by Naomi Niles
“I’ve seen your clothes, Madison,” Whitney said critically. “Cute as they are, you don’t have many choices.”
“I wasn’t really paying close attention to my wardrobe, you realize,” I reminded her. “I had a few other things on my mind when I left home.”
“Well, we’ll just have to remedy that soon then,” she said. “Did you find anything in my closet that you’d like to wear tonight?”
“I’m a little taller than you are.”
“Good, my stuff will be shorter on you,” Whitney said, with a wink. She pushed past me and started whizzing through her closet. Then she pulled out a tight red dress with thin straps and a small slit on the side. “This will look amazing on you.”
“It’s a bit much,” I said uncertainly.
“Try it on,” she said in her authoritative voice.
I didn’t argue, I just took the dress and headed for the bathroom. Once I was alone, I put on the dress and zipped up the side of it. Then I turned to my reflection in the mirror. It was tight, but not overly uncomfortable. It gave me a lovely silhouette and made me seem taller somehow.
I worked the top layers of my hair into a series of little braids and then draped them around my head, leaving the lower layers of hair loose around my shoulders. I dabbed on some lipstick and eye shadow and walked outside.
“Well?” I asked, turning to Whitney.
“Fuck, yeah!” she said approvingly. “You look smoking hot.”
“Great, then we’re ready to go?”
“We’re ready.”
Dave’s bar was already packed when we arrived around nine. “Lola said she would be here in ten minutes,” Whitney told me. “So, we can head on in now.”
As we walked in, Whitney spotted Dave. He gave us a wave and headed over immediately. He gave both Whitney and I a kiss and a hug, but I noticed he lingered a little longer around me. Whitney seemed to notice, too, because she gave me a pointed wink.
Half an hour later, Lola had arrived with a group of other girls in tow and the party had kicked up a notch. Everyone was laughing, drinking, and dancing. Everyone seemed to be having an amazing time, but I couldn’t seem to catch the vibe they were feeling. I just sat there, sipping my drink without really tasting it, nodding along to conversation I wasn’t really listening to and smiling until my face felt tight and tired from the strain of it.
Whitney must have noticed my mood change, because half way through the night, she turned to me. “What’s wrong, Madison?” she asked. “You don’t seem to be having a good time.”
I let my smile drop. “I’m just not feeling it tonight, Whitney,” I replied. “And I don’t think I can keep up the façade any longer. I think I’m just going to go home and crawl into bed with Polo.”
“Are you sure?” she said, without pushing it.
“Positive,” I nodded, relieved that she wasn’t going to try and force me to stay.
I gave her a quick hug, said goodbye to Lola and the girls, and headed for the exit. I had just stepped out into the relative quiet of the street when Dave caught up with me.
“Hey, Madison!” he called. “Don’t tell me you’re leaving already?”
“I’m tired,” I replied. “I just want to get to bed.”
“Aw, come on,” he pleaded, taking a step towards me. “The party’s is just getting started. Come back in with me and we can dance.”
I smiled impatiently at him. “Thank you, but no.”
I was about to walk away when he reached out and grabbed me by the arm. The gesture brought back the memory of Victor grabbing me a few days before, and I felt rage flood through my body as I yanked my hand away from him. “Don’t touch me!” I yelled.
He looked at me in shock, obviously taken back by my reaction. “Whoa,” he said, as his expression changed. “I didn’t mean any harm.”
“I just want to go home okay?”
“Fine,” he said, his tone turning cold. Then he turned and walked back into his bar without a backward glance.
Sighing, I headed back to Whitney’s apartment. Polo greeted me as I opened the door, and I bent down and planted a kiss on his head. “Hi, boy,” I said. “I just couldn’t hack it tonight. It was loud and boozy and all I kept thinking about was… Well, you know.”
I changed into comfy pajamas, took off my makeup, and got under the sheets on the couch with Polo snuggled up next to me.
“I keep thinking about him, Polo,” I confided. “I keep thinking about Peter.”
Despite how tired I was, it took me awhile to fall asleep. But when I finally slipped into unconsciousness, dreams filled my mind. I dreamt of Kameron and Victor, Polo and my mother, but Peter was the one who dominated my dreams.
Chapter Twenty-One
Peter
I couldn’t seem to get Alan’s words out of my head. The more I thought about them, the more I realized that he was right. How had I expected her to react? Victor was her brother, after all, and just because his actions were less than noble didn’t mean that Madison didn’t still love him.
I thought about Talen and everything that had happened between us over the years. I remembered our rocky relationship, the harsh conversations, the drunken fights, and the passive aggressive jabs, and I realized that despite all that, I would still never turn my back on him. We were brothers; we had a bond that could never be broken, no matter what he did. Why should I have thought that Madison’s relationship with her brother would be any different?
When John walked into the kitchen that morning, he was surprised to see me sitting at the table with nothing but a cup of strong black coffee in front of me.
“What?” John asked. “No eggs benedict? No salmon quiche? No French toast with maple dripped strawberries? What’s the matter?”
I smiled as John sat down in front of me. “Didn’t feel like cooking this morning.”
