by Laura Dower
I told Dad all about the election Web site and stuff. He sounded really excited, so we’ll probably spend all of our reunion dinner talking about that. I like these dinners because it’s our special time just him and me. Oh, and Dad says he has a big surprise for me. I love surprises.
At 6:28 on the dot. Dad pulled into the Gillespies’ driveway.
Dad had said he would show up at Aimee’s at six o’clock to pick Madison up. Madison knew that really meant he’d be there at 6:30, of course, but she didn’t mind. He was always late.
Madison smoothed out her peasant skirt (she had borrowed it from Aimee, and it was a little snug, but so pretty), checked her hair in the mirror (she wore it down tonight with her sapphire-blue barrettes), adjusted her favorite moonstone earrings (the same ones Dad gave to her when school first started), and smelled her armpits, of course. She always did that just to make sure she wasn’t sweating too much. It was a gross thing to do, but it was way less gross than being a stink bomb in the middle of dinner. Luckily, even though it was humid tonight, Madison smelled like Lovely Ylang-Ylang. She’d borrowed some of Aimee’s all-natural perfume.
“’Bye,” Aimee yelled out as Madison walked down the porch steps. “You look great! Nice skirt.”
“Ha ha!” Madison joked back. But she really did feel great.
For the first time in a few days, she felt like she was finally going to get some of her own family TLC. She needed some of that.
Dad was always so sweet, and she needed sweet. And he said that he had a surprise. Maybe he had another present? Madison couldn’t believe she’d expect that, but the thought whizzed through her mind. The only benefit to Mom and Dad being away a lot was the fact that they sometimes got her cool stuff. As soon as she thought that, Madison felt guilty. What was she doing thinking about “stuff”? She told herself that she shouldn’t—
Stop over-thinking, a voice echoed in her head. Voice of Dad, of course.
“Well, don’t you look lovely,” Dad said in person a moment later. He opened his arms to give Maddie a great big squeeze as she approached his car. It was really dark because the side lawn light was broken, but Dad still noticed what she was wearing. He always noticed.
“Isn’t that a nice skirt,” he said. “Mmm, you smell lovely, too.”
“Lovely Ylang-Ylang, actually.” Madison smiled.
“What?” He laughed. “Wang wang?”
“Eelang-eelang, Daddy! Like the letter L.”
“Oh.”
From inside the front seat of the car a strange voice said, “Ylang-ylang is an essential oil, Jeffrey.”
Madison stopped in her tracks. Her stomach did a GIANT flip-flop.
“Uh, hello? Do I know you?”
“No, but I have heard so much about you.” A woman opened the door and stepped into the half-light in the driveway.
Madison turned to her dad and then turned to the woman.
“I haven’t heard anything about you.” Madison looked right at her father. “Daddy?”
“Madison, meet Stephanie,” he said suddenly, clapping his hands together. “She’s going to be joining us for dinner. Isn’t that great?”
“Great? Um … Daddy?”
The woman stuck out her hand. “I’m Stephanie Wolfe,” she said. “I’m a friend of your father. It’s so nice to meet you. As I said, I’ve heard—”
“What’s nice about it? I didn’t know you were coming.” Madison abruptly opened the back door, slid inside, and pulled it shut.
From where she was sitting inside the car she could just make out the figures of Dad and Stephanie talking in the shadows. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they were talking very fast.
Madison smoothed out her skirt again. It was hot inside that car. Her legs itched. Madison smelled her armpits again just in case. Nothing but ylang-ylang.
How could Dad have forgotten to tell her he was bringing someone to dinner … to their special reunion dinner? How could Dad be with another woman besides Mom? Was this his idea of a surprise?
Madison hated surprises.
Stephanie got into the front seat again. Madison could smell her hair spray. Madison hadn’t been shoved into the backseat of this car since she and Mom and Dad took Phin to the vet more than a year ago. She always rode shotgun. Always.
A droplet of sweat ran down the back of Madison’s neck.
“So your dad tells me that you’re a real computer whiz, is that true?” Stephanie said in the half-darkness, turning her head to catch Madison’s eye.
Madison avoided all eye contact.
Stephanie paused. “Look, Maddie, I know you’re surprised by my being here. And I don’t feel all that comfortable either, Maddie, to tell you the truth—”
“Steph!” Dad said, a little surprised.
“But, Maddie, let’s try to make the best of it? I could leave if that would—”
“Then leave,” Madison cut her off. “Leave. And stop calling me Maddie. No one calls me Maddie except people who are my friends. I don’t even know you.”
“Now, wait just a minute!” Dad yelled. “Do you have any manners, young lady? I want you to apolo—”
“Jeff, lookout!”
Dad swerved to miss hitting a cat in the middle of the road.
“Stupid animal!” Dad barked.
Madison spoke up from the backseat. “Animals are NOT stupid.”
Dad sighed, exasperated. Even from where she was crouched into the backseat, Madison could see Stephanie put her hand on Dad’s knee. She just wanted to turn around and go right back to the Gillespies.
