She headed to the office and fired up her laptop. An email had come in over the weekend from Robert Morris containing suggested flights from Kansas City to New York on Friday, returning on Sunday. Well that wouldn’t work.
She opened Expedia and booked two flights to New York—one for herself, one for Charity. Once Madison received the confirmation email, she replied to Rob’s mail.
Dear Rob,
Thank you for the suggested travel itinerary. Something has come up, and I will be flying to New York this afternoon. I’ve already booked my flights. My daughter, Charity, will be attending the gala event with me. Please do go ahead and book the hotel room for Charity and me for Friday and Saturday night.
Madison didn’t know how involved the artists would be once setting up for the event and exhibits commenced, so she’d rather be close on hand at the hotel than at her parents’ house.
We’ll see you sometime on Friday, then—me, Charity, and the Girl in a Field.
Regards
Madison
She hit send then grabbed her laptop and shoved it into its bag along with the power cord. She slung the bag over her shoulder then returned to the kitchen for a quick bowl of cereal. With her flight at 6 p.m., she didn’t have the entire day to prepare. She and Charity would need to leave by two at the latest. Her day would be really full—she needed to pack for both of them and wrap the painting for safe traveling. Only then could she head over to Sandy’s to fetch her daughter. Plus, she’d need to find time to carefully explain to Charity what she was doing and why. Hopefully she would understand and agree to accompany Madison to New York for the week.
After she’d eaten breakfast, Madison retrieved two suitcases from the garage. She took them upstairs and set one down on Charity’s bed.
In her own bedroom, she sorted through the clothes on her shelves and hangers, choosing wisely for the New York humidity. When she had packed her suitcase, Madison moved on to her sweet girl’s room. If she left packing that suitcase up to her daughter, there’d be only shorts and T-shirts in that suitcase. Charity did need a beautiful dress for the gala awards.
Madison folded the peach-colored, sixteenth-birthday dress worn merely a month ago and placed the soft fabric at the top of some well-chosen outfits. She added the white cotton dress her daughter had worn when she sat—or rather stood—for the portrait.
The soft sound of music tinkling from the back pocket of her jeans made Madison pause.
Heart thudding, she reached into her pocket. Could it be Brody calling to apologize?
She shot a glance at the screen, her heart freefalling in disappointment.
“Hey, Sands, I was about to call you.” Well, it was next on her to-do list once she’d packed Charity’s bag.
“How are things in the Peterson household?” her friend asked, her voice dripping with empathy.
“Terribly quiet.” Madison sighed and sank onto her teen’s bed. “Brody must’ve left at least an hour early this morning.”
“What?” Sandy’s pitch rose. “And that after locking you out of your bedroom last night? He really is pulling out all the stops to avoid you. How are you supposed to sort this nonsense out if you don’t see your husband?”
Madison pursed her lips and shrugged, not that Sandy could see her doing so. “I’m not.”
“You’re what?” Confusion laced Sandy’s two words.
Eyes stinging, Madison blinked back the tears that threatened and swallowed hard. “I’m not going to sort this out. At least, not now. I–I’m leaving for New York this afternoon, and I’m taking Charity with me.”
“Whoa, Madison... More power to ya, girl! I’m so glad you’re not backing down and letting this opportunity pass you by. You’ll always wonder if you don’t see this through to the end. And you’ll always resent Brody for that too.”
Sandy was right. Madison would hold this against Brody if she didn’t pursue her win, see where it could lead for Peterson Galleries. Besides, he was being totally unreasonable. And he gave no reason why he hadn’t wanted her to enter.
“But, you’re leaving so soon? Don’t you only need to be in New York by Friday night?”
“I–I can’t stay here until then, Sands…drag Charity into this mess. And I’m hoping that with both me and Charity away, Brody might miss us and rethink his actions.” Maybe even apologize for the way he’d treated her, the things he’d said. But how many bottles of perfume, or boxes of chocolate, or dozens of roses did a girl need when all she wanted was her husband’s support, respect, and understanding?
