And she’d paid the price for that mistake. She had given up everything she had for Roger over these years. She had even lost her ability to have children, she thought, but she couldn’t dwell on that. That hurt was too deep.
But now, as she watched her husband flirting, she felt a wonderful lightness. She was still young and she was still pretty, not as pretty as she had been before she’d given years of her life to nursing a sick mother, then a crippled husband, but she was all right. She still had hope, anyway.
“Madison, dear,” Mrs. Randall said as she put her slim hand on Madison’s wrist, “are you all right?”
“Actually, I am very all right. Would you mind if I went fishing tomorrow?”
“Fishing?” Mrs. Randall asked in surprise. “I would never have guessed that you . . .”
“Liked to do anything except slather beauty products on my skin?” Madison asked, amused.
Mrs. Randall’s eyes sparkled. “We have a lot to learn about each other, don’t we?” she said softly so the others wouldn’t hear. “But, yes, of course, do whatever you like. Would you like someone to go with you?”
“No. Just by myself. If that’s all right.”
Mrs. Randall knew what Madison was asking. Did she have to be part of group social activities? Did they all get together and decide that two would do this, four that, etcetera?
“It’s quite all right,” Mrs. Randall said. “And tomorrow I want you to meet my son Thomas. He also likes to fish.”
Madison gave a glance down the table at Roger. He now had both Nina and Terri leaning across the table toward him as he told some story. Probably about some mad escapade that he’d had in high school, Madison thought. She turned back to Mrs. Randall. “Thank you, but I think I’d like to have a holiday from men.”
“I understand completely,” Mrs. Randall said with a smile. “My home is yours. On one condition, that is.”
“Which is?” Madison asked cautiously.
“That you call me Brooke. All my friends do.”
For a moment Madison blinked at the woman. She’d felt a bond with both her and her husband, but she hadn’t realized that the feeling was mutual. Also, Madison knew that Robbie, who was about the same age as Madison and who had visited the Randalls many times before, was still calling this woman Mrs. Randall. But she was asking Madison to call her Brooke, and she was saying that Madison was her “friend.”
“I would be honored,” Madison said softly, then exchanged a smile with the woman.
“How about tea on the porch? You go get a heavy sweater while I get the brandy.”
“Perfect!” Madison said as the two women got up, leaving the three men and two women sitting at the table. And as Madison went back to her room, she thought, Why couldn’t my in-laws be like these people?
Seven
Madison saw Thomas before he saw her. And right away, she knew that she’d never been as attracted to anyone in her life as she was to him. Her mother had always disliked Roger. Her mother had said that Madison stayed with Roger because he didn’t demand too much from her. “He isn’t a challenge to you in any way. And he makes you fit in,” she’d said to her daughter. Her mother said because Madison had spent most of her life either alone or in a succession of day-care centers, Madison wanted to belong to someone somewhere. So Roger was safe. Being with him had guaranteed that Madison was included in all the “right” parties in high school. And Madison had had the insight to know that if she hadn’t had Roger, her height and her looks would have made her ostracized by the girls and a target of lecherous little games by the boys. Yes, Roger had been safe.
But if she were truthful with herself, Roger had never made her heart jump into her throat as it did when she saw Thomas Randall.
And it was odd that she was attracted to him because Thomas didn’t have the appearance of a man who would inspire passion in a woman. He wasn’t like the hero in a romantic novel. For one thing, he had what had to be a permanent scowl on his face. Maybe his eyes were round and the color of sapphires, but no one could tell because Thomas’s forehead was drawn down into a frown that made two deep creases between his eyes and drew his eyes into mere slits.
However, his eyes were topped by lashes so thick they looked like the false ones glued onto the eyes of dolls. He had a short nose, then what may have been soft full lips, but like his eyes, Thomas kept his lips pulled into a tight line.
As for his body, Thomas was tall, about six feet, and well proportioned and muscular, and from behind, he was delicious. He had broad shoulders, a muscular back, a slim waist, and legs made heavy from years of playing soccer. And, from what Madison had heard, his body had enticed many women to approach him. But so far, not one of them had been able to stand up against what they saw when Thomas turned around. His deep, permanent scowl frightened people away.
But it wasn’t the scowl that sent Madison scurrying into hiding. No, it was the way she felt drawn to him. She had been about to step into the kitchen, which at five A.M. was already bustling with activity. After all, it took time to cover the sideboard with eggs prepared three ways, pancakes, waffles, two kinds of potatoes, fish caught that morning, and four kinds of bread.
“Master Thomas,” said the huge woman who was the Randalls’ cook and whom Madison had seen only briefly the day before. When Madison had asked Roger about her, she’d been told that the woman had worked for Scotty’s mother’s family “forever.”
“Adelia,” Thomas said, frowning at the woman. “Anything to eat?”
At that Madison wanted to weep in frustration. She’d wanted to leave the house without anyone seeing her. Roger was still asleep, since he’d sat up with Scotty and “the girls” until three A.M., drinking beer and reminiscing about people Madison had never met. She’d had no inclination to spend the evening with them, so she’d excused herself and gone to bed. This morning, she’d hoped to sneak out of the house before anyone was awake, so she’d tiptoed about, picked out some fishing gear from where Brooke had shown her it was stored, and set out.
Unfortunately, she’d decided to go through the kitchen, having no idea that it would have anyone in it that early in the morning. And Madison was sure that Adelia was one of those women who’d faint at the thought of someone stepping outside without a full belly, so, to keep from being seen and losing time, Madison had slipped into a space between the refrigerator and a pantry. She was willing to bet that the kitchen hadn’t been renovated since about 1910, and from the roar of the motor of the refrigerator, Madison was sure that that machine was from that era too.
Madison had peeked from behind the refrigerator to see when she could safely escape to the outdoors when the door opened and in walked the man who was undoubtedly Thomas Randall, the elder son. And after seeing him, Madison hadn’t moved a muscle.