John raised his eyebrows and leaned over a little. “Okay, now I’m really worried.”
I laughed distractedly. “Don’t be dramatic; it’s nothing major. I’m just a little preoccupied, that’s all.”
“Would this preoccupation have something to do with Madison maybe?”
“It would,” I nodded, without bothering to deny it.
“You had a fight?”
“Something like that,” I nodded. “What are your plans today?” I wasn’t purposefully trying to change the subject, but I had an ulterior motive in asking and I wanted to put my plan into action as soon as possible.
“I have a few appointments in the morning,” he replied. “But I should be done around four in the evening. I’ll come by so that I can help you with the house.”
“Great,” I replied, without explaining further. “I’ll see you this evening then.”
I got up from the table and headed for the door. I had just left the kitchen when I craned my head back and yelled, “There are some banana pancakes in the fridge if you’re interested.”
“Bless you,” John called back after me.
Smiling, I got into my car and turned the key in the ignition. The whole time, I stared over at Madison’s house, but there was still no sign of her. It was just as well; for this plan to work, I needed an empty house. I drove down to the hardware store and walked in with my mind firmly fixed. I spent a good two hours there, trying to figure out what exactly I needed.
It didn’t help that my mind kept veering constantly between determination and doubt. In my mind, my plan was a goodwill gesture of peace. I thought it would be the perfect way to say I was sorry and make amends.
The problem was I wasn’t entirely sure that Madison would agree. What if she thought I was imposing on her privacy? What if she thought I had crossed a line? What if she thought I was stalking her?
In the end, I shook my head free of the doubts and decided to go ahead despite them. I obviously took so long with my decision that one of the employees came over to ask me if I needed any help.
“Anything in particular you’re looking for?” a young boy wi
th a nametag that read “Alfie” asked me.
“Actually, yes,” I nodded, grateful for the help. “I’m looking for a door.”
“Front door?”
“Exactly,” I nodded. “And it needs to be…special.”
“Special?” Alfie repeated. “Hmm, we have one here that’s nice. It’s darker wood and it actually comes with a door knocker.”
“Umm…seems a little bit…old fashioned,” I said, casting a critical eye over the frame. “I want something retro, but modern.”
Alfie took me down a separate aisle and then he came to a stop in front of another door. “What about this option?”
The door he was pointing at was made of a lighter, grainer wood. It had carved accents around the frame and a youthful, welcoming feel about it. The moment I saw it, I knew it was the perfect door for Madison’s entrance.
“I’ll take it,” I said immediately.
Half an hour later, all my supplies were loaded up into the trunk of my car and the door was strapped firmly to my roof. I drove slowly and managed to get home for lunch. I parked the car in front of Madison’s house and unloaded slowly, making sure not to drop anything. Then I started to remove her front door from its hinges.
Ten minutes later, I was looking into her living room, if you could even call it a living room. It was still completely empty, and I was suddenly gripped with the fear that perhaps she had already left.
I walked inside and took a look around, but there were still signs of Madison all over the place. She had a few personal items in the bathroom, a sleeping bag in one room, and a couple of Polo’s little toys strewn about. The fridge had a few bottles of soda and beer.
As I looked around, it was clear that she was coming back at some point. It was also clear that she had no furniture and either had no intention of getting any, or she simply could not afford to furnish her new home as of yet. Pity wrenched at my conscience and I knew I had to do something about that. A pretty front door was all good and well, but it wouldn’t compare to a nice, warm bed or a place to sit down after a hard day’s work.
The house had a musky smell about it from being closed up for so long. I decided to clean out the insides first, before I moved anything in. It was easy enough to do, considering there was nothing in the house to work around. After that was done, I went back to my place and looked around at my own furniture, thinking about what we needed and what John and I never used.
There was a table by the window that was mostly for show. I grabbed that along with a few rugs that we could spare and took them over to Madison’s place. I set the table in the kitchen and I rolled up the rugs and left them by the front door.
I was pulling the door up to the house when Sam’s car pulled up with John in the passenger seat. The two of them walked over with puzzled expressions on their faces.
“You’re working on the wrong house, dumbass,” Sam said.
“Thanks for the heads up, you dope,” I retorted. “But I’m already aware.”
“Is this your way of making amends for the fight you had with Madison?” John asked.
Sam looked at me with a start. “You had a fight with Madison?”
“Let’s work and talk, shall we?” I suggested.
Sam and John walked over and helped me fit the door in together as I explained to them what had happened between Madison and me.
“Whoa,” Sam said. “You really pulled a gun on her brother?”
“In my defense, I didn’t know it was her brother,” I said. “I thought it was her psycho ex.”
“It might as well have been by the sound of it,” John said. “It’s not like her brother wasn’t acting on his orders.”
“I know,” I nodded. “But all the same, Alan pointed out to me that I probably would have reacted the same way if someone had pulled a gun out on any one of you guys, whether or not you deserved it.”
“Fair point,” John nodded.
“She hasn’t been back in days,” I said. “But I’m certain she will be at some point, and I want her to feel as though this house is her home.”
“That’ll be hard to do without any furniture,” Sam said, popping his head into the house.