No sooner had they parked the car than Madison jumped ten paces ahead, rushing across the parking lot, taking two steps at a time up to the restaurant lobby, praying that Le Poisson would be air-conditioned. Of course it was nice and cold inside. Nice and ice cold.
Be careful what you wish for, Madison mused, shivering.
The maitre d’ sat the threesome at a table near a giant fish tank. Madison was grateful. Fish could focus her away from Stephanie. She named a yellow-finned one Phin 2 in her mind and watched him swim behind a fake treasure chest to hide out. Madison wished she could hide out. It was like being in the real-life version of the fishbowl on TweenBlurt.com.
Glub, glub.
When the waiter came to take their drink order, Madison asked for root beer, her favorite drink on the planet.
“No root beere,” he said. “This eez French restaurahn.”
“No root beer? Then I’d like … a cream soda?”
“No creamy soda,” he said, shaking his head.
“Ginger ale?” He nodded. Finally.
“One, please.”
The waiter smiled as Stephanie ordered a wine spritzer on the rocks and Dad got his usual seltzer with lime.
All the Frenchy French waiters and the French words on the menu reminded Madison of one thing.
“You know, my Mom’s in France,” Madison said, staring right at Stephanie. “She’s a really, really important film producer and she’s making a documentary there. Right now she’s scouting locations.”
“Oh, really?” Stephanie pretended to be nice. “That sounds interesting.”
“She’s really, really important. Did I mention that?”
“Yes, you did. You did mention that,” Stephanie said. For the first time, Madison noticed that Stephanie was actually kind of pretty. How annoying. Madison searched Stephanie’s face for moles and wrinkles.
“Maddie,” Dad started to say when it seemed like things had calmed down a little bit, “I really am sorry that I didn’t tell you first about—”
“Whatever, Dad. No biggie, right?” Madison shrugged.
Dad was fumbling to speak, but Madison wouldn’t even let him finish a sentence. She told them both about the election Web site start-up, Mrs. Wing, and how Aimee was running for class president.
Stephanie acted interested. “Is that glitter nail polish you’re wearing?” she asked Madison.
Madison frowne
d. “Yeah, but I ate most of it off.” She saw that Stephanie had perfectly manicured pink nails.
“This dinner is turning out just great,” Dad said. “And here I thought—” He laughed and grabbed a sesame roll out of the bread basket on the table, mumbling to himself a little.
That’s when Madison caught Stephanie putting her hand on Dad’s knee again. At least that’s what it seemed like. They were sitting very close. Too close.
But Madison knew what to do.
When dinner was served, Madison watched and waited until Stephanie was ready to take the first big bite of her fish dinner.
That’s when Madison said, “Um, Dad, did I tell you about Phin?”
Dad was laughing nervously at everything by now. “No, honey bear, what about him?”
“Well.” Madison stared right at Stephanie as she started the story. “It’s just that Phin has that stomach thing again, you know the bad sick thing where he can’t stop pooping.”
Stephanie made a disgusted face.
“Maddie!” Dad said, but Madison kept right on talking.
“Yeah, it’s really gross. It was all over the carpet this morning and he just makes this awful noise when he’s doing it and it smells and—”
“Madison!” Dad said again, a little louder.
Stephanie gulped and put down her fork.
“Oh!” Madison covered her mouth. “I’m sorry, Stephanie, were you eating?”
As Stephanie took a sip of water, Madison took a huge bite of her own dinner. Her “Le Poisson” hamburger was well done, just the way she liked it.
Dad
There are not enough words in the entire Webster’s Dictionary to explain what I am feeling right now but I would have to say that CRUSHED is it. I came home right after dinner and I feel disgusting. How could Dad have done that to me? I was so freaked out during dinner I ordered eight ginger ales and drank every single one! I had to pee the whole time. And I don’t even like ginger ale. How could we go to a restaurant that doesn’t serve root beer?
Now I really wish Mom were home. I wish I could call France. I wish I had a brother or sister to share this with. Aimee is downstairs right now watching the end of some movie with Roger and I just can’t go in the TV room all sad and depressed and make this scene and call attention to myself. I just can’t. I hate Daddy for this. No, I hate Stephanie more. Now I hate this feeling of hating people!
Madison closed the file and opened a web browser.
She needed to chat—NOW.
In the TweenBlurt.com main lobby, or “fish tank” area, Madison searched the room lists and eavesdropped on a few rooms. Where was Bigwheels? She needed Bigwheels in a big way—NOW.
SHARK (Moderator)
GottaWIN
2good2be2
TellMeAStORY
StingRAyZ
Intoredgiant
Screammeem
JimD71068
URPrincess
NvrSAYNvr
ZombieLuv
654aqua
MadFinn has entered the room.
<654aqua>: heymeem, GAL
It’s kool
Intoredgiant has left the room.
gonefishin has entered the room.
URPrincess has left the room.
doggydave has entered the room.
Bigwheels must have been asleep or something even though it was only dinnertime where she was. Maybe she was doing her homework?
