by S. E. Brown
When the social worker comes in with the paperwork, what feels like moments after I hear her first cries, I can’t sign it fast enough.
If she’s not here, she doesn’t exist.
The pain in my vagina and my back and my stomach and my heart – it’s all because of something else. Anything but her.
I hear Ellie say something softly, something about baby girl, as she walks away with my daughter.
The tears come then, and they won’t stop.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Madison shook her head as if coming out of a trance.
Where the hell am I?
She had been on her way to the store to pick up something for dinner, but as she looked down at the clock in her car, she realized that had been more than three hours ago.
She had gotten in the car and started to drive, and her body went into complete autopilot.
It was nearly dark now, the sun already past the horizon behind her. Without much effort she could tell where she was. Thirty minutes or so and she’d be in Wilmington. Another fifteen minutes after that, she’d be at the beach.
Rubbing her hand over her face, she felt exhausted. The talk with Issy and reliving all those memories had taken all of her energy. It had been a long time since she’d thought about that time in her life. She’d done everything she could to forget.
Chapter 17
Madison hadn’t expected to end up here. She had planned to go to the store, get something to fix for dinner, and continue the talk with Issy. Instead, she was sitting in her car with the headlights shining on the cottage she had visited with Ellie so many years ago.
She turned off the ignition and grabbed the flashlight she kept in the glove compartment. It was pitch black getting out of the car but she knew her way like she had walked it every day for the last year. Fumbling with her keys, she found the one that would open the front door.
As she pushed the door open, she felt the mail that had been put through the mail slot slide on the floor.
The smell of Ellie’s perfume invaded Madison’s nose and it immediately took her back to the last time she saw her.
“I’m calling for Madison Quinn. This is Rachel, one of the nurses from the hospital in Wilmington. It’s about Ellie. Please call me as soon as you can. Thank you.”
I had left my phone on my desk while I attended a meeting for work and that was the voicemail I listened to when I arrived back at my desk.
The sound of her voice, Rachel’s, makes me nervous. It’s been about a week since I last spoke to Ellie, and I’m curious as to why a nurse is calling. It can’t be good.
“Hello, Rachel? This is Madison Quinn. Is everything okay with Ellie?”
“I’m sorry to tell you this, but I’m afraid she’s very sick. You should get here as soon as possible.”
“I’m about four hours away.”
“Drive quickly.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“I’m looking for a nurse named Rachel. She called me about Elisabeth Hughes. Ellie,” I tell the receptionist when I finally arrive at the hospital.
“One moment.”
The receptionist dials a few numbers and quickly lets the person on the other end know I am waiting.
“Rachel will be here in just a moment.”
I nod a thank you and pace the floor. After what feels like several long minutes, a woman who appears to be in her mid-forties wearing scrubs with cartoon characters on them walks up to me.
“Madison?”
“Yes. Where’s Ellie?” I’ve had four hours of drive time to think of every possible scenario. None of them were good.
“I’ll take you to see her now.” Her voice is soft and understanding. As much as I want it to make me feel better, it doesn’t.
We walk down one corridor in silence then turn down another.
“From what Ellie has told me, you are unaware of her condition. Is that correct?”
“Condition? What condition? She never said anything was wrong.”
Rachel sighs. “That’s what I was afraid of. Ellie has been sick for about a year. Early this morning she had a heart attack.”
“I don’t under … a heart attack?”
When we approach a closed door with Ellie’s name on it, Rachel stops and turns to me.
“A few months ago, Ellie signed paperwork indicating she wanted no heroic measures taken if something should happen.”
“What … no heroic …” I try to ask.
“We’ve been keeping her as comfortable as we can, but she’s fading fast. We think, maybe, she’s waiting for you.”
Four hours ago I was sitting in a meeting, bored to tears, doodling on my notepad while I waited for the other attendees to finish hearing themselves talk. Now, here I am, about to see Ellie for what, the last time? Ever?
I walk into the room not sure what to expect. Ellie is laying on the bed, her eyes are closed and her skin is pale. Wires connected to the machines next to her bed create a sporadic design on her body. Tears fill my eyes as I think about her, how full of life and love she has been. How she took me in and loved me when no one else wanted me.
“Can she hear me?” I ask Rachel, unaware if she had entered the room.
“We believe so, yes.”
One of the machines in the room starts to beep, making me jump. Rachel walks to the other side of the room and presses a button that makes the horrific sound stop.
When she turns toward me, there is a deep sadness in her eyes. “It’s time, Madison. You’re going to want to hold her hand now.”
I look to Rachel, my eyes questioning. Time?
This can’t be happening.
Rachel looks back at me and I see tears filling her eyes.
I lower myself into the chair next to the bed and gently take Ellie’s hand in mine. Her hand is soft and warm as I gently wrap my fingers around it. I watch the rise and fall of her chest as I think of what to say.