“I was hoping you guys would be able to help me out with that,” I said. “Is there any way we could get our hands on some cheap, but usable furniture? I want to buy a few pieces myself, but I don’t think I can swing the lot.”
“You’re going to buy new furniture for Madison?” John asked incredulously.
“Well, yeah,” I nodded. “Not everything, just a few pieces.”
“Wow, you really have it bad for this girl,” he whistled.
“She’s had a hard life,” I said. “And, she’s trying desperately to save herself from a past that’s threatening to bury her. There’s no harm in…giving her a little hope, a little encouragement, is there?”
“Not at all,” John said as Sam patted me hard on the back.
“I think this is all very romantic of you,” Sam said, with a wide smile. “I’m very impressed, actually. I didn’t know you had it in you.”
“Funny,” I said. “Neither did I.”
“I guess you needed to find the right girl,” John said.
“We don’t know if she’s the right girl,” I said quickly. “For me, at least.”
“You wouldn’t be doing all this for the wrong girl,” Sam pointed out.
Stumped, I turned back to the door and made sure it was firmly on its hinges. Then I stepped back and cast a critical eye over it. “How does it look?”
“Pretty great, actually,” John nodded approvingly.
“Awesome,” Sam smiled. “Much better than that piece of shit that used to stand there.”
“Excellent,” I said. “Now we just need to find some viable pieces of furniture.”
“Actually, I might be able to help you out there,” Sam said.
“Really?” I asked hopefully. “How?”
“The station is always filled with these old pieces of furniture that people never use. Some of them are slightly damaged, but most of them are entirely usable. We might need to cut and polish them a little, but a little grunt work and they’ll be good as new.”
“Sam,” I said, grabbing him and placing both my hands on his shoulders. “You are a life saver.” Then I kissed him hard on both cheeks.
“Urgh,” he yelled, as he pushed me away. “Gross.”
I laughed and John joined in as Sam wiped his cheeks like he used to when he was a little boy. We drove over to the station in our separate vehicles and picked out a few pieces of furniture. I was most excited about a single bed with chunky legs. It was old and dusty, but it was in perfect condition. I had no doubt that after the cut and polish, it would look fantastic.
In the end, we managed to scrape together the bed, two deck chairs that could pass as indoor chairs, a table, and a two-seater sofa without the cushions. I stopped by a few stores on my way back and bought a big comfy armchair, sofa cushions, floor mats for the bathroom, and bed linens.
By the end of the night, the house was finished and Sam, John, and I looked around in satisfaction. “Wow,” Sam said. “We did good.”
“Thank you,” I said to both of them. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“Don’t mention it,” John said, patting me on the back. “What are brothers for?”
We walked back to our house, and I made a special meal for them. We gorged ourselves on good food and sat around talking all night until we were too sleepy for conversation. Right before I retired for the night, I glanced out the window at Madison’s house, feeling a sense of satisfaction settle over me.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Madison
Marcy looked at herself nervously in the mirror. She was biting her lip, and I could see her pulling at her fingernails.
“Marcy,” I said, in a bracing voice. “You need to calm down and relax. When I’m done with you, you’re going to be the most stunning girl at this wedding.”
> Marcy sighed deeply. “You should see Ellen,” she said. “She’s beautiful. I mean, I’m talking model-like beauty. She’s practically six feet tall, skinny as hell, gorgeous blue eyes, and blonde hair that practically reaches her butt. There’s no way I can compete with that. I should just…not go.”
I exchanged a glance with Whitney. “You have to go,” I insisted. “You know that and I know that. You just need the confidence.”
“Sadly, that’s the one thing I’m lacking,” Marcy sighed.
Marcy was a cute girl with the kind of personality everyone warmed to instantly. She was petite, with willowy brown hair and dark eyes. But she tended to downplay her natural beauty by dressing as though she were trying to hide the fact that she was a woman.
“First of all, you are beautiful,” I told her. “Okay, maybe you’re not six feet tall, maybe you don’t have blonde hair and blue eyes. But you have gorgeous brown hair and beautiful brown eyes. Some might even describe them as sultry.”
“Sultry?” she repeated in shock.
“Whitney?” I asked, turning for for her opinion.
Whitney looked directly into Marcy’s eyes, gave her a second of deliberation and then nodded confidently. “Definitely sultry,” she agreed, before turning back to her own client.
“See?” I said, turning back to Marcy.
“You should see her.”
“I don’t need to,” I insisted. “She has nothing on you.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Because you are a sweet, lovely, honest person,” I said. “And, she’s the no good, back-stabbing, lying hypocrite of a friend who listened to your deepest, darkest secrets and then stole your boyfriend. You have character, Marcy. All she has is a cheater for a boyfriend who will probably leave her in a couple of years once he realizes how dull she really is underneath all that pretty.”
Marcy sighed. “Okay, I’ll go.”
“Atta girl!” I nodded. “Trust me, he’s going to eat his heart out when he sees you.”
An hour later, I swirled Marcy around in her chair once I had finished doing her makeup. She stared at her reflection with wide eyes and smiled. “Wow, I look good.”