Back Home and At the Beginning

The cab took Meegan home and when she went to pay the remainder of the fair the cabbie refused her. Sighing softly she silently thanked Tai and walked up to her front door. The house was dark and eerily quiet. As her key turned in the lock, she heard Dill come barreling through the house, barking once. He knew she was home and was greeting her. Meegan swung open the door and Dill cam to a skidding halt at her feet. She knew if she'd been Rachyl he's have jumped on her shoulders and started licking her face.

It made her wonder if she had been wrong to suppress such actions in him as he seemed to derive such pleasure from it. Still she really didn't like being licked, nor did she like being jumped on, so she and Dill would simply not have that sort of demonstrative greeting. Instead she crouched on the floor, letting her bag slid from her shoulder and gave him a hug, and a good scratching. His bag end waggled with the force of his wagging tail and she chuckled at him. He derived pleasure from her greeting as well.

She gave him a final pat and picked up her bag. The sitting room, lower office and sunroom had all been finished that day, and she gazed lovingly at them as she moved into the kitchen. She set her bag on the counter an set the tea pot to boiling. Rachyl had a habit of a cup of herbal tea before bed and Meegan had simply fallen into it. She knew that with out it there would not be sleep in her near future. While she waited she removed her outer garments and hung them on the hook by the outer kitchen door.

Tea made, she carried it and her bag up to the only finished room upstairs. Their bedroom was simply and elegantly decorated and it meant that much more to her, since they had made all of the decisions together. She set her bag on one of the plush chairs of their sitting area and the tea on a coaster on the table next to it.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she unlaced and pulled off her combat boots and socks. Standing she pulled the close-fitting black sweater over her head, followed by a thermal undershirt, and a black bra. She pulled off her jeans and thick winter tights. Picking up all of her clothes she moved to the closet and separated her things into the dry cleaners and laundry hampers, before pulling a pair of silk pajamas off the shelf.

The green silk slid on her body like well...silk. She felt sexy, even though the only skin showing was her belly button and about a three inch swatch of her upper chest between her collar bones. Sitting in the plush chair she pulled out her sketch pad and charcoals.

She needed to redraw each of her sketches so that they could be used as reference in the design stage. As they were now, would be no help to her. She'd have one of Rachyl's assistants find some photographs of naked pregnant women for her. It would seem like an odd request, but it kept Meegan from having to browse porn sights and see something that would make her vomit. Besides, the guy she was going to ask, was a bit of a porn addict and would know where to go to find her tasteful photos.

She carefully pulled each page from the pad and set them aside. She propped up the first one and began to resketch the barely pregnant woman, she had done her best to imagine each woman with out her bulky winter jacket and had done rather decently.

Meegan was on the final page, the last woman from the garden, that had been near the end of her pregnancy when the grandfather clock in the sitting room struck six am. It sang it's little tune at six hour intervals and the bum-bum-bum daa bum-bum-bum brought her back into the world of the living.

She set the last page next to the rest on the coffee table and went into the bathroom to wash her hands. She was tired, but sleep seemed like a foreign thing to her. It would be strange to sleep with out Rachyl. Maybe being apart for two days had been an error in judgement on her part. She sighed, and pulled the bottle of Tylenol PM from the medicine cabinet. She took two and returned to the bedroom.

Dill had taken up residence in his little bed that rested on her side of the bed, she gave him a scratch as she passed him. He would be hungry when he woke, but his food bowl was full with dry food and since his water bowl was connected directly to the plumbing he wouldn't be out of water. He would, however, sulk about the lack of wet food for breakfast, she'd make it up to him by giving him and extra Greenies later.

Picking up the book from the bedside table she thumbed to her place and began to read. It was a compilation of stories and accounts on the mystery surrounding JFK's death. It was not meant to be a factual representation, just a bunch of people expressing their opinion on the subject. So far it had been fascinating.

Twenty minutes into a theory that it was aliens, and she was sound asleep, the book falling to the floor from her limp fingers.