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13. Joe

I rubbed her back and hushed her as her racking sobs continued, her tears soaking through my shirt.

"Baby, it's ok. It's ok," I mumbled over and over, pulling her close to me.

I had never been so angry in all my life. The way her father spoke to her, the way he looked at her. There was pure disgust in his eyes. I tightened my hold around her body protectively. I couldn't understand how her own father could treat her like that. This amazing, independent, free-spirited woman I had grown to love so fiercely in such a short time had come from this cold unloving place and it hurt me to think of her stuck here, alone for all those years.

Her sobbing had subsided, and I stole a glance down at her. Her eyes were closed and her breathing shallow. She had fallen asleep laying against my chest. I laid her gently on her bed and reached for my cell. I wouldn't make her stay here a moment longer than she had to.



"Mom?" I yelled as I opened the door of my parents home. I kicked snow from my boots in the porch, and took Megan's hand smiling encouragingly at her. She bit her lip and nervously grinned back at me.

"Joseph, sweetie, you're back," my mom came hurrying from the kitchen, closely followed by my grandmother, her arms open wide to welcome me. She engulfed me in a hug, planting a kiss on my cheek, before releasing me to my Grandmother.

I watched as my mother turned to Megan. Megan looked like a deer caught in headlights as my mothers attention turned to her.

"And you must be Megan. I've heard so much about you," my mother took Megan's hands warmly, before dropping them and flinging her arms around her, gathering her in a warm hug. "Welcome to our humble home," she laughed.

Megan's eyes widened in surprise, before she tentatively returned my mother's embrace. Her face relaxed and relief flooded into her eyes. I smiled encouragingly at her. "Be nice," I whispered to my Grandmother as I turned her around to meet Megan.

"Bubbe, this is Megan," I gestured to Megan. "Megan, this is my Grandmother."

They eyed each other for a few minutes. My Grandmother's eyes roamed Megan's face.

"Megan? That's not a Jewish name," she commented, studying Megan. "What's your father's name?"

"Uh, McCormack," Megan stumbled over her words.

"Irish. Should have known," she tutted, raising her eye's skyward. She chuckled, before planting a kiss on Megan's cheek.

I let out the breath I hadn't realised I was holding. Bubbe approved. I took Megan's hand and followed my mother into the den, to face the rest of the family and explain what the hell we were doing here.





"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Megan's father boomed from behind us. I put the two suitcases we were carrying down and turned to face him.

"I'm obviously not welcome in your home. You've made that more than clear," I replied, looking him square in the eye.

He stepped towards me, narrowing his eyes. "So you're taking my daughter away from me?" he challenged me, his jaw set.

I laughed humourlessly. "I'm not the one driving your daughter away. You've managed that all by yourself," I drew myself up to my full height, leaning over him. I easily had four inches on him. But he was more than a little intimidating. It took all my guts to meet his steely gaze.

He drew his eyes away from mine. "And what do you have to say for yourself?"

Megan refused to meet his gaze. She stood, mute and cowed, staring at the floor.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you," he commanded her as he stepped towards her.

I felt anger rush through me again. I stepped between them.

"That's enough," I put a hand on his shoulder to stop him advancing on her any further. "You're just a bully. She doesn't need this. She doesn't need you."

He looked past me. "You don't need me? Is that right Megan? Is this joker going to pay your rent? Is he going to cover your bills and your fancy clothes?"

Her head snapped up and her eyes met mine. Tears filled them quickly. "Can we just go?" she muttered, turning and heading for the door.

"You'll come crawling back, Megan. You always do," he threw after her.

He turned to me. "As for you. You won't last. You're not good enough for her. Just some loser who wants what he can get," he shook his head at me, contempt clear in his eyes.

There was no point even answering that. We had a plane to catch.



"And that's how we ended up here after all," I sighed as I finished the story.

Megan pulled her hand away from mine to wipe away a stray tear. My mother held tightly to her other hand, stroking her arm.

"You poor girl," tears filled her own eyes as she cradled Megan's head to her shoulder.

Between us, Megan and I had told an edited version of our ill-fated Thanksgiving trip. Obviously omitting the sex part. The up-shot was we were home, and still in time for Thanksgiving.

Megan stifled a yawn.

"Oh, you poor thing. You must be exhausted," my mother realised, glancing at the clock. Eleven thirty. Jeez, it had been a long day.

Megan nodded her agreement.

"You just stay here tonight," my Grandmother said, a statement of fact, not a request. "Then we all wake up together tomorrow. Something to give thanks for, instead of the usual nonsense."

My mother rolled her eyes. "Don't start all that now, Sarah," she warned her. "Yes, you must stay. The bed in your old room is made up Joe. I'm sure you can both squeeze in," she smiled warmly at us.

We all exchanged good nights, and I led Megan to my old bedroom, with the tiny single bed in the corner.

"Wow, that bed is little," she giggled as her arm slid around my waist.

"I can sleep on the floor, I have a sleeping bag somewhere..." I offered.

She pulled me closer, hugging me tight. "No," she shook her head firmly. "I need you to hold me tonight. I don't want to think about anything, or anybody. Just you," she looked into my eyes. Hers were so like her fathers. But softer and filled with love and trust.

We crawled into my tiny bed, wearing my old t-shirts. I held her, and kissed her gently until she fell into an exhausted sleep. As I watched her, I vowed I would never let her father hurt her again. Whether she liked it or not.



AN: This chapter is for A girl nicknamed Peter who has been, um, encouraging me to update. This is a bit of a filler, but another chapter in the next couple days .Promise.