“I’ll visit my parents until Friday, stay at the hotel Friday and Saturday night, and then back to my parents’ house for Sunday night. I’ve booked flights home on Monday afternoon.”
A soft whistle floated through the phone. “Five nights with your folks… You must be desperate to get away.”
A chuckle slid from Madison’s lips. “W-e-l-l…that aside, Charity does need to spend some time with her grandparents. Why not now while she’s still on summer break?”
Madison rose and tucked the phone between her shoulder and ear so that she could continue packing Charity’s bag.
“Because, um, the timing,” Sandy said. “And the fact that you probably haven’t told your husband about your plans. I’m concerned, Mads, that this could all blow up in your face.”
Madison was also worried, but she wouldn’t tell anyone that. She had to take a gamble that by leaving Brody, he would see that he didn’t mean what he’d said when he told her if she went to New York not to come home.
She cleared her throat. “W–would you mind terribly keeping Baxter until we return? I can’t leave him here alone all day.”
“Of course I’ll keep the pooch. Melinda will be excited. She’s grown rather fond of young Baxter. So much so, I may need to get a puppy in the house too.”
Madison heaved a relieved sigh. “Thanks, Sandy.”
“Meh, no big deal. Besides, that’s what friends are for. Right?” Madison could see Sandy jutting out that sharp chin of hers and raising her pixie nose with that last word.
“You go above and beyond, my friend. One day, you’re going to make another lucky man very happy.” If only Sandy would give love another chance.
Sandy drew in a breath so deep, Madison could hear it through the phone. “I don’t know about that. Grant was my soulmate.”
“And you don’t think you can have another in life?” Madison’s thoughts flashed to what her life would be like without Brody. Would she ever be able to fall in love again if anything were to happen to him…to them? Still… “Grant has been gone for six long years, Sands. One of these days, I’m going to make it my life’s mission to help you to find someone worthy of your love.”
Sandy chuckled. “Or die trying?”
“Exactly.” Madison’s gaze scanned Charity’s dresser to see what else her daughter would want packed. Brush, makeup, hairspray… That should about do it. Anything she’d forgotten, she’d buy in New York.
“Mads, would you like me to drop Charity later?”
“It’s okay. If you don’t mind, soon as I’m done here, I’ll come on over. I want to get out of this house as soon as I can, just in case Brody decides to return.” He’d been married to her for long enough to suspect she might leave for New York earlier. “I’m almost done packing, then I just need to package the painting for transporting to New York. I’ll see you in two hours max.”
“Great. And a good idea to get out of the house. What time is your flight?”
“Six p.m. Probably best I leave around two. Traffic to MCI can sometimes be delayed, especially as one gets into the airport.”
“Sounds good. I’ll make lunch for 1 p.m. so you can be on the road by two, because if I know you, you’ll get so busy and distracted with everything today, you’ll totally skip food.”
Her friend knew her so well.
“Deal.” Madison said goodbye and focused on Charity’s suitcase. She would find the right time on the way to th
e airport to explain fully to Charity why they were leaving so suddenly.
Chapter Twelve
IF ANYONE had asked Madison yesterday morning if she’d be taking a trip to New York this afternoon, she would’ve laughed.
What a crazy, blue Monday, she mused as she steered her red Mini Cooper down the I-35 N, the back seat crammed with her and Charity’s overflow luggage, not to mention the boxed canvas standing behind the front seats. Usually they’d make a trip to the airport in Brody’s SUV—as a family. Having to do so in her small vehicle… Well, all she could say was that it was a good thing she only had Charity in the car beside her, because the trunk was too small to fit both of their suitcases plus Charity’s backpack and their carry-on bags.
The trip to Kansas City airport had started with great excitement, Charity recalling their last visit to New York for her thirteenth birthday and everything she, Madison, and Brody had done together. A visit to the Statue of Liberty and the 9/11 Memorial. A leisurely stroll through Central Park. Looking down on the sprawling city from the heights of the Empire State Building, as well as from the Top of the Rock—the observation deck on the 70th floor of 30 Rockefeller Plaza. Those were just a few of the highlights.
