Chapter Twenty-Two
I stayed in my room most of the day. Mom wasn’t on call, so she checked on me throughout the afternoon. Each time she cracked my door, she found me sprawled across the bed, staring up at the ceiling. She never pressed me to open up or questioned me about what was wrong—I guess she just wanted to make sure I hadn’t slit my writs with my razor or something emo like that. I don’t know how she knew what had happened with Maddie—I guess it was just the Sixth Sense she seemed to have whenever I was upset. Probably the fact that Maddie stormed away earlier also helped her reach her conclusion.
Closed off in my bedroom, I didn’t watch TV or listen to music or even text anyone. All I did was think. I thought about Jake until my chest constricted so hard I thought I would suffocate. I thought about Maddie until my already weak heart felt like it would explode in agony. And finally, I thought about what an incredible idiot I was.
There were a million things I should’ve been doing. After all, I was leaving in the morning for Brazil. I assumed a couple of streets over, Maddie was packing for her Costa Rican mission trip. God, it was so typical—me living for the sin city of South America, and Maddie off to do the Lord’s work.
Of course, with both of us leaving the country, it also meant there’d be no way to make things right between us. I would be gone for two weeks, and she was going to be gone for a month. After that, who knew what would happen. Then when the end of August rolled around, we’d be going to separate colleges, and our ties would be completely severed.
The very thought of never seeing her smile again or being with her sent a slow ache raging through my chest. This time I didn’t fight the tears that burned and scorched my throat. Instead, I gave into them and actually f*cking cried. I sobbed like a pansy until I wore my ass out and finally went to sleep.
Wonderful aromas wafting up the stairs woke me up at a little after six. No surprise that Mom had cooked my favorite meal, one of Grammy’s recipes for chicken casserole. I went downstairs of my own volition before she could come back and beg me to come down. Greg and Mom didn’t press me to talk at dinner. They rattled on about work and about the wedding pictures that had just come back. It was only when they started talking baby names that my head jerked up from my plate. Mom was still desperately hoping to name the baby Emma, but so far, Greg, a Friends fanatic, thought that was copying Ross and Rachel’s baby.
Tonight, however, he’d come up with a compromise. “What if we named her Emma Madelyn—you know, Madelyn after my mother? We could even do Madelyn Emma and call her Maddy Em or something cutesy like that.”
An uncomfortable silence hung over the table. Mom’s fork clattered on her plate as she shot Greg a look. When he realized he’d hit a sore subject with the name, he hung his head. “I’m sorry, Noah. I completely forgot about Maddie’s name.”
I thought about what the old me would have done. I would’ve probably yelled at Greg for being an unthinking bastard and stormed off from the table. But as much as I hated to admit it, I was changed. So, I scooted my chair out from the table and stood up. “I think Madelyn is a really pretty name,” I said sincerely.
Then I took my plate to the sink. I walked calmly out of the kitchen—no huffing or exasperated eye rolls—leaving Mom and Greg in shock at the table.
A few minutes later, Mom rapped on my door. “Noah?” she questioned.
“Hmm,” I murmured.
She cracked open the door and peered tentatively inside. “Sweetie, Greg and I were going to make ice cream sundaes. Would you like one?”
Poor Mom, still trying to feed my heartache with sweets just like she had when I was a child. I remembered the day that Jake duct taped me to the chair, we went for ice cream for a week. Of course, it also made me think about Maddie and the night we went to Baskin Robbins, and my stomach cramped.
I smiled. “No thanks, Mom.”
“Okay, well, we’re gonna be downstairs watching a movie if you change your mind.”
“Sure.”
Mom closed the door, and I heard her padding down the hall. My chest ached. I missed Maddie, and I missed Jake. More than anything, I wished I could talk to him. He would understand me. Hell, he might even have a few words of wisdom for me in the situation I found myself in. But I couldn’t talk to Jake. So I tried to think of the next best thing.
I pulled out my cell phone and scrolled through the numbers. I selected a number and listened to it dialing. He answered on the third ring.
“Hey Dad, it’s me. Can we talk?”