She definitely wasn’t in this chat room. She wasn’t even online.
Madison checked her e-mail just in case.
Mailbox Empty
As soon as she saw the word “empty,” the heaviness in her ribs pushed up into her throat. It was like nausea, only she knew she wasn’t sick. Madison shut down the computer, shut off the light, and buried her face into one of Aimee’s pillows. She hated crying in a strange place.
After ten seconds, her nose was running and she was drooling, too. Madison always drooled when she cried. Phinnie heard her and jumped onto the bed too. He was licking the salty tears off her face and wiggling his curlicue tail.
Dogs always can tell when people are really sad. Madison was glad that Phinnie was around. Blossom was at the bottom of the bed the whole time, jumping, but basset hounds aren’t so good at getting onto high places.
“Maddie?” The light clicked on all of a sudden and Aimee rushed over to the bed. “Maddie, I heard you … what happened? Are you okay?”
Madison sniffled but no words would come out. She tried to catch her breath in between hiccups and tears. She was crying hard by now.
“Aimee?” Mrs. Gillespie walked into the room next. “Is everything all right in here? I heard—”
Aimee shrugged. “Maddie’s all bummed out. Her Dad brought a date to dinner and she didn’t know about it and—”
“I—was—so—up—set—”
Madison coughed each syllable and Aimee’s mother sat down on the edge of the bed and rubbed her back. “Take a deep breath, Maddie. You’ll be okay, dear. I know it’s got to be hard. All this change.”
Madison gasped and sniffled and choked on her own words.
“Change—Steph—stink—Dad—”
She wasn’t making any sense.
Mrs. Gillespie ran a cool hand across Madison’s neck to get her to stop crying. Her hands were as soft as the satin edge of a blanket. “Maddie,” she asked, “Should we call your mom?”
Madison wiped her eyes and blinked. “In Paris?”
“I think we should.” Mrs. Gillespie pulled a few strands of hair out of Maddie’s wet eyes. “I know your mom would want to be right here, right now, giving you a hug and telling you everything is okay. You should call her.”
Madison sniffled. “You mean it?”
“Yes, let’s call her. Right now.”
Madison’s could feel her heartbeat quicken at the prospect of hearing Mom’s voice. Together, Mrs. Gillespie, Aimee, and Madison dialed the international operator and called Mom all the way over in France. It was 5:30 in the morning, but Madison didn’t care about waking Mom up.
Madison Finn was caught between a dad and a date and all she needed was to know that her Mom was there, somewhere. She needed to know she wasn’t crazy for feeling all knotted up inside. That everything with Dad and Ivy and school and elections would all work out. That feeling like a baby was an okay way to feel right now.
Sometimes only a mom can tell you things so you believe them.
Chapter 7
From: MadFinn
To: ff_BudgeFilms
PRIORITY MAIL
Subject: Last Night
Date: Thurs 14 Sept 7:19 AM
Mom I am so sorry I woke you up. But I slept so well after we got off the phone. I didn’t realize I missed you so much. Is that weird? I mean, last night I was just so sad. And it wasn’t Dad’s fault. I don’t want to make it sound like he’s bad, because I know you think that sometimes. No, it was just everything happening all at the same time.
Phinnie
slept under the blankets with me for a little while, too, just like you said. Until he got hot and started snoring like he does. Oh well. Now Aimee’s bed smells like dog.
Thanks again Mom. I am really sorry again for getting you up to the phone at like 4 your time or whenever it was. I know you are busy and that the movie is important too.
By the way, Dad called this morning first thing to check on me. He says no more surprise dinners so that’s a good thing, right?
Please come home soon.
Love, me :>)
AFTER ALL THE EXCITEMENT of yesterday, Madison made like a zombie and zoned out through her morning classes. She didn’t come out of her trance until noon, when she, Drew, Egg, and Mrs. Wing spent lunch period huddled over a computer monitor inside the tech lab, checking out the day’s progress on the Far Hills site. Despite her anxiety from yesterday, it felt good to Madison to be working on the election Web pages again with the boys. Plus, serious computer work got Madison’s mind off any and all “bad” subjects: last night’s dinner with Dad and Stephanie; Hart calling her Finnster (four times so far that week); and Poison Ivy, of course.
The home page was looking good.
WELCOME TO FAR HILLS JUNIOR HIGH
1753 Far Hills Avenue
Far Hills, New York
School Principal: Mr. Joe Bernard
Assistant Principal: Mrs. Bonnie Goode
Web page designed and created by FH Faculty and Students
Elections coordinator: Madison Finn
Data entry: Drew Maxwell
Online programs: Walter Diaz
Student adviser: Mrs. Isabel Wing
Note: Please adjust your screen to 640x480 full window for optimal viewing.
The Web page layout was a basic model, devoted to helping direct students to the polling areas, but Madison knew it had big possibilities. She hoped that the school Web site could change the way everything was done and how everyone communicated at school. She had the entire Web site menu mapped out in her imagination.
Homepage
Schedules
Assignments & Calendars
Clubs & Organizations