Cruel Summer

Chapter 38

A/N: So much information is spilled here, so that being said—I AM NOT doing any deleted scenes for this book. If you have questions or things you'd like to see, come chat with me on tumblr @luminouslywriting. Furthermore, there's one chapter left to go + an epilogue, so I'm hoping to get the beginning of the third MOTA fic, Mastermind, out on Thursday. Then I'll be waiting a week so I can catch up on some other stuff before I start regularly posting again! As always, let me know what you think!

Chapter Text

October 1953

With the return of John Egan in July of 1953 and the end of the Korean War, Meg almost thought that she could handle things again. The simple fact of the matter was that because she and Bucky were incorrigible and absolutely handsy at every given opportunity, they now had a gaggle of children that were absolute little terrors.

After all, raising five children while one's husband was away definitely kept her busy. The twins had been born in April of 1946—Buck and John Junior, or as he liked to be called, JJ—and they were absolute whirlwinds of energy. With three children under the age of three, Meg had determined that maybe that was enough for them. But then of course, a drunken spring party had resulted in little Curt—who also had the energy of a whirlwind.

Four children had been their solid number and they could handle them. But then the Korean War had hit while she was pregnant with Alex. Bucky had just missed his birth by a good month—which had been upsetting enough. And then he had returned home three years later, totally ready to give his family the full energy that they deserved.

One thing had led to another and now here she was, for what she hoped was the final time, pregnant with their sixth child. But things had calmed down in a lot of ways. Florence was nine years old now, she was a great help to Meg. It was as if she had inherited all of the calm that Meg had been before the war. As the oldest and the only girl, she commanded the room as easily as her mother did.

Meg hoped that Bucky was enjoying a taste of domestic life. She was currently driving home from the office—one of the branches of the Central Intelligence Agency. Meg had been recruited back in 1947, and she had been one of the founding members. Her only stipulation in the entire thing was that she wanted to stay in Wisconsin. So they had put a branch out in the middle of nowhere all so that she could retain the normalcy of her family's life.

Right now, Bucky was supposed to be cooking dinner with the kids. But knowing how Buck and JJ were, they had almost certainly talked him into a game of catch or baseball outside, never mind the snowfall.

She wondered if Marge was having this exciting of a time, what with her two girls and Buck. Considering the fact that they lived down the street and they were always spending time at one another's houses, it wouldn't have been that crazy to infer that they were just as busy at their house as they were at the Egan household.

If you had told Meg a decade ago that she would be growing old with the love of her life, that she would have nearly half a dozen children, that she was living in Wisconsin, that she was doing meaningful work, that she was happy— she would have laughed you out the door.

Their home was holy ground to Meg, and that wasn't something she would trade for anything in the world. And using the years of training that she had amassed during the war, Meg let every worry and tension ease from her shoulders as the car turned down their street and her home came into view.

The tires crunched into the gravel as Meg pulled into the driveway, a small smile crossing her features. She had decided a long time ago, when she had first had Flo, that work stayed at work. And then when the CIA had been created and she had the opportunity to help them establish themselves, she had kept that motto in mind.