In this moment, it doesn’t matter that I didn’t know she was sick, that she never told me. If this is the last time I get to see her, to talk to her, there is only one thing to say.
“I love you, Ellie. Thank you,” my lips tremble. “Thank you for loving me.”
I rest my head on our hands and listen to her breathe. She takes two more shallow breaths and exhales, and then there is silence.
It’s as though the air has been sucked out of the room.
I look up to see her face has relaxed. She looks like she has found peace.
Rachel begins turning off the machines. I glance at her and then to Ellie, raising her hand to my lips. I softly kiss her and whisper, “I love you,” one last time.
When Rachel turns around, I am gone.
Madison still didn’t understand why Ellie never told her she was sick. If she had known, she could have been there. She could have helped her, like Ellie had done for her.
The electricity to the cottage had been shut off so she turned on the flashlight and used it to guide her way to the room she used to sleep in.
She peeled back the plastic covering the bed and laid down. Too tired to care about the dust, or even critters that could have taken up residence in the cottage, Madison laid her head on the pillow and quickly fell asleep.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Declan: Hey babe, you still up for dinner? Maybe watching a movie?
When he didn’t hear from Madison after an hour or so, Declan called her, but it went to voicemail.
“Hey Madison, it’s Declan. I wanted to check about dinner tonight. Give me a call.”
When the sun started to go down and he began to feel hungry, he called her again. And again, it went to voicemail.
“Hey, it’s me again. You’re making me worry. Call me back, okay?”
Madison typically responded to texts within minutes, seconds, sometimes, so her not responding after three messages was incredibly unusual.
Before his worry could get the better of him, he got into his car and drove to her house. What he hadn’t expected to see was Issy’
s car parked outside.
Reaching the door, he rang the doorbell and waited impatiently. He was taken aback when Issy greeted him.
“Hey, Declan.” She had woken up just a minute before the doorbell went off.
“Hey. Is Madison here?” He pushed his way through the door as he asked the question.
“No. It looks like she ran to the store.” She handed him the note Madison had written.
Declan read it then looked at Issy questioningly.
“I guess I fell asleep. When I woke up, the note was here and she was gone.”
Declan nodded.
Why in the hell is she sleeping here?
“Issy, I don’t mean to be rude, but what are you doing here?”
Declan trusted Madison and Issy, but neither had ever mentioned anything about them spending time together. It seemed weird, her being at Madison’s house.
Issy wasn’t entirely sure what to tell him. Madison said only a couple people knew about the baby and she didn’t know if that included Declan or not.
“Issy …” Declan prodded when he saw her face contort like she was trying to decide what to tell him.
Sighing, she just spit it out. “Declan, Madison is my mom.”
“Umm … what?” he stammered as he took a seat on the couch.
“Shit,” she sighed. “I guess she didn’t tell you.”
“No,” he answered, shaking his head in disbelief. “I thought your parents were Tom and Hannah. You have brothers,” Declan said, but it came out more like a question.
“You’re right. They are my family.”
“I don’t understand …”
“I was adopted. Madison is my biological mother.”
In all the time they’d spent together, Madison never said a word. Never uttered a clue that she had a daughter – or that Issy was her daughter.
“Why didn’t she tell me?” he muttered under his breath.
“I don’t think she knew.”
“What? How does that make sense?” Declan was even more confused now.
Issy took in a deep breath and exhaled. She wasn’t sure it was her place to tell Declan all of this, but it was partially her story, too. She sat down beside him.
“Of course she knew she gave up her baby for adoption. She just didn’t know that baby was me until I came over this afternoon.”
“How’d you find out?”
“Her tattoo.” Issy reached for the drawing that lay on the table. “Ellie gave this to the social worker to give to my parents. She wanted me to have something from my biological parents if I was ever told I was adopted.”
Declan looked at the sketch that was the spitting image of the tattoo he had run his fingers over just a couple nights before. When he’d asked Madison about it, she’d blown it off, saying something about a favorite childhood book. But now, as he looked at it, he saw a name blended into the design.
“Elisabeth?” he asked.
Issy nodded. “Elisabeth. Ellie. She said it’s the name she would have given me if she’d kept me.”
Declan looked at Issy, still in disbelief. Quickly, he started doing the math in his head.
Issy has to be what, nineteen? Twenty? And Madison is thirty-six … she had her when she was sixteen?
“I saw her tattoo when I was in the locker room this morning. I wasn’t positive about what I saw, but when I went home and looked at the drawing from Ellie, I knew. Madison is my biological mom.”
Declan was trying to take it all in. The woman he was falling for, the woman he could see himself falling in love with, never mentioned she had given birth to a child. He couldn’t even begin to comprehend being in a position where giving away your child was the best option available.
He tried to picture what would have happened if he had gotten someone pregnant while still in high school. What would he have done? What would his parents have said? Without a doubt, he knew his family would have rallied behind him and supported him and the baby, and likely the mother, too. There would never have been a question.
