“Why are you still here?” Claire said, looking up at her very comfortable house guest. “You’re not stayin’ for dinner are you? ’Cause I only got enough for me and Gavin.”
“Nah, I’m gonna go home.” She shook her head and dangled her feet. “I haven’t seen my parents much since I’ve been home from New Orleans.”
“What the heck have you been doing?” Claire looked up at her with judging eyes. “You’ve been home for two days now.”
“I got busy.” Madison shrugged her shoulders, thinking of how Cash had shown up on his motorcycle and taken her away to his parents’ cabin, fake-casually asking how her weekend with George was before throwing her down on the futon.
She jumped from the counter, her feet landing on the floor, and kissed her cousin good-bye on the cheek.
“Love you,” Claire said as Madison walked out of the room.
“Sure ya do,” she yelled back with sass.
? ? ?
“WHAT ARE Y’ALL doing?” Madison asked when she walked into the den and saw her parents boxing up her mom’s collection of porcelain dolls. She’d always found their round eyes and overly made-up faces creepy, but they were her mom’s prized possessions.
“Oh, just doing some spring cleaning,” her mom said in a high voice. She looked at her husband as if to say, “Did that sound convincing?”
“It’s not spring yet,” Madison pointed out. “Why are you getting rid of your dolls?”
“We’re gonna have a garage sale,” her dad said, taking a sip from his blue tumbler. There were dark circles under his eyes and his hands trembled slightly. “Out with the old, in with the new.”
Madison processed this conversation for a moment. “Does this have anything to do with money?” She turned to her mom, who couldn’t tell a lie. “Are y’all selling things because Daddy isn’t working anymore?”
Her mom teared up but didn’t answer.
“Daddy?” Madison asked, turning to her father.
He walked over to her and put his hand on her shoulder. “Gotta pay the mortgage somehow, darlin’.”
Madison’s stomach dropped. She knew times were tight but had no idea it had gotten this bad. “But, Mom. You love those things.” Madison looked at her mother as she boxed up Bella, her beloved blond doll who wore a satin pink dress covered with bows. “There’s gotta be something else we can sell, right?” She glanced at her dad.
He walked over to the glass sliding door and looked out at the old rickety boat.
“Don’t even think about it,” Madison begged. That boat was more than a possession—it was their memories, and something that would last long after her dad’s illness had stolen him from them.
“That should give us a couple ’a thousand.” He walked back over and put his frail hand on her head. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but we need to do this.”
“I’ll fix it,” Madison blurted out. “I’ll get the money. I promise.”
She went to her bedroom and closed the door. A wave of sadness crashed over her, and she couldn’t control the tears. The last time she had cried was when she got into a fistfight with Jenny Wiggins in seventh grade. That girl was a bitch. And strong. And probably still had that clump of hair she yanked from Madison’s head stored in some weird collection she kept of her enemies’ body parts.
Madison looked around her bedroom. It was pretty bare—there was nothing she could sell, save for the signed Black Keys poster Cash brought her from a music festival he played at last summer. But the money she’d get from that would be mere pennies. She looked at her white dresser and caught a glimpse of the Tiffany box sitting on top of it. Madison stood up, walked over, and opened it up. The strand of pearls felt heavy in her palm.
She shifted the necklace from one hand to the other, the pearls hitting against each other with a light clack. As much as she loved them, they didn’t feel right in her hands. Pearls like these belonged to the rich ladies she and her mom worked for, not her. They needed to be in a velvet-lined jewelry box among other pearls and diamonds and gemstones, not next to a couple of faux leather-wrap bracelets and a cheap metal ear cuff from Claire’s Accessories. She wasn’t meant to have nice stuff, she convinced herself. Not when she had the chance to help her parents.
? ? ?
“I GET A cut, right?” Cash asked as they walked to the pawnshop on Main Street.
“Yeah, right,” Madison said, holding the box tightly in her hand. According to the quick Google search she’d done before they left the house, she had to have been carrying a couple of thousand dollars. It would be enough to tide her parents over for a month or two.
“Pfft,” Cash said. “You wouldn’t even know what to say to ol’ man LeRoy. I’m a regular pawner. He’s good to me.”
“You get me a good trade, and I’ll give you something good,” Madison said with a flirty wink.
“It better involve you being naked,” Cash said, running a finger along her waist.
“Gross,” she fired back at him.
“Hmm . . . you don’t usually seem to think that,” he said, grinning.
She turned to face the road, waiting for the crosswalk signal to turn. As they stood there, shivering in the cloudy weather, guilt settled in her stomach. She remembered how George had rehearsed his speech when he gave her the necklace and how eager he’d been to clasp it around her neck. But then she closed her eyes and thought about her parents and their house. She nodded, steeling herself—this was the right thing to do.
A line of cars began passing them, a parade of rumbling motors and exhaust fumes. One of the cars honked twice from up the street. Madison turned her head toward the sound and watched as a silver vehicle drove toward them. As the car slowly made its way across the intersection, she realized it wasn’t just a silver car. It was a silver Porsche.
Her whole body went weak as the vehicle inched closer, coming to a gradual halt in front of her. The window rolled down and George flashed her a goofy grin. She forced herself to smile and waved with her hand that wasn’t holding the necklace. Maybe he won’t see, she thought, quickly hiding the box behind her back. But she was too late. He blinked twice and, as if in slow motion, turned his head to look across the street at the neon-lettered LEROY’S PAWN SHOP sign. Her heart sank as he glanced back at Madison and Cash, lowered his eyes, and waved good-bye. She stood there, mouth open as his silver Porsche drove away.
“What the hell was that?” Cash asked after the car was down the road.
Madison stood there speechless, looking at the blue box in her hands. She felt as though she might throw up, and it had nothing to do with that hot dog she had for lunch.
“Oh my god,” Cash said. “Was that him? Was that the old guy?”
Madison dropped her head in her hand, not wanting to believe what had just happened.
Cash laughed out loud. “Oh man, this is great,” he said. “Just great.”