That had been their last visit to New York City. Since then, life had been too busy, the demand for her artwork increasing year after year. Besides, Madison’s parents always made sure they visited at least two or three times a year, so the need to make the journey to the Big Apple was never pressing.
When they neared Emporia, Charity asked if they could stop by the gallery, but Madison tried to get her to see reason. Brody would, no doubt, try to prevent them both from going and she couldn’t handle yet another ugly scene. It was necessary for them to be away from home until Brody calmed down.
“But Mom, I didn’t even get to say goodbye, and I haven’t seen Dad since Saturday,” Charity argued. “We’re going to be away for an entire week.”
“I know, honey, but trust me. This is for the best, as I’ve already explained.”
They settled into conversation about all kinds of things, except Brody. They’d just passed Ottawa when Charity turned to Madison. “Mom, are we really doing the right thing?
Shouldn’t you have rather waited until Friday? Dad might’ve changed his mind by then and joined you.” Uncertainty clouded her big, blue eyes, so like her father’s.
Madison shook her head. “I highly doubt it. I’ve been married to your father long enough to know how he will and won’t react. I can honestly say that this will take him some time to get over.” She just hoped that by the time they got back home to Cottonwood Falls, he had—and that he’d forgiven her for entering the contest and going to New York without him, taking their daughter instead.
“Crazy thought, Mom. What if Dad also entered the contest and was bitterly disappointed when you told him that you’d taken the win for Kansas, realizing he’d failed? It could explain his strange behavior.” Charity scrunched her nose, shifting the freckles that dotted her skin. “I’ve always thought Dad was maybe just a tiny bit jealous of your talent.”
Crazy thought?
Brody entering Art USA certainly wasn’t something Madison had considered. But surely he wouldn’t have? Unlike her, he would’ve said something.
She turned and offered Charity a wobbly smile. “I–I don’t think so, honey—that he entered or that he’s jealous of me.” But Madison’s words were more to reassure herself than her daughter.
The day at the gallery had been long—especially as he’d arrived forty-five minutes early—so Brody was relieved when he was finally able to lock up shop, get into his SUV, and cruise the familiar US-50 west back to Cottonwood Falls. Although he wasn’t looking forward to facing Madison.
Still, so often today he’d wanted to pick up the phone and call her, tell her he was sorry, that he didn’t mean the awful things he’d said yesterday. But he couldn’t, even though he had desperately missed the feel of her next to him last night and the sound of her voice this morning. It was the first time he’d ever locked her out of their bedroom. But one day, hopefully, she would see that the stance he’d taken was for her own good.
For their own good.
How is she supposed to know that if you won’t tell her?
Right… If only he could open up to her. But he’d never been that vulnerable with anyone before. And if he confided in Madison, would she keep the secret he had carried alone for decades? What if she told Faith? And Faith told Tyler? He shuddered to think what his “family” would think of him then? His siblings would probably resent him for fooling them for a lifetime.
And most importantly, how would Madison react to this hidden part of his life?
Hopefully she would have had a change of heart about this contest by the time he got home. How he longed to hear her say that she was sorry she’d gone behind his back, that she’d be pulling out of the contest. If he were a praying man, he’d be down on his knees right now asking God for exactly that. But his wife could be so hard-headed at times that it wouldn’t surprise him in the least if she’d already booked her ticket to New York for Friday. Or contacted “Daddy” to fly his private jet to Emporia to fetch her.
Then again, she could be so unpredictable too. Maybe she would surprise him—in a good way.
Brody arrived home just after six, as he always did. He pressed the remote control dangling from his keyring. The large, wooden garage door began to roll up. Like a ray of sunshine, Charity’s bright yellow Volkswagen greeted him.
Strange, Madison’s car wasn’t there. She was probably over at Sandy’s house.
After parking, Brody stepped inside the house.
“Charity…”
Deathly silence greeted him, like an unwanted guest. Not even a yap from Baxter. Where was that pooch?