But Madison didn’t grow up in that environment, with that love.
“So that was why they kicked her out,” he said, seemingly out of nowhere.
Issy nodded.
“And why she went to live with Ellie.”
Issy nodded again.
They remained quiet for several minutes.
“You said she went to the store?”
“Yeh. That’s what the note said.”
“How long ago?”
“I’m not sure. I think I slept for a couple hours. I woke up just before you rang the doorbell.”
Declan reached for his phone and sent another text to Madison.
Declan: I’m at your house with Issy. Please let us know you’re okay.
They heard a buzz and looked for the source. It was coming from Madison’s phone, which was stuck between the cushion and side of the chair.
“Well, I guess that’s why she never answered me.” Declan picked up the phone and saw his missed calls and text messages on the screen.
He got up and started pacing the room. “Should we go look for her?”
“Where?”
“I don’t know,” he sighed.
“Maybe she just needs some time. I kind of dropped a bomb on her today.” She looked at the table and saw the return address on the envelope. Handing it to Declan, she offered, “She may have gone here. That’s the address for Ellie’s cottage.”
Declan looked at her again, unsure what to do. He didn’t like it, but he didn’t know Madison well enough to guess how she would react to news like this. He could only imagine how he would feel – maybe time and space would be a good thing.
“How about this: we give her until the morning to contact one of us. Maybe you’re right. Maybe she just needs some time. But if we haven’t heard from her by daylight, we go to this address, okay?”
Issy nodded. “Okay.”
“I’m gonna sleep here tonight, on the couch, just in case she comes home. That alright with you?”
Issy responded with, “Sure,” just as her stomach rumbled. “Think we could order some pizza?”
“Pizza would be great.”
Chapter 18
The curtains that hung over the windows did little to shield the sun from beating inside. Madison slowly opened her eyes and had to squint or be blinded.
It took her a moment to realize where she was. The smell was familiar, albeit musty.
Ellie.
Slowly, she rolled from the bed and made her way to the bathroom. It was weird seeing Ellie’s things – her shampoos, lotions and soaps. Bottles of aspirin and other medications she had been taking. Madison read the labels and could no more understand what they were for as she could pronounce them.
It had been years since she’d been inside the cottage. Ellie left it to her in the will she’d written, but Madison couldn’t bring herself to visit, even to clean it so it could be sold. Instead she hired a management company to deal with the utilities, and a neighbor who had since moved away covered the furniture in plastic. Everything else was exactly as it was the last time Ellie was here.
She left the bathroom and returned to her room to put her shoes on. There was so much dust she could see her footprints on the floor.
As she reached the living room, she stopped to take it all in.
Ellie always called this place the cottage, but it really was a house. It was smaller than where they lived in Charlotte, but it had everything she needed – electricity, running water, cable. Ellie had made it her own. Actually, Ellie had made it a home.
The pictures of seashells and lighthouses she and Ellie had hung still peppered the walls. Plastic covered the beige couch and chair that still had the blue throw blankets laying on them they had looked high and low for. The fireplace still had wood in it.
She walked across the room, past the breakfast nook, to the bay window and sat on the cushion looking out to the beach. Madison had spent hours upon hours sitting in t
his very spot as she drew pictures of the water and sand. They came here often while Madison was still in high school, but she tended to stay in the city once she started college. Ellie had moved here permanently once Madison graduated.
Turning to look back into the cottage, the sunlight coming through the windows made the dust particles she had disturbed light up like a Christmas tree.
Everything looked so familiar, but it was different, too.
Her eyes went to the corner where a vase sat on a table. The floor beneath it was littered with dust covered tulip petals that had died and fallen off the stem.
It’s one of the most beautiful days I’ve ever seen. It’s mid-spring and there isn’t a cloud in the sky. Not one. The sun is shining down its warmth and every once in a while a breeze will blow just enough to move the curls of my hair. The soft sounds of a wind chime from a nearby house twinkle in the air.
The ceremony is grave-side in a cemetery not far from the cottage. When I close my eyes, I can hear the faint sound of waves crashing into the shore. It seems appropriate that Ellie would spend her eternity somewhere she can hear the water. It was one of her absolute favorite things.
Ellie married the love of her life when she was just eighteen. They had fourteen incredible years together, as she told the story, before he passed away. They never had any children, and Ellie never re-married. She said she was still married and she always would be. Her husband, although he was gone, still owned her heart. There wasn’t room for another.
During our time together, I like to think I became the daughter Ellie always wanted. She nurtured and cared for me, the way she would have her own blood. Most importantly, she loved me with all her heart. She showed me that love every day I was with her, and today was no exception.
Knowing the illness would take her life, Ellie made all the arrangements. I know she did it so I wouldn’t have to. She knew planning her funeral would be one of the hardest things I’d ever have to do. Even in her death she made sure I would be okay.