Madison let out a sigh. It was induced by boredom and anger, both directed at her no-good boyfriend who had recently told her to give him some space and let his fans think he was single.
“It’s better for the appeal of the band,” he had explained earlier that day as they shoveled cheap Thai food into their mouths five minutes before they had to set up for the show. Little did Madison know when she had ridden off with Cash that she’d be free labor for the band. The guys were constantly asking her to help do things like pick up their food so they could get some last-minute practice in. They even had her hook up some of the instruments before the shows, like she was their roadie or something.
“The only thing I came here for was to be with you, and that’s the only thing I’m not actually doing,” she had said, stabbing her green curry chicken with a chopstick.
“You know . . . you’ve been a real downer since this trip started.” He squeezed his lime over his pad thai.
“Excuse me! My boyfriend spends every day in these amazing cities sleeping off his hangovers instead of exploring with me like he promised,” she said. “And then he spends the nights flirting with groupies, telling me to pretend I don’t even know him. I’m sorry, but do you really expect me to be all bright and cheery?”
“Oh, c’mon . . . it’s not like you didn’t know this was how it was gonna be.” He chugged his can of Coke. “You wanted an excuse to get out of Toulouse and away from that weird shit you had going on with that guy. I saved you. . . .”
Madison rolled her eyes. “Whatever!” She had stood up, closed the Styrofoam container, and stormed out of the bus, taking a deep breath of the Alabama air. She perched herself atop a fence surrounding the parking lot as Cash’s words replayed in her head. “It’s not like you didn’t know this was how it was gonna be.”
Actually, that wasn’t true at all. She had naively envisioned them eating at restaurants written up in Time Out and TripAdvisor, not living on takeout from restaurants that were this close to failing their health inspection.
She’d thought they’d check out the aquarium in Atlanta—she had always wanted to see a shark up close—but Cash had insisted on getting high and playing games on his phone. She had pictured them strolling hand in hand as they checked out the botanical gardens in Mobile, but instead she ended up just lying in the uncomfortable tour-bus bunk bed as the guys practiced their new song, “The Worst,” for what felt like the hundredth time.
And now, she sat alone in the dive bar sucking down the most awful gin and tonic she had ever tasted, wishing for the night to be over already.
Her phone vibrated, shaking the sticky round-top table she sat at. HOME showed up on the caller ID. She didn’t really want to talk to her parents—they were already disappointed with her for how she’d handled things with George. But she figured talking to someone, even someone who was mad at her, at this point was welcome.
“Hiya,” she answered as she walked outside in the dimly lit parking lot. “What’s up?”
“Sweetie, I think you should come home,” her mom said without preamble.
Madison let out an audible sigh. “How many times do I have to tell you—I needed to do this, Mama!”
“No, darling. You don’t understand . . . you need to come home to see your daddy.” There was a long pause. “He’s not doin’ so well.”
“What do you mean?” Panic gripped her chest.
“Well, he was having trouble breathing this morning.” Her mom’s voice sounded shaky. “I took him to the emergency room, and the doctors found some fluid around his lungs. They thought about draining it, but since the chemo’s not working, it would just come back.”
“Oh my god.” Madison put her hand over her mouth. “So what’s the next step? What do we need to do now?”
“He’s been through so much and hasn’t been feeling good for a while.” She took a jagged breath. “Mads, he’s decided to go to hospice.”
“What’s hospice?” Madison asked, tensing.
“It means the doctors are gonna make him comfortable for his final days. . . .” Her words slowly trailed off. “It’d be good if you could get back here soon. We’re not sure how much longer he has.”
A lump formed in Madison’s throat. She’d watched her dad waste away for the past year, the poison slowly seeping through his body. But he’d borne it all, still laughing at her jokes when they sat on the porch and still taking his morning walk. And now he was choosing to let go? It hurt her heart to think how miserable he must be to come to that decision.
“I’ll get on the first bus I can,” she told her mom, her voice cracking. Clouds moved over the half-moon, casting an eerie haze over the parking lot.
“Okay,” Connie said softly. “Just keep me posted on your timing. I’ll come pick you up at the station.”
“I’ll look up the schedule right after I talk with you and call you back tonight.” She paused. “Mama?”
“Yeah, darlin’?” the sweet voice on the other end said.
“Whatever happens, we’re gonna get through this together.” The tears started welling up in her eyes.
“I know, baby.” Connie sniffled. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Madison wiped her cheeks dry. After she ended the call, she took a moment to gather her thoughts. She’d known this was coming for months, but nothing could have prepared her for this moment. She choked back a sob, then pushed her hair out of her face and headed back inside the bar.
The group of girls was giggling at something Cash had just said.
“Cash, I need to talk to you,” she said, pulling on his arm.
With narrowed eyes, he whispered, “I’m busy,” then turned his attention back to his fans.
“It’s important.” She tugged at him again, and he begrudgingly walked with her over to one of the high-top tables.
“My dad isn’t doing well, and I have to go back home.” Her eyes welled up. “He doesn’t have much more time left.”
His face dropped. “Dammit. I’m sorry, Mads.” He put his arms around her and gave her a hug.
“Thank you,” she said, resting her head on his muscular shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of his cedary cologne. His hand moved in a circular, soothing motion on her back.
“So, how are you gonna get back?” he finally asked as they pulled apart.
“Well, I was thinking we could take a Greyhound. I have to look up the schedule, but would you be able to leave first thing in the morning?” She pulled her phone out of her back pocket to begin searching for tickets.
“Babe, you know I can’t do that.” He sighed. “I’m really sorry about your dad and all, but I can’t leave the band. They need me.” He looked over at the guys, who were now doing body shots off the girls.
Her eyes widened. “Are you serious?”
“This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for us. I can’t just leave.” He shook his head and gripped his beer bottle tighter.
“I don’t think you understand the situation,” she said, her eyes narrowing. She slowly emphasized each word: “My dad is dying.” Her voice broke on the last word.