He set his briefcase and jacket down on the kitchen counter then gave a soft whistle, expecting any minute to see Baxter round the corner and burst through the open door, claws clicking like castanets against the floor tiles.
Nothing.
Had Madison taken Charity and Baxter with her? For a simple visit to her friend, assuming that’s where she was? Didn’t those girls realize that the dog could survive for a few hours at home alone.
Brody strolled over to the stove and opened the eye-level oven door. He drew in a deep breath then slammed the door shut. The only thing simmering in this kitchen was his annoyance.
He yanked his cellphone from his shirt pocket and dialed Madison’s number, ready to give her an enormous piece of his mind.
You’ve reached Madison. If you’re listening to this message, I’m probably up to my pigtail in canvases and paint. So leave your name and number, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.
Annoyed, Brody hung up without leaving a message.
He tried Charity’s number.
Hey, it’s me. You know what to do after the beep. Beeeep. His daughter’s giggle followed before voicemail kicked in.
“Charity! It’s your father. Call me. Or tell your mother to call me.”
Brody opened the refrigerator then poured himself a glass of fruit juice. Then he took out the cheese and cut himself a thick slice. Munching the cheese and sipping the juice, he headed upstairs. He’d have a shower first, and then worry about whether he’d have to rustle up his own dinner.
His irritation fractionally tempered after he’d freshened up, Brody dressed, leaving a smaller towel around his neck until his hair dried. He lifted his phone from where he’d discarded it on the bed.
Nothing.
Neither Madison nor Charity had returned his calls.
He dialed Sandy’s number.
After several rings, Sandy answered. “Brody…”
Annoyed with Sandy by default, Brody forced a pleasant tone to his voice or else he’d get nothing out of Madison’s best friend.
“Sandy, hi. Are Madison and Charity perhaps at your place?”
“Nope.”
A short and not-so-sweet
answer. But what else had he expected from Sandy? Madison had probably told her everything about their fight.
“Um, well, do you know where they might be?” he asked, still remaining cordial.
“Maybe.”
Good grief. Hell might have no fury like a woman scorned, but the best friend of such a woman had just as much fire in her.
“Well, could you tell me then? I’m worried about my wife and daughter.”
“Humph,” came Sandy’s one-syllable response.
Brody had to bite his tongue not to tell her what an absolute bundle of joy she was tonight…a woman of many, many words.
“Sandy, please, if you know where they are, I need to know.” He wasn’t begging, but if it took sounding like that to find out where Madison and Charity were, then so be it.
“They’re on a plane to New York,” Sandy spat. “And I don’t blame them one bit!”
It was dark and late by the time Madison and Charity stepped off the plane at LaGuardia Airport. Would’ve been so much easier if they’d been able to fly into Newark airport. Oh well, at least their return flight was from there, so much closer to her parents’ Staten Island home.
They each grabbed their suitcases from the luggage carousel then stacked them and their carry-on bags onto a baggage cart. Madison carried the narrow, rectangular box with the canvas safely tucked inside—‘Handle With Care’ labels stuck on both sides—while Charity pushed the cart.
Out in the arrivals area, a good-looking, uniformed man around Madison’s age held a board with Madison & Charity written on it. Spotting them, he smiled and headed their way.
He held out a hand. “Hello, I’m William, but you can call me Liam. Your father sent me to fetch you.”
Shaking his hand, Madison said, “Hi. I’m Madison Peterson and this is my daughter, Charity.” She smiled. “Thank you so much for picking us up, especially this late.”
Liam tipped his chauffeur’s cap. “It’s my pleasure, Mrs. Peterson.” He took the baggage cart from Charity.
Just over an hour later, her father’s Lincoln Town Car pulled up outside her parents’ elaborate, Queen Anne-style home. She had grown up in a house only slightly less stately than this one that bordered the Saint Francis Woodlands. Madison could never understand why her parents wanted to go bigger and fancier once her father made it to the top of the corporate ladder. Especially as it was just the two of them, and the place they’d previously lived in more than showed off their achievements.
Reclaiming Charity Page 10