Alpha Billionaire Series

MADIIFrom NôvelDrama.Org.

Home just didn't feel like home ever since I moved in with Drew. I'd visit for dinner or every once in a while, I'd sleep over—like on Christmas when Mom and I would stay up late hanging tinsel and wrapping presents. But for the most part, I'd really moved on from my parents’ house being home. Now when I went for dinner, I even knocked on the door, which felt foreign to me too.

Since Drew went into a coma, I felt like an alien wandering around, trying to find my home. Tonight, was no different as I turned into the driveway and shut off the engine. Dad's Harley sat next to the pair of jet skis in their garage, doo open as if he'd just been in his workshop. Lights shone out the windows of the house onto the front porch. Something smelled delicious, so I knew Mom had been cooking. Every once in a while, Mom invited me to dinner. I usually waited until Violet, my younger sister, was planning a visit home from college to accept the invites, because i made it a bit easier to cope with the fact that I had to make the drive alone. I'd moved to New Orleans from the smal rural town more than a hundred miles north of the city to be with Drew.

Nostalgia hit me as I walked up the pathway toward the house. The heat of the deep south mixed with humid air blowing across the bayou and through the houses that were packed down the narrow street reminded me of childhood. Growing up, Violet and I would ride bikes down this street, chasing cars and roughhousing with all the boys in the neighborhood. It's where I got my love of adventure-seeking.

Once, we had taken bedsheets from our beds and climbed into the neighbor boy's club house. With nothing more than a tight grip on the four corners of the sheets, Violet and I leapt from the 20-foot drop. I tucked and rolled; Viole wasn't so lucky. A sprained wrist and a fractured femur landed her in bed for weeks and crutches for weeks after that. And it landed me on dish duty for a whole month.

I peered up at the old tree in the backyard of the home next to my parents’ and sighed. Life was so simple back then Back when the only worry we had was how much homework Mrs. Edwards was going to give us, or telling time meant watching for the streetlights to come on to warn us that curfew was near.

Anymore, life seemed so complicated and overwhelming. It seemed like when adulthood hit me, so did the reality that I had been so naive as a child. I hadn't lived a sheltered life. In fact, I remember clearly when my Aunt Beverly died of b****t cancer. I was so young I made her a get-well card, and my daddy took it to her because that's what good fathers do. I recall the pain in his eyes when I handed it to him, the way tears welled and rolled down his cheeks. I wasn't naive of the pain, but I also hadn't understood it.

More than anything in life, I wish I could reverse time to a few moments—when all the understanding in the world could have made the difference. How gravity works, so Violet hadn't broken her leg. How cancer destroys and ruins things, so I could have given Daddy a hug instead of a card for his dead sister. How in a moment, life would be over. / single breath stolen was enough to stop every dream you have in life, derail your future, and remove every trace of hope.

“She's still up there.” The deep baritone voice of my father pulled me from my thoughts. I glanced over to see him standing next to me, staring up at that old tree house. He had a rag in his hands, wiping grease from his fingers. His hair was thinner than I remembered, his eyes had a few more wrinkles, but his smile was just as warm and compassionate.

“Daddy.” I threw my arms around him in a sideways hug, and he carefully embraced me, pressing his wrists to my back instead of his messy fingers.

“Welcome home, sweetheart. It's been a while.” He stepped back and continued wiping his hands. “Momma is makin; fresh peach cobbler, just the way you like. She always goes out of her way when you visit like this. I think she misses you."

“I miss you guys too. Just hasn't felt the same lately.” Dad headed for the door, and I followed, head down staring at my sneakers. The cobbled path weaved between the hydrangea bushes and past the water feature Dad had installed at one point. The small headstone for our dog Brutus still lay at the foot of the lamppost next to the porch. Not mucI changed in small towns.

“Oh, well, it's pretty much the same. I reckon it's you that's done some changing. Life has a way of doing that to us, doesn’t it? We all grow and change in different ways, even if we have to be forced to do it”

Dad pulled the squeaky screen door open and hollered out, “Becky, Madii is home. Come say hello, dear” He gestured to the tray on the living room table. Mom had set out a pitcher of lemonade and glasses. “Help yourself, sweetheart.”

Lemonade didn’t appeal to me, but I sat and poured a glass anyway. It was strange to feel like a stranger in your own home. Same couch, same table, same carpet—different me. Dad was right. Life had changed me a lot. Not only was I not a small-town girl anymore, but I wasn’t human. Or at least I didn't feel like it. I felt more like a zombie.

“Oh, Madii!” Mom rushed into the room and sat down so close to me she nearly knocked me over. She squeezed me so tightly I couldn't breathe, and I had to push her away just to catch my breath. “Oh, honey it's so good to see you. I'm so glad you agreed to come back even if Violet couldn't be here. I know it's a long drive. I'm sorry you had to do that alone. You can sleep over tonight if you need to.”

“Mom, really. It's fine. I'm okay. And it's good to see you too. Something smells delicious.” Changing the subject, I scooted away and picked up my lemonade. I sipped it carefully, praying they didn’t ask how I was doing with things, or how Drew was. It was a topic that came up no matter who I talked to. No one cared to visit him, but everyone needed to know how he was.

