent more than a little time with the Chicago native knew she had always wanted kids. Only a few of those knew how hard she had tried.
Bridget nodded at that statement. “I’m glad people are so supportive, I have to admit I panicked when I first found out I was pregnant.” She shoved a forkful of food in her mouth and started chewing.
Who wouldn’t be supportive? They were babies! (or so was Meg’s opinion) “I can imagine...” She quipped, sitting back in her chair with one arm draped along the back of it. “You hope for a pair of girls, boys, or one of each?”
“One of each would be nice, I think.” Bridget said after a moment’s thought. She still felt awkward around Meg, but talking about the babies was something that wasn’t hard at all. “I know what being an identical twin is like, one of each would make things easier on them as they grow up.”
She returned her attention to her food and could only hope that her emotions about her friend and her friend’s husband would settle down with time. It just wasn’t fun having to tiptoe around them and feel like crap because of it.