Give and Take
Page 7
As they were talking, Madison realized that she hadn’t even thought about what she would get Mom or Dad for the holidays. She’d been so worried about her ski trip and Mrs. Romano and the Winter Jubilee concert and everything else at school that she’d forgotten to buy gifts.
“What about you, Maddie?” Aimee pressed.
“I want to get them a snow globe,” Madison blurted.
“Huh?” Aimee said, stopping in her tracks. “A what?”
“Did you say snow globe?” Fiona asked.
Madison nodded. “Mrs. Romano, the woman I visit at The Estates, told me this story about this snow globe she has on her dresser. It represents friendship and love and—”
“A snow globe?” Aimee interrupted.
Fiona chuckled as she bent down to the sidewalk to pick up some snow.
“Maddie, I don’t get it,” Aimee said. “You have to get a better present than that.”
“Heads up!” Fiona said, hurling a mini-snowball at Aimee. It exploded on Aimee’s wool coat. The two of them dashed off down the street—armed and wet.
Madison blinked at the gray sky and took a deep, cold breath. She wrapped the orange scarf Mrs. Romano had loaned her tightly around her neck and imagined the snowy days long ago when Mrs. Romano may have worn it herself. Did she have snowball fights back then?
And what was wrong with snow globes, anyway? Madison thought they were romantic. Aimee and Fiona just didn’t get it.
Madison wondered what Mrs. Romano would be doing for the holidays. What would her kids be getting her for Christmas? Nurse Ana said the Romano family hadn’t visited in two years because they lived in Italy or some other faraway place. Madison felt woozy just thinking about that. She couldn’t imagine living so far away from either parent—even if they were both fighting.
When they turned the corner to Fiona’s house, Aimee chased after Fiona to stop there, too.
“Aren’t you walking the rest of the way?” Madison asked her.
Aimee shrugged. “I just have to stop and get this book I left at Fiona’s. I mean, you can wait if you want …”
Madison shook her head. “I have to get home. You know that.”
“So I’ll see you later then, okay?” Aimee said. “E me.
Fiona waved. “See you later, Maddie. Let’s talk later tonight.”
As Madison walked away she felt her stomach flip-flop. Were Aimee and Fiona becoming better friends without Madison? Or was Madison just being paranoid? She had been spending a lot of time away for volunteering. Was that how the switch happened?
Walking along the empty winter sidewalk, Madison realized that understanding her BFFs or her family took a lot of work—especially around the holidays. Would she ever get it? She reknotted the scarf and hurried home to Blueberry Street.
By the time she arrived on her front porch, the snow had either blown away or turned to instant slush. Madison kicked a little off her shoe and went inside. Naturally, Phin rushed to the door.
“Stop panting, Phinnie,” Madison said, trying to calm him down. “I know you’re happy to see me, but—”
“Hi, Maddie,” Mom said, walking into the hallway. “I just got off the phone with Gramma Helen. She sends you her love.”
Madison dropped her orange bag onto the floor, took off her wet shoes, and plopped onto the living room sofa.
“Mom, can we talk?” she asked.
Mom plopped down next to Madison. “Sure, what about?” she said.
“How come you never told me that much about Grampa Max?” Madison asked.
“Oh,” Mom replied. “He was a sweet man.”
“That’s all you remember about him?” Madison said. “That’s so lame, Mom.”
“Okay, let me think. Just before you were born, Grampa Max used to make me things. He built me a rocking chair and footstool. You know the one I have in the bedroom. He painted my name and your father’s name on it. He was going to paint your name, but …”
Mom looked into Madison’s eyes.
“You know the end. He died right before you were born,” she said.
Madison curled into her mom’s side and looked up at her face. “So what happened?” she asked. “When he died, I mean.”
“It was very sad. Max was like a dad to me, too,”
Mom admitted. “I missed him for a long time. We named you Madison in honor of him, with the letter M.”
“Tell me more,” Madison pleaded.
“The main thing about Grampa Max was that he always gave of himself—in his own way. It’s so important to give to people you care about. He knew what to say at all the right moments …” Mom’s voice trailed off. “Unlike your father, who is always—”
“Mom!” Madison yelped. “Why do you have to say that about Dad?”
Mom covered her mouth. “It slipped out. I’m sorry.”
“It’s always slipping out,” Madison said. “Dad isn’t such a bad guy, is he? Why did you marry him if you think that? Why do you always have to tell me things like that?”
“Maddie, don’t worry. I loved him,” Mom said. “You know that. Your father and I can be perfectly civil to one another.”
“Then why have you been fighting for the last few weeks?” Madison asked.
“Fighting?” Mom chuckled.
“Yes, and every time you mention him, you get annoyed,” Madison said.
“We have not been fighting,” Mom said.
Madison rolled her eyes. “Some Christmas,” she muttered under her breath. “What a joke.”
