CHAPTER 16
The next day passed like a slow-leaking faucet. Madison would have much preferred a rushing fire hydrant. She paced the house, drank coffee, and watched mind-bending, ridiculous television shows. But Adam didn’t call about decorating.
Rubbing her tense shoulders, she told herself to give him the benefit of the doubt, remembering something he said about a picky client. Maybe he—or she—had demanded non-stop meetings all day.
Tired of being pushed around by her ex, her boss’s wife, and life in general, she wasn’t about to call Adam. She was too proud. Maybe he was too good to be true. She had given her all to her previous, crappy boyfriend and look where that got her. If their relationship was going to end before it even began, so be it. Opening the old laptop her neighbor, Mrs. Stapp, had given her, Madison prayed it would work long enough for her to find a full-time job.
As night fell, Madison went through the motions and prepared macaroni and cheese and sloppy joes for dinner.
“Mommy, why are you so quiet?”
“Just tired, sweetheart.” Madison picked at her food.
When Adam didn’t call the following day or the day after, Madison assumed it was over, glared at the bare tree, avoided Betsy’s probing questions, and called her friend, Lisa.
“Morning. Any news on the job front?”
Lisa sighed into the phone. “Nothing. I don’t understand it. With all of the holiday hullabaloo, you’d think stores would need extra employees.”
Madison’s eyes filled with tears as she glanced at a growing stack of bills on the table. “I’m sure they filled the positions months ago. I wonder how Dr. Fenton is faring with his ex and the now-defunct dental practice.”
Lisa groaned into the phone. “That witch. Don’t get me started. Have you ever met her?”
Attempting to sort the bills from highest to lowest priority while she talked, Madison said, “Nope. Never set eyes on her and I hope I never do.”
“Consider yourself lucky. I don’t know what Dr. Fenton ever saw in her. She must come from a real piece of work family to treat people like this.”
Madison laid the rent bill on top of the mail with the utility bill underneath. At the very least, she and Betsy had to have shelter and utilities. “I guess his ex-wife doesn’t matter now.” She sighed. “I feel for our patients, though. Not only were we blindsided, so were our clients. I bet Dr. Fenton has fielded a gazillion calls about toothaches, crowns, braces, broken teeth, and who knows what else.”
Lisa laughed. “I’m sure he has. I hope he forwarded every single one of those calls to his ex-wife, especially the patients who called in the middle of the night.”
Giggling, Madison said, “I can always count on you to cheer me up.” She heard a sound coming from her daughter’s bedroom. “Betsy’s up. Gotta run. I’ll talk to you soon.”
Betsy padded into the room, tugged on her mother’s shirt, and pointed toward the stacked boxes containing pink ornaments. “When are we going to dec-wate, Mommy?”
Madison fumed. I knew he was too good to be true. I knew he’d bail once he saw my decrepit house. Or maybe he decided a built-in family was too much for him.
Betsy yawned. Still wearing her Dora pajamas, she asked, “Where’s Adam, Mommy?”
“I-I don’t know.” She peered at the bulging bags of ornaments from Target. “We’re going to decorate right now, Betsy.” Madison moved the bags from underneath the tree and placed the angel on the coffee table.
Tears streaked Madison’s face as they hung pink balls on the lower part of the tree, which was as high as Betsy could reach. Backing up to view their decorations, Madison managed a small smile when she realized the tree reminded her of a tutu with the pink ornaments hung along the bottom. Ordinarily, she played Christmas music and made fudge when they decorated but was no longer in the mood.
Obviously picking up on her mother’s quiet distress, Betsy asked, “Why are you crying, Mommy? I thought you liked to dec-wate.”
Mad at herself for ruining her daughter’s holiday, Madison brushed a tear with the back of her hand. “I’m being silly. I do like to decorate—especially with my favorite little girl.”
Reaching for the white angel, Madison said, “We have to be careful with this. It breaks, remember?”
“I ‘member. I broke one in the store. Adam didn’t get mad,” Betsy said.
“No, he didn’t.” Madison held the angel in mid-air, barely able to control her emotions. As she reached for her daughter, the doorbell rang three times.
Betsy’s eyes bulged. “Is that Santa, Mommy?” Then, she ran toward the kitchen. “I need to find cookies and milk. Santa likes cookies and milk.”
Madison called for her. “It’s not Santa. Christmas isn’t until tomorrow. Come back. Let’s put the angel on the tree.”
The doorbell rang again.
“All right. All right. I’m coming.”