“The bathroom,” he lied, pressing his lips to Madison’s head. He allowed the kiss to linger.
Madison turned to look up at him, her brows slowly narrowing as she eased back to stare him in the eye. “Have you been drinking? Today of all days?”
“Only two small tots,” he defended himself. “You know what crowds do to me.” And your father.
Madison released her hold on him, one hand moving straight to her hip. “Twenty people, all family and friends, isn’t exactly a crowd. Really, Brody, you’ve been acting weird all day. Pull it together, for our daughter’s sake. If you do anything to mess up this day, I swear—” She marched to the door and yanked it open.
“I won’t,” Brody said toward her back as he followed her inside.
In the dining room, Brody took his place next to the cake table, Madison beside him. Having no glass in hand or spoon to tap against it this time, Brody drew in a deep breath. He pasted on his most charming grin. Then, raising his voice, he said, “Folks, Charity’s going to cut her birthday cake now.”
The buzz of chatter died down.
Brody continued. “I’m sure you’ve all been waiting for this moment, although I do think that cake looks way too good to eat.”
Hear, hears rose around the room.
While Madison pressed the sixteen pink candles into the fondant beside the peonies, Brody’s gaze settled on Charity. “Honey, come closer—it’s your cake; you need to cut it. I, for one, can’t wait to sink my teeth into all that sweetness.” Hopefully Charity would get a good view through the dining room’s window as his gym buddy, Clifford, drove that bright yellow bug into their backyard.
Standing in front of the cake table, Charity’s gaze oscillated between Brody and Madison. “Thanks, Mom and Dad, this has been the best day ever. Nothing can top this.”
Hearing the distinctive sound of the Volkswagen Beetle, Brody pointed through the window. Perfect timing.
“Nothing? Not even that?” The small, yellow car pulled up on the grass outside, horn honking loudly, a big red bow adorning its curved hood. His friend’s large frame filled the small car’s interior. They probably should have chosen someone with less muscle to drive the car to their house.
Charity squealed in unabashed delight. Forgetting all about the cake, she squeezed through the guests, Brody and Madison following close behind. Unable to contain her excitement, she dashed out the back door toward the vehicle, holding tightly to the hem of that flowing dress. Tendrils of reddish-blond lifted in the wind. “I can’t believe it! I can’t believe it!” she cried, and if it weren’t for that dress, Brody was certain she would’ve jumped and twirled too.
Clifford clambered out of the car.
Without waiting, Charity slid behind the wheel and honked the horn again. Never before had he seen such a wide smile on her face. Well, maybe when she was five and got her own paints, canvas, and easel, “Just like Mommy’s and Daddy’s,” she’d said.
She looked up at Brody through the driver’s window. “Oh, Dad, she’s beautiful. Can we take her for a test drive? Pleeeze?”
How did he say no to that? Not that easily, but they had guests anxiously waiting for that cake he’d so eloquently sold them on. And none more so than his in-laws, but for very different reasons. James Harding-Forbes had one eye on the car, and the other on those dark, gray clouds. Brody couldn’t keep anyone waiting while he took a joyride with his daughter.
“In a while, Charity. I promise.” Brody opened the car door. “First I think you need to light those birthday candles and cut your cake, hmm? Your grandparents are anxious to get ahead of that storm.”
“I agree,” Madison said from behind. “There’ll be plenty of time soon enough to enjoy this birthday gift.”
Reluctantly, Charity stepped out of the car. Happy tears brimming, she flung her arms around Brody and Madison’s necks then quickly let go to grab her whipping skirt. “Thank you, Mom and Dad. Thank you so much.”
She gave Brody a light smack on the shoulder. “And you… Test driving all those second-hand cars this morning. I really thought I was getting one of those…maybe. I definitely did not expect this.” With a sniff, she dabbed the corners of her baby-blues.
“Well, you can thank your grandparents for that.” Brody tipped his head to where his father-in-law stood nearby. Then he leaned in to Charity and whispered, “They were the ones who insisted we buy this particular car for you—footed half the bill to ensure it happened.”