“What did you say?” Mom asked. “Maddie, I really think—”
“Mom, since you say giving is so important, then will you give me something?” Madison asked.
“Of course I will. What is it, honey bear?”
“Will you go to the Winter Jubilee concert—”
Mom interrupted. “Of course I will! You know that!”
“No, no. I wasn’t finished. Will you go to the Winter Jubilee concert—with Dad?” Madison asked. “I already asked him and he said he would have no problem going with you.”
Mom closed her eyes and sighed. “Madison,” she said slowly. “You know that I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” Madison asked, sitting upright. “You just said—”
“Don’t play games, Maddie,” Mom said. “Okay? Maybe your dad and I are not getting along all that great right now, but I don’t wish to force the issue.”
Madison stood up and backed away from Mom. She picked up her bag and turned toward the staircase.
“Madison, come back here,” Mom said. “We didn’t finish talking.”
“Yes we did.” Madison shot Mom a look and went upstairs anyway.
“MADDIE!” Mom shouted. “Come back right now.”
But Madison was already at the top of the stairs with Phin following close behind. She scooped up the dog, scurried into her bedroom, and slammed the door.
Madison pressed an ear to the door, waiting for the sound of Mom’s footsteps. Was she coming up? Madison regretted having mentioned the concert. She’d wanted to ask for days, even when she knew what Mom’s answer would be: NO.
But she still hoped it might be different.
“MADDIE!” Mom’s voice echoed all through the house. “Madison Francesca Finn! I want to talk to you!”
Madison crawled onto her bed with Phin and pretended not to hear.
These holidays were getting less and less cheery by the minute.
Chapter 9
From: Bigwheels
To: MadFinn
Subject: Parents
Date: Thurs 13 Dec 1:14 PM
I’m home sick from school! I have a fever for 3 days and my nose looks like a tomato. Have you been sick at all this winter? I think the flu stinks.
:-~1
So I guess IOU an apology for not writing sooner, especially since it sounds like ur having parental meltdown a little bit. Sorry about that. I know what it’s like, for sure. But it seems so funny for your parents to stil
l be mad at each other when they already got divorced, right?
I think you should stop worrying so much about them. At least you don’t have to listen to them argue anymore. You just hear one side and then the other. That’s a little bit better than eavesdropping on screaming matches. That’s what I listen to sometimes.
Can u ignore them? I mean it is their problem and not yours, right? My head is all stuffed from my cold so maybe my brain is clogged and I can’t come up with the greatest advice. Write back and tell me what happens with the concert. I hope they both do go. It’s the holidays—they have to be there! Good luck.
Yours till the nose blows,
Victoria aka Bigwheels
P.S. That lady at the place ur volunteering sounds so nice. I’m sure she’ll love the concert at least.
Madison was relieved to finally hear back from her keypal. She’d been waiting for days. She hit REPLY immediately.
From: MadFinn
To: Bigwheels
Subject: Re: Parents
Date: Thurs 13 Dec 4:24 PM
I just got home from school and singing practice for the Jubilee concert and I got ur e-msg. THANX SOOOO MUCH. It couldn’t have come @ a better time. My mom was just in my room a minute ago acting all normal and completely forgetting the fact that we had this HUGE fight last night. I didn’t talk to her @ breakfast before school this morning and barely said hello when I came home.
To make life even wackier, my BFFs are acting distant around me these days and I don’t know why. Do you ever feel like friends suddenly like each other better than they like you? Aimee and Fiona are acting like they’re the best buds and I’m the third wheel.
Aren’t the holidays supposed to be the time when everyone is NICER to one another? Not in my universe I guess. BTW: I’ve been so busy that I dunno what is going on with that guy Hart either. Sometimes I get this vibe that he likes me, and then he talks to some other girls. Whatever! I’m off to do my homework!
Hope ur cold gets better soon. Don’t blow it (ha ha).
I will write back with concert news.
Yours till the candy canes,
Maddie
Madison hit SEND and headed for the TweenBlurt.com home page. She noticed that the site had colorful articles posted on holiday crafts and cooking. Maybe there would be an idea for Mom or Dad’s gift on the site? Madison needed to think of something clever—fast.
She could hear Mom talking on the telephone downstairs with someone from work. Was Bigwheels right? Could she just ignore Mom and Dad?
Madison opened her orange bag and took out her blank loose-leaf notebook. She’d scribbled notes to herself earlier that day.
Math pgs. 45 and 92—turn in problem sets!!!
Send e-mail to Gramma Helen.
Get gifts for M & D.
Look up Alzheime’s.
She had every intention of finishing her homework first, but Madison grew distracted by the other items on her list. She opened the TweenBlurt.com search engine and plugged in the word Alzheimer’s. It was hard to spell.
Up popped a list.
1 – 10 of about 9,100,000. Search took 0.13 seconds.
Time to surf.
