The Madison Jennings Series Box Set

by Kiara Ashanti

  It was time to break the silence.

  “You’re mighty proud of yourself, aren’t you?”

  Maddie stopped picking at the nonexistent dirt under her nails and looked up. “I don’t know what you mean, Miss Croft.”

  To most of her colleagues, the “Miss” instead of “Doctor” would have been an insult. Dr. Croft did not take the bait, but her lip did curl upward—a bit. “Sure you do. In fact, I think you rather enjoyed yourself today.”

  “You mean wailing on an asshat. Yeah, that didn’t suck.”

  “It may have sucked if you got expelled.”

  Maddie shrugged. “No biggie.”

  “Oh, I get it,” said Dr. Croft. “This was just an attempt to get out of going to public high school and having a normal teenage girl life. I see.” Maddie didn’t respond, but a slight shift in her chair gave her away. “That makes things easier then. I can just let your mother know you picked a fight so you wouldn’t have to go to high school.”

  Maddie jumped to her feet. “I didn’t pick a fight. Someone had to stop him.”

  “Yes, someone like a teacher or an adult.”

  “There wasn’t one around!”

  Dr. Croft leaned forward. “And you know this because you looked, is that correct? You tried to find a teacher?”

  Maddie slammed herself back down onto her seat but remained silent. Dr. Croft leaned back in her chair and sent a lopsided smirk in Maddie’s direction.

  “What’re you smiling at?” asked Maddie.

  “At how every teenager I’ve ever seen thinks they are so different, but you all do the same thing.” Dr. Croft raised her hands and started counting off points with her fingers. “You all try sullen silence. You then move to wisecracking nonchalantness and follow that with a pouty bratty attitude, all to obfuscate the real problem.”

  “Ob-fu what?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. That’s a word people who don’t get kicked out of school for fighting learn how to use.”

  Maddie rolled her eyes. “Save the jokes for the professionals, doc.”

  Dr. Croft nodded, then reached for a thick file on her desk. She opened it, grabbed a pen, and mimed making a notation. “Well, at least you’ve finally conceded I’m a doctor. It looks like we’re making progress.” She glanced up from the file to see Maddie losing a battle to refrain from grinning.

  “Madelynne, your mother has sacrificed a lot to make sure you have a normal childhood.” Lightning fast, Maddie’s reluctant smile vanished like a deer in the woods—as Dr. Croft suspected it would.

  “I’m not a child, and it’s not about being normal. Someone had to do something.”

  “And that someone is you?”

  “Why not me?” The words were tinged with a challenge and delivered with a rock-steady gaze. “Oh right, I should have wasted time running to a teacher about something they didn’t know, right? You think it was the first time? You think that little kid has not said anything? That teachers don’t know? They knew and didn’t do anything. I did, and I’d do it again.”

  “Is that what you think Zavier would have done?”

  Maddie broke eye contact, as she always did when Zavier came up. “He wouldn’t have walked away. That’s not who he was.”

  Dr. Croft considered Maddie for a moment, then broke protocol. She got up and moved over to sit next to Maddie. “Madelynne, Zavier Hunter did not walk away because he cared for you a great deal.”

  “No. You don’t understand. You’ve spent years trying to get inside my head, and you still don’t get it. Do you think Uncle Z would have just ran out the theater if I had been sitting in my seat instead of cowering in the bathroom? No! He would have gotten my mom and me out of the theater and gone back inside to stop those men. My Uncle Z was a brave man.”

  “Hmm, cowering? That’s an interesting choice of words there. Not hiding, but cowering. Like what? Like a coward? Is that what you think you were, Maddie?”

  “I thought ‘doctors’ were supposed to be smart. I was eight years old. What the heck could I have done?”

  “But you can do something now. Is that it? You don’t have to cower anymore. You’re a target pistol champion, black belt badass, and backwoods tomboy who can take action—even if it’s not her place to do so.”