It didn’t make sense to me. If they cared enough to ask how he was doing, why not visit? Why not show up at my house and do my dishes for me when I was so distraught? I went home to shower and eat, and nothing else— spending every waking hour by his side praying he'd wake up. Oh, people cared. Just enough to get the gossip, but not enough to help out.

“How is Alice?” Mom folded her hands in her lap like a proper Southern belle, and I couldn't help but notice how she'd aged. Her skin looked paper thin; her fingers knobby like my grandmother's had been before she died.

“Alice is good. She and Henry got a new dog. They remodeled their kitchen too. It's nice.” Small talk—with my own parents. So, this is what life had become.

“And Henry?” Dad sat down, draping the greasy towel over his knee. “Isnt he ready for retirement yet? Seems he talked about that a while back.” Dad rested his hands on his knees and leaned back in his recliner, rocking slightly as he always did.

“Henry is good. He decided to stick it out a few more years. Hospital bills and all.” As I said the words, I felt the air in the room change. Like I'd spoken about the elephant and the elephant didn't like it. Awkward silence prevailed as I sipped lemonade. Mom poured a glass for Dad, then for herself, the dishes clanking against the tray.

There was a reason I didn’t come home much. This would have been that reason.

“So, what's for dinner?” I asked awkwardly, hoping they got the point that I was not wanting to talk about Drew.

Mom must have taken the hint, because she got up and motioned for me to follow her as she started talking. “I've made cornbread and lentils, your favorite. And of course, it wouldn't be complete without peach cobbler. I talked to Violet the other day and she sends her best. She's in the middle of finals now so she won't be home for a few weeks. Then only for a few days because she is taking more classes.”

Mom rambled on about Violet and a half a dozen relatives I didn't even remember. When she broached the topic of me attending the family reunion, I gritted my teeth. It was bad enough having to dodge conversations about Drew with my parents. There was no way I was going to that mass-casualty event. No thank you.

“Dear, give the girl a break,” Dad said, pulling out my chair. I smiled at him, relieved he stepped up. Then I sat down and let him nestle my chair beneath the table. Mom served up heaping portions of food onto plates, and into bowls and handed them out. She did so in silence, though Dad asked a few questions about my photography. I talked to him about the new camera I had bought, and the lens I was really enamored with lately.

But as soon as Mom sat down and took a bite, she pointed her fork at me with a squinted eye. I knew that look. It was the look that said, my entire night was about to get really horrible really fast. Like when Paul Revere just rode through town screaming about the British, but you didn’t listen, and now they're upon you.

“You know, Madii, that Thomas Davies from West Chester is single again. He dumped Loretta Miles last week. After hi wife died, he just can’t find love anywhere. He's the football coach for Graham, and let me tell you, he is handsome.” She winked and grinned, like she was giving me the best heads-up a girlfriend could give you.

“Thanks, Mom, but I'm not interested.” And suddenly I wasn't interested in my food either. I pushed some lentils around with my spoon, their savory flavor no longer appealing to me.

“What do you mean you're not interested? He's a perfectly eligible bachelor. He's only one year older than you. I know you have that thing, but really now... You have to move on sometime.” She plunged her fork into her cobbler, and Dad offered me a wince of sympathy.

I sighed, not wanting to get into it, but not feeling like I had a way out. I wished Dad would say something, but I knew he was ultimately a pushover when it came to Mom and her matchmaking. To avoid responding hastily, I crammed a spoonful of lentils into my mouth, chewing slowly. Dad opened his mouth, then closed it—his responses stifled by the tension in the room. I could see the look of compassion in his eyes.

“And really, Thomas is very handsome. He goes to that Baptist church over on South Street, the one where you and Katie Henderson went a few times. Remember?”

“Mom, I am engaged to Drew.” The moment I let the words out of my mouth, my mom scoffed. I knew what was coming. I braced myself.

“Madison Elaine, you can’t stay hung up on someone who is never going to take care of you. You've been waiting a year and a half and you've nothing to show for that time.”

“Nothing to show for this time?” I stood, dropping my spoon in my dish. I knew I should never have come home. “I've grown as a person. I'm more independent than I've ever been. I know how to do things and take care of myself in ways I would never have been forced to learn had Drew did not have this accident. And what would be so wrong with him needing me to take care of him the rest of his life?” Tears stung my eyes. “I'm sorry, Daddy.” I walked over to him and offered a peck on his cheek. “I'll call you tomorrow. Goodbye, Mom. It's time for me to leave.”

“But you've only been here a half hour” She rose and offered a frown.

“I'll call tomorrow.” I headed out the door, scooping my purse off the sofa as I went. My shoulders were heavy as I slumped into my seat. I knew better than to think this would have gone well. I needed comfort and reassurance, not a lecture. So, I called Gavin as I drove home. He understood my grief better than anyone—even Alice and Henry, who seemed to have moved on.

Gavin was quick to respond and offered me a sympathetic ear. We talked for most of the nearly two-hour drive. He was encouraging and offered more hope when we discussed the symposium. Mostly, it was nice to not feel alone anymore, to have someone to talk to. I'd tried talking to Alice, but her only encouragement was to move on. With Gavin, he seemed to understand the heavy weight I couldn't seem to put down, and he helped me work around it. Like learning to dance in the rain.

I liked that about him. And I was slowly realizing that I really liked him as a person.