Charity hurried over to her grandfather and wrapped one arm around his neck, the other still holding tightly to that dress. “Thank you, Grandpa.” She looked around. “Where’s Grandmother?”
“Still safely inside.” James chuckled. “Didn’t want to get her hair messed up. Not sure how she thinks she’s going to get to the car when we leave.”
Likely she’d have James drive that rental as close to their back porch as he could so as to make a quick dash to the car.
“Then I’ll thank her once we’re back inside.” She linked her arm into her grandfather’s and started toward the house. “C’mon. We have a cake to cut.”
Soon Charity had sliced the entire bottom tier, and neat triangular wedges were handed out to the guests. All the teens and kids went back for a second helping.
After James and Virginia bade a hasty farewell—their pilot calling to say they had to leave within the next forty-five minutes or they could risk being unable to take off—Brody settled into one of the dining room chairs that lined one wall. Seated beside Hope and Tyler—baby Leia fast asleep in her mother’s arms—Brody cast his gaze around the room as he forked another piece of red velvet into his mouth. His eyes settled on Madison where she stood in front of Charity’s portrait talking to Faith and Charles.
Brody glanced at his brother. “’Scuse me for a moment. I think it’s time I encouraged my wife to sit down and relax.”
“I agree,” Hope said. “She’s been on her feet all day.”
Madison’s back was toward Brody as he strode in her direction.
Just then, Faith gave Madison a hug before she and Charles walked away.
The place beside his wife was barely vacant before the good-looking guy who’d arrived on the arm of Madison’s single friend, Jeanette, swooped into the empty spot. Chad, if he remembered correctly.
Standing beside Madison with his arms folded, legs spread-eagled, Chad stared at Madison’s artwork. Brody had been in this business long enough to know a fake art enthusiast when he saw one. So if Chad wasn’t really interested in art, what was the attraction for this dude?
Anger and insecurities boiled in Brody’s gut like a witch’s brew.
Madison.
Stopping close enough to eavesdrop, Brody joined his friends, Duncan and Clifford, where they huddled near the living room entrance, enjoying yet another piece of cake. Not paying any attention to their conversation, Brody heard Chad say, “You really paint this?”
Brody turned just enough to see his wife and the interloper out the corner of his eye. Madison pointed to her signature in the bottom right-hand corner. “I guess so. That is my signature right there.”
Chad leaned in to take a closer look then flashed Madison a cheesy grin. “Madison Peterson. That’s a nice name…the first one.”
Madison’s soft laugh floated on the air. “Why, thank you.”
Chad shifted on his feet, facing Madison more than the portrait he’d been so interested in just a moment ago. “Thanks for not kicking me out of your party. I know I wasn’t exactly invited.”
Madison touched his arm lightly. “My daughter’s party. And of course you were invited. Well, maybe not formally, but you’re here with Jeanette, and Jeanette had the option to bring a plus one.”
Chad leaned in closer to Madison, and lowered his voice. Brody could barely make out his words as he said, “You know, I’ve been waiting all afternoon for the opportunity to speak to you alone. I just wanted to let you know how incredibly attractive and sexy I find you.
”
That was it. Brody had heard enough. He wasn’t going to stand idly by, pretending to chat with his friends, while just a few feet away some stranger with more brawn than brain tried to make out with his wife.
Brody stomped over to where Madison and Chad stood. He brushed past his wife and dug his fingers into Chad’s arm. “Right, buddy, I’ve heard enough. I believe you’ve overstayed your welcome. It’s time for you to hit the road. Bye-bye.” He waved his fingers at Chad.
“Brody! You’re making a scene.” Madison reached for Brody’s hand on Chad’s arm. “Chad and I were just talking.”
Brody’s jaw slackened, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Talking? Looked more like flirting to me.” Brody failed to keep his annoyance in check. “Whatever, Madison, it’s time for this guy to leave and for you to join me and my family.
Madison shifted between Brody and Chad. “No!” Her sapphire-blue eyes glinted, challenging Brody’s authority.
“No?” He did not expect she’d favor some stranger over him.