The first site Madison clicked was the “official” site for the Alzheimer’s Association. Its busy home page directed Madison to a FAQ page. She knew that meant “Frequently Asked Questions.” Exiting that screen, Madison selected a new site … and then another one. Webpages were listed in foreign languages like French and Japanese. The amount of information was overwhelming. Madison was not quite sure what to read first.
Phinnie had nestled his warm little pug body in between Madison’s ankles, his favorite spot to fall asleep while she did her homework each night. Unfortunately, as Madison leaned over to pet him, she hit the POWER button on her computer by mistake.
“Bummer!” she cried, waiting impatiently for the laptop to boot up again. When the screen came up, she logged onto TweenBlurt.com once more.
But before she could go back to the Alzheimer’s search pages, Madison quickly checked to see who else was online.
“Who’s in the fishbowl?” Madison asked Phinnie, who had jumped into her lap. Awkwardly, Madison pressed keys and clicked the button marked “Friends Online.” A few names popped up:
Balletgrl
DantheMan
Suresh00
TheEggMan
Wetwinz
Her keypal wasn’t there, but a bunch of other friends were. Dan, Egg, Suresh, Aimee, and Fiona had all logged into a chat room.
“I can’t believe it! They created a chat room and didn’t invite me again?” Madison said out loud. Instead of leaving Aimee and Fiona alone online like she had the previous time, Madison decided to surprise them. She’d show up in the chat room even if she hadn’t been invited.
Did they know she was there?
She had wanted to be sneaky and stay invisible but the moment Madison entered the chat room her name popped up on the screen—flashing red.
Her BFFs recognized it immediately.
Madison couldn’t understand why they didn’t just include her in their conversation. Why couldn’t they just tell her the truth?
She could feel tears welling up in her eyes, but Madison quickly grabbed a tissue and wiped them. From the moment she had entered the chat room, Madison sensed it was a mistake. Not only had Aimee and Fiona been inside the room alone—but they were there talking about Madison.
Madison shut down the computer and ran downstairs to the living room phone. She needed to talk to someone. Mom was out of the question. Who else could she call?
Egg. He’d snap her out of this.
She grabbed a can of root beer from the refrigerator and planted herself on the sofa. She’d just picked up the phone and was about to dial—when she heard voices. Mom was on the extension.
“Fran, I wish you would just listen to me,” a man said.
Dad.
“Jeff, I have had enough of this. You promised, you broke your promise. Now I think you owe her a little more than an e-mail apology,” the woman said.
Mom.
Madison moved to replace the receiver and get off the phone. From the tone of their voices, the conversation wasn’t going very well. She didn’t want to hear more talk about the ski-trip-gone-bad or school or other subjects that Mom and Dad liked to argue about.
But she didn’t hang up.
For some reason Madison stayed on the phone, holding her breath and listening closer. She was eavesdropping for the second time in one day.
“Enough!” Mom screamed. “I don’t want to have this conversation, Jeff. Not again. As it is, Madison thinks we’re fighting.”
“I know,” Dad said. “She talked to me at dinner
.”
“Oh really! And I suppose you blame me? Do you and your girlfriend have something to say about it?” Mom said.
“Where is this coming from, Effie?” he asked.
Mom sighed into the receiver. “Don’t call me Effie. You haven’t called me that nickname since we split. Look, I really DON’T want to fight, okay?”
“Then what should I do about the vacation?” Dad asked her.
Madison had the urge to sneeze. She bit her lip hard so she wouldn’t give herself away, but there was a pause in the conversation. Had Mom and Dad heard something?
“Hello?” Mom’s voice sounded louder than loud in Madison’s ear. “Hello? Hello? Must be the phone line.”
“There’s no one on this end,” Dad said.
“You realize, Jeff, that this vacation wouldn’t have been a problem if you’d only saved more money.”
“Don’t bring THAT up all over again,” Dad said.
“Why not?” Mom said. “It’s a part of the picture, Jeff.”
Dad sighed. “Francine …”
“And Madison tells me that you think it’s a good idea if we attend this holiday Winter Jubilee concert together…” Mom said. “How could you tell her that and get her hopes up?”
“Why not? She wants us to go. It’s one night for two hours. I think that’s only fair,” Dad replied.
“What do you know about fair?” Mom said. “Canceling that vacation, Jeff—was that fair?”
“Fran, let’s not talk in circles like this,” Dad said. “I said I was sorry. What more do you want from me?”
“How else are you misleading her? Why was Maddie asking about your father the other night? How did the subject of Max come up?” Mom snapped.
“Fran, I won’t talk about this,” Dad said. “Not when you’re angry.”
“Why not, Jeff?” Mom pushed. “I feel like I’m in this alone and—”
“STOP! IT!” Madison screamed into the receiver. She hadn’t meant to say anything. It just flew out.
The phone line went silent.
“Maddie?” Dad’s voice croaked.
“Madison? Are you on the phone?” Mom asked.
“Yes,” Madison said. “And I heard everything.”