  Maddie did not flinch from the accusation. Instead, the gleam of challenge swirled with pride glowed brightly in her eyes. It told Dr. Croft all she needed to know about this and, she had no doubt, future incidents to come. Most patients needed to share but felt compelled to hide or avoid their therapist from knowing too much. Maddie did not seem to care, and that concerned Dr. Croft.

  “Madelynne, in your life you will meet all kinds of bullies—people who get off by pushing other people around. You cannot fight them all—not physically. You must learn how to process things in a different manner. You’re in high school, not a movie theater overrun by terrorists.”

  “You might change that tune if you saw the cheerleaders running around that school.”

  Dr. Croft considered the statement. “Hmm, fair point on that. Cheerleader mobs have always been terrifying, sort of like clowns. Nonetheless, that boy in school is not a terrorist.”

  “The kid he was picking on sounded pretty terrorized to me.”

  Dr. Croft steepled her fingers as she considered Maddie’s words for a moment, then she moved back over to her chair. “OK, Madelynne, that will be all for today. Send in your parents, please.”

  The abrupt change made Maddie sit back in surprise. Suspicion filled her eyes, but she got up and moved to the office door. She stopped before opening it and looked back at Dr. Croft. She was busy writing in her thick file, giving Maddie no further attention. Maddie turned around and left the office. A moment later, Tina and Derek Jennings walked in.

  “Have a seat, please.”

  The two parents gave each other a look but sat down.

  “I think we have reached a crossroads . . . perhaps even an impasse. I think it’s time for sessions with Madelynne to stop.”

  Tina was flabbergasted. “What . . . what do you mean? My daughter—after years locked away getting homeschooled, starts high school, gets into a fight on her first day, and you think it’s time to stop counseling her! I don’t understand. You’ve changed your practice location three times to keep seeing her. You set up Internet chats with her when we lived outside of the country. What the hell?”

  Derek placed a calming hand on his wife’s leg. “Tina, honey, calm down.”

  Tina shoved his hand aside. “Don’t tell me to calm down. You know I hate that.”

  “I’m just saying let her explain. I assume there is a reason for this. Right, Dr. Croft?”

  “Dammit, Derek. Our daughter is fighting in school like a common thug, and you’re acting like it’s no big deal. You coddle her too much.”

  “Hey! Kids get into fights all the time.”

  “No! Boys. Boys get into fights. Not little girls. Not my little girl.”

  Dr. Croft had let the little tête-à-tête flow to confirm her decision—and it had with resounding clarity. “Actually, you’re both right.” Astonishment in response to the pronouncement ceased any further bickering between the two.

  “Derek, you do coddle . . . no, that’s not the right word. Indulge is a better term. You indulge your daughter too much and too often.” She held out her hand to forestall the protest she saw brewing in his eyes. “It’s not a criticism; it’s an observation. You have indulged her in much the same way Zavier Hunter did. Accept that you did it. In fact, you both did it. Derek indulged, and Tina, you allowed it. Allowing it is the flip side of indulgence and is called enabling. Derek did it to help Madelynne deal with the trauma.” She focused her attention on Tina. “Tina, kids do get into fights. They get into trouble. Boys and girls. You keep trying to keep Madelynne a normal little girl.”

  “And that’s a problem?” snapped Tina.

  “When everything you’ve done to accomplish that is not normal, yes.” Again, Dr. Cr
oft held her hand out. “No, let me finish, Tina. Consider what you have done, have sacrificed. You’ve changed your names—more than once. You moved out of the country and lived in several states, all in an attempt to keep Madelynne and her story out of the press and national dialogue. Even if the event had not happened, any one of those things would not create a normal daughter in the way that you mean or want. Most important, however, is that Madelynne does not want to be normal. Truth is, she stopped being normal the moment someone she loved gave up his life for hers. In her mind, she is not allowed to be normal. A major obstacle for you is that you will not accept that reality.” She let the words sink in before she continued.

  “The reason I’m stopping sessions with her is that it is now time to focus on both of you.”