“No! First you dictate what I should, or rather, shouldn’t wear. And now you want to tell me who I can and can’t talk to?” Madison’s nostrils flared, and her eyes flashed with rage. “Why don’t you leave, Brody? And while you’re gone, maybe you can search for a better mood.”
A smirk tugged at Chad’s mouth, and all Brody wanted to do was wipe it from the man’s face. With his fist.
Brody shoved at Chad.
Chad stumbled back a few steps.
Whirling around, Brody stomped across to where Charity stood talking to her cousin and friends. “Charity, come. Time for that test drive,” he barked.
Dear Jesus,
One day… just one perfect day is all I wanted for my birthday. Mom and Dad couldn’t even give me that. Oh, they almost did. But then they blew it. Big time. Their actions spoiled the rest of the day. I’m just glad that my grandparents had already left and weren’t there to see it.
By the time Dad and I got back from his “test drive”—more like Nascar—the guests who hadn’t yet left were about to do so.
I was so scared. Dad drove way faster than he should have, especially with the strong winds blowing outside. I thought for sure my little yellow car would flip right over. Then there was the alcohol smell on Dad’s breath. Well, You know I haven’t prayed so hard in my life. I’ve only just turned sixteen, and I’ve so much life left to live, so much I still want to do—for myself and for You.
Thank You for bringing my family to my birthday. It was good to have Michael here to talk to. And he was a great shoulder to cry on because his parents have been through some recent troubles too. And Aunt Faith…oh, she always knows how to make me feel better.
I’m glad Michael and I could sit in my room with Baxter and chat. My beautiful pup, and cousin, soon lifted my spirits. I really didn’t want to be with my family tonight—the atmosphere was so thick around the dinner table you could cut it with a cake knife. Mom and Dad weren’t talking to each other, and the rest of the family tried their best to make light conversation. I’m sure everyone turned in way earlier than they’d anticipated. What a damper on the day.
But tomorrow is a new day, a fresh beginning, so I’m going to get up early, put on a happy face, and make cinnamon rolls for everyone. There’s nothing like the aroma of freshly baked cinnamon rolls and brewed coffee to put one in a good mood for the day. I do hope it helps…especially for me. Maybe You could make sure that the morning sermon helps too. Aunt Faith said she would take me to church. Everyone else said they wanted to go too, even Mom and Dad. But You already know all that. I think it’s Mom and Dad’s way of trying to make things up to me for spoiling my party. Well, whatever it takes to see them come to know You. Right?
Anyway, I’m leaving all of their issues in Your hands, because only You can paint a beautiful picture of their lives. Even though they think they’re quite capable, they aren’t.
With love
Charity
(Always a princess in Your eyes)
P.S. Can You help me to find it in my heart to forgive my parents? Again. It seems that the older I get, the harder it becomes. I need Your divine help.
Chapter Five
STILL IGNORING Brody, the fourth day in a row, Madison poured a cup of coffee. A side plate with a slice of buttered toast firmly in one hand, her coffee in the other, Madison joined her husband and daughter at the hushed breakfast table.
Scenting fresh food, Baxter hurried over to Madison’s side of the table, his claws clicking on the ceramic floor tiles.
Madison set the cup and plate down on the table, then gave Baxter a pat and a rub. She smiled at her daughter. “Morning, Charity.”
Charity mustered a smile in return. “Morning, Mom.” She had been sullen and unhappy after her birthday party ended so abruptly.
And even though Charity had hidden her sadness on Sunday morning behind cinnamon rolls, freshly brewed coffee, and a church service, once her cousin and favorite aunt had left, she became cheerless once again.
Madison knew her daughter was hurt, and she didn’t blame her one bit.
Brody offered Madison a good morning which she refused to acknowledge. Since Saturday, Madison had only spoken to Brody when necessary. Never before had they let this many sunsets go down on their anger. Usually they’d explode like Mount Vesuvius and then make up not long after, the eruption quickly forgotten.
Sometimes she wondered if she didn’t deliberately pick fights with her husband just for the sweet make-up sex, because with Brody it was oh so worth it.