It was after nine when I hung up with my dad. We talked about so much that by the time I got off the phone, my head hurt. It wasn’t all good stuff either. I came clean about a lot of things as did he. But it was nice being able to reach out to him. With my head pounding, I went downstairs to get some pain medicine out of Mom’s goody-bag.
Mom and Greg were on the infamous couch in the living room. Fortunately, this time they weren’t in a compromising position. Mom was leaned back against Greg with a bowl full of popcorn balanced on her belly. The romantic sap in me thought the scene was kinda sweet.
When they noticed me, they both smiled. “Hi, sweetie,” Mom said.
“Hey. I’ve kinda got a headache, and I wanted to get some medicine out of your bag.”
“Here, I’ll get it for you,” Mom insisted.
“No, that’s okay.”
Mom wouldn’t hear any of it. She was off the couch in an instant—well as fast as she could with her growing belly. Back in the kitchen, she fixed me some water and then handed me two pills.
“Thanks,” I said.
When I started to go back upstairs, she stopped me. “Come watch a movie with us, Noah,” she pleaded. I don’t know who was more upset—me or Mom.
“Okay,” I reluctantly agreed.
Her eyes lit up, and she practically dragged me into the living room. I eased down in the chair and propped my feet up on the ottoman. “What are we watching?”
“Say Anything. A classic from the 80’s,” Greg answered.
“Well, the 80’s were more Greg’s generation than mine since he’s older than me,” Mom joked with a wink.
Greg laughed as he wrapped his arms around Mom. “Yeah, by a measly three years!”
She smiled while snuggling closer to him. “That’s true.”
“Hey Noah, want some popcorn?” Greg asked.
“Yeah, sure,” I said, as he passed the bowl over to me.
We settled down as the opening credits appeared. It didn’t take me long to both like and hate the movie. For one, it was about a kinda slacker guy who fell in love with the goody Valedictorian—ring any bells?
I was practically in tears when the girl broke up with the guy—much in the same way Maddie had said good-bye earlier today. When the guy, Lloyd, did his epic feat to win her back, I was on the edge of my seat. He stood outside her window all night playing Peter Gabriel’s In Your Eyes—a song that meant something to both of them. Not only was I impressed that he was able to hoist that massive boom box over his head most of the night, but I also felt empowered.
Mom interrupted my moment. “Oh, pause it a second, honey. I’ve got to pee, again,” she groaned as she hopped off the couch.
Once he heard the bathroom door close, Greg whistled at me. “Hey Noah, Maggie told me what had happened with Maddie.”
“Yeah,” I said tentatively, silently praying he wasn’t trying to get all fatherly on me.
“Well, I, uh…” He glanced down at his hands. “I just wanted you to know there’s a six pack of beer hidden behind my golf clubs in the garage—you know in case you were thirsty later.”
I couldn’t help laughing at his suggestion and the fact he was whipped enough to be hiding booze from Mom. Giving him a genuine grin, I replied, “Thanks, Greg. I appreciate that.”
He nodded. “No problem.”
When Mom came back from the bathroom, I winked at Greg. “Yeah, I think I’ll go outside for a while—you know, get a little fresh air.”
Before Mom could argue that the movie wasn’t over, Greg piped up. “That sounds like a good idea, Noah. You take as much time as you need.”
I nodded as I headed into the kitchen. As I flipped the light on in the garage, I had to admit Greg was pretty cool. It was almost laughable he feared Mom enough that he was hiding his beer. Despite the fact Mom was half-Irish, she hated alcohol in the house. Her Southern Baptist roots from Grammy’s side must have won out on that one.
I found the beer just as he said it would be. I grabbed up three bottles and headed for the swing in the back yard. I downed the first one in three long gulps. The second one I sipped slowly—as I gathered my thoughts and tried to figure out what the hell had gone wrong. Finally, on the third one, the scene from the movie flashed before my eyes, and I knew what I had to do.
I had to get Maddie back.
But more than that, I had to do something—something epic if I was going to win her love and trust again. I tossed the beer bottles over the fence and raced inside the house for the phone.
***