  “What!” exclaimed Tina and Derek.

  “Look, your daughter couldn’t care less about what happened today or even the possible consequences. Inside, she is positively giddy with self-important pride. She saw someone who needed help, and she was going to give it. I doubt it will be the last time. Helping others, protecting others, call it what you will, is a cornerstone of her personality now. It’s not going to change. So, the best use of my time, at this juncture, is working with you, Derek, to learn how to stop indulging, and with you, Tina, on accepting who your daughter is and then by showing you how to steer her in more positive ways of being the type of person I suspect she has been ‘training’ to be for the last six years.”

  They sat in silence in the face of Dr. Croft’s words. Finally, Derek spoke.

  “Training? What do you mean by training?”

  “Derek . . .,” Dr. Croft began, impatience bleeding into her tone. “Madelynne is up every morning exercising and running like a military recruit. She cried, begged, and guilt-tripped you both into letting her take kickboxing and tae kwon do. How many guns can she shoot and how many books on firearms does she have?”

  “Oh come on. Millions of kids take self-defense classes. It’s practically an after-school program these days. And she’s always liked guns. Damn tomboy,” said Derek.

  “I’m gonna have to agree with my husband on this one, Dr. Croft. Zavier had her on the way to being Annie Oakley long before he was killed.”

  Dr. Croft shook her head. “That’s rationalization fueled by indulgence. As I remember, your daughter practices disassembling and reassembling an automatic gun while blindfolded and timed. But always in your presence, correct, Derek?”

  Derek simply twisted his mouth at the question.

  “If your point is we have let our daughter manipulate us into allowing her to do things as hobbies that she has hidden motives for, we will just stop allowing her to do them.”

  “And that, Tina, is rigid thinking fueled by the intractable desire you have for her to be a normal suburban girl. I’m sorry, but that ended a long time ago. You need to accept the daughter you have, not try and force her to be the one you want.”

  “I’m her mother. She’ll do what I tell her to do.”

  “No, she won’t.”

  The flat pronouncement made Tina narrow her eyes and set her mouth into a hard line. Dr. Croft’s mouth curled up on one side. “That feeling you have right now, Tina, remember it, because that’s what’s going to be coursing through Madelynne’s veins every time you force her down the path you think is best. That stubborn streak she has comes from you.”

  Derek covered his mouth and snickered. Tina inched her head around and gave him a flat stare. “Don’t give me that look; you’re stubborn as hell.”

  Tina turned back toward Dr. Croft. “Be that as it may, I think I may have to disagree. And I’m not certain meeting with you is either necessary or desired. No offense.”

  “None was taken. Do please take it into consideration. In the meantime, I’m canceling all future appointments with Madelynne—at least for the time being. If any further emergencies come up, feel free to call the office.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  As they walked out of Dr. Croft’s office, Tina and Derek looked like they were escaping a foul-smelling hospital room. Maddie looked past their contorted faces, hoping to glimpse Dr. Croft, but her door closed with nary a glance from her toward the hall. Maddie’s parents said nothing, just giving her a sharp twist of their heads toward the elevators. Maddie wanted to know what Dr. Croft had said to them, but she was wise enough not to ask.

  They rode the elevator in silence, exited the building, and walked toward the parking lot. With silent agreement, her mother headed to the car while her dad put his arm around her shoulders and steered her toward his car. Reaching it, he opened the door, then sat outward so that he could face her.

  “Honey . . . a part of me is proud of you for sticking up for someone else. Standing up to a bully, that’s a good thing. Z would approve.”

  “But . . .”

  “But I would have been just as proud if you had gotten a teacher. Prouder in fact. Getting into a literal locker-room brawl is not the way to start high school, and it could cause too much attention. We’re lucky the police did not get involved.”

  Maddie bit her lip, then turned away. She knew what her dad was trying to say, but she didn’t buy it. She made a joke instead. “At least it wasn’t a barroom brawl.”