But he had messed up big this time. He’d been totally unreasonable on more than one occasion on Saturday. Then he’d driven irresponsibly, after taking two drinks, with their most precious possession in the car with him, taking absolutely no heed of the impending storm. Fortunately, the F0 tornado had skirted through the Tallgrass Prairies National Preserve, fizzling out somewhere between Council Grove and Admire. Still, if Brody didn’t care about hurting himself, fine, but she would not stand idly by while he put their only child’s life in danger.
Yes, he wasn’t drunk—not by a long shot—however, if he’d been pulled over by the cops, he might’ve dodged a DUI, but he wouldn’t have escaped being charged for speeding. At least according to Charity.
And speeding tickets aside, what if he’d caused an accident? What if that tornado had turned and sucked that little yellow car up its funnel? Her daughter wouldn’t have been following the yellow brick road to the Emerald City like the Wizard of Oz’s Dorothy Gale, she would’ve been standing beside the pearly gates. And as for Brody, he’d have been knocking on the gates of hell.
Madison shuddered, the thought of heaven and hell scaring her.
Charity had been shaken when they’d returned, Madison finding her in tears in the bathroom upstairs shortly afterwards. For that, Madison found it hard to offer an olive branch this time, despite Brody’s attempts at sweet talk, his soft touches in the middle of the night. Not even the preacher’s words on Sunday morning about not allowing the sun to go down on your anger had been able to convince her to reconcile, to forgive her husband and put the fiasco behind them.
In fact, she’d been so mad at Brody that as soon as he’d left for the gallery on Monday morning and Charity had hopped on her bicycle, off to Melinda, Baxter quite happy to go for a ride in the wire pet basket up front, Madison had taken photographs of Charity’s birthday portrait and then entered it into the Art USA contest. In the nick of time too. She hadn’t realized the deadline was this Friday. Within three weeks, she’d know if she had made it into the finals.
Madison didn’t know why, but she had the strangest intuition that she would. Crazy thought because she didn’t know the caliber of the other entries…entries from all across America. What she did know was that the judges were ruthless art experts. And rightly so. Ellie Sanders’s reputation was on the line here. They had to make sure they chose the most talented artist in the USA.
She had a
one in fifty chance of winning if she did get into the next round.
Girl in a Field, she’d aptly named the piece while completing the online application.
Without so much as a glance at Brody, Madison set her coffee cup down and informed him that she would be working from home today.
“Home? But it’s Wednesday. It’s Ava’s day off. You always come into the gallery on Wednesdays to help. Charity’s portrait is complete now, so there’s no need to be at home,” Brody whined.
Madison’s spine straightened like a steel rod. Staring into her cup of dark brew, she eased her shoulders back, her voice as icy as the Hudson River in January. “I’m quite sure you can manage on your own. After all, you love being in charge over everything, running the show, don’t you?”
Pursing her lips, she turned to glare at Brody. “Besides, I have to be here—Charity’s appointment for her GDL is this afternoon, or had you forgotten? Somebody has to drive her to the driver licensing office in Emporia. Or maybe you’d prefer she breaks the law and drives herself. Like father, like daughter, hmm?”
Charity shoved to her feet, the chair toppling over and clattering against the floor. “Stop it! Just stop it! If I can forgive you both for ruining my birthday—and believe me, it hasn’t been easy—can’t you just get over yourselves and forgive each other? Kiss and make up like you always do?” She fled the kitchen in tears, Baxter bounding after her.
“You happy now?” Brody thumped his coffee cup down and shoved to his feet, his chair scraping against the tiled floor. He snatched his cell phone and car keys from the table then stomped away.
Soon Madison heard the front door slam shut and Brody’s SUV roaring up the street.
Ugh, she was only making things worse by harboring her anger. She needed to find a way to get past this.
Seated outside the driver licensing office in Charity’s petite yellow car, Madison waited for her daughter to burst through the doors, excitedly waving her new driving permit. She had shifted into the passenger seat so that Charity could drive home. Charity could clock up the first thirty minutes toward the fifty driving hours required to have the restrictions lifted on her license within six months.
Reclaiming Charity Page 5