  Her dad’s face told her the joke had fallen flat. “We will talk about this later. I must get back to work. Don’t sass your mom. And remember—”

  “I know. You love me.” She hugged her dad, then ran to her mom’s car.

  Tina pulled off without a glance in her daughter’s direction. Maddie knew from experience the longer the silence, the worse the lecture or punishment. After a while, her mother did the worst possible thing: She turned on the radio.

  “I’m telling you . . . these damn liberals want nothing more than to steal your hard-earned money!” screamed a cranky voice.

  Tina scowled. She slammed a finger against the radio button to change the station.

  “In breaking news, the Avon Park Police Department is planning to dive into Avon Park Lake to search for missing teen Annie Johnson. She has been missing for three days.”

  Tina reached to turn the radio off, but Maddie’s hand shot out to stop her. “Wait. I want to hear this.”

  “FOX 32 reporter Shantel Watson spoke with Annie’s family earlier today.”

  “We’re praying. Praying for the safe return of our daughter and friend. The Lord above knows she’s had some rough times, but we love her. And we want her home safe.”

  “Police would not say if foul play was a possibility but did state drug activity in the vicinity of Annie’s last-known whereabouts could be involved.”

  “I wonder if that’s who the police were searching for in the woods near the race,” said Maddie.

  “I don’t know, honey. It’s horrible if it is, and it’s horrible if that was another person who is missing from their family.” Tina shook her head, then reached to turn the radio off. Having come within a sliver of losing a child, she understood the pain of the missing girl’s parents. “I do know,” Tina continued, “that all I hear on this radio is bad news and complaining from those talk shows you and your father always have on. Freakin’ radio is a waste.”

  “You could, you know, just put the music station on,” offered Maddie.

  “Music? You actually know what music is, young lady? Because every time I get in this car, the radio is set to some crazy neocon talk show.”

  “Sorry,” muttered Maddie.

  “What? My daughter Madelynne Collins is sorry about something? Wow, that’s a nice change of pace.”

  Maddie turned to her window to watch the scenery whip by. There was no appropriate response to her mother’s statement. She did not consider herself a bratty child or even a bad one, but she was deliberate in most everything she did. Seldom did she feel sorrow over those things. She thought them through, and the few times when she did not, she still knew why she was taking a particular action. She could have gotten a teacher. She also knew there
was no way this was the first time the boy had been harassed. Therefore, sorry was not in the cards for today’s actions.

  “Where are we going?” asked Maddie.

  “Shopping. I need retail therapy to punish your dad for making you.”

  Maddie burst out laughing. “And if I turn into a genteel little lady who becomes prom queen and future Miss America, will that then mean you made me?”

  “No. It will mean I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

  Death was not a subject Maddie liked, even in jest, so any snappy rejoinder died on her lips. Still, if her mom could make jokes, Maddie figured she could ask what she wanted. “So, what did Dr. Croft want, er, say?”

  “That she no longer wants to see you. She wants to see your dad and me instead.”

  “Not a bad idea.”

  “Excuse me, young lady.”

  “What? All parents need therapy.”

  Tina brought the car to a stop at the light. Her head tilted up as she thought that through. “You know, I might just take her up on that. It will make a great foundation in my defense when I finally strangle you. Ooh, look, a mega Sephora store. Perfect. Retail therapy for me, torture for my wayward daughter.”

  Tina’s hand had a firm clasp on Maddie’s wrist as she literally dragged her through the Sephora aisles toward a display case and in-store makeup station.

  “Sit,” said Tina, pointing to a tall stool.

  “Mom, do not waste your money and time buying me something we both know I’m never going to use. I don’t need any makeup.”

  Tina grabbed a large mirror from atop the glass display counter and put it in front of Maddie’s face. The bruises along her nose and under her eyes were beginning to darken.

  “If you think I’m going to let you walk around looking like you came out on the bad end of a parental argument, you got another thing coming. Today, you learn about concealer!”