Miss Me Not

Get dressed. I have plans for us today. D

Ordinarily, I'd have been pissed at his demanding tone. Did he think he was the boss of me? Truth is, I actually felt relief. I guess freaky me still hadn't scared him away after all.

Jumping from my bed, I dressed in record time and was waiting in the living room like some obedient dog when I heard his jeep pull up in the driveway. I was still aggravated at the way I acted for him sometimes, and I opened the door, ready to lay him out for his bossiness.

My words of reproach died a quick death in my throat when I gasped in surprise at the visitor on my doorstep.

"Mrs. Jackson?" I squawked out, confused.

"Madison," she said, enveloping me in a warm hug that ended before I could even think about stiffening up. "I understand I have you to thank for this. I can't tell you how nice a girls’ day out sounds. Don't get me wrong, I love the twins, but no whining, demands for food or constant potty trips sounds like bliss," she gushed, stepping around me into the house.

Frick, this was mortifying. Hell no. I could not believe Dean had stooped that low. Forcing his mom into taking his pitiful friend/girlfriend, or whatever the hell I was, shopping was just plain wrong. It took me several moments to finally unlock the words that were somehow stuck between my esophagus and larynx.

"Um, Mrs. Jackson, I…"

"Sarah," she gently interrupted me.

"Um, okay, Sarah, it's really nice of you to volunteer, but I wouldn't dream of asking you to give up the day before the holiday to take me shopping," I finally stuttered out.

"Oh, you sweet girl, it's you who would be doing me a favor. Do you know the last time the guys volunteered to watch the girls for the entire day? You wouldn't deny a middle-aged woman the joy of shopping without two three-year-olds tagging along, would you?" she said, looking me straight in the eye.

"Uh, I guess not," I answered, still not quite believing her.

"Excellent," she said, clapping her hands excitedly. "Do you need to grab anything?"

"Just my wallet. I'll be right back," I said, heading down the hall to grab my wallet from my backpack. Apprehension crept in like a perverted stalker as I thought of the charade I would have to go through to appear normal. How would I hide my inner freak for an entire day? Panic clawed though me like a ravenous beast as I grabbed my wallet from my backpack and snatched up my phone off my bed where I had left it.

Flipping my phone over, I saw I had missed a text from Dean. The text message was brief, but it gave me the confidence I needed to at least try.

You can do this, Mads. I believe in you. D

That jerk. I could not fathom how he always knew exactly what to say, or how he knew me so acutely, but it nevertheless sent a strange thrill racing though me.

Taking a calming breath, I headed back out to the living room.

"All set?" Sarah asked.

"Yeah," I said, trailing behind her as she headed out to the minivan parked in our driveway. I paused long enough to lock the door behind me.

The minivan was much as I always imagined a regular family vehicle to be. Crushed Cheerios littered the floor in front of the two booster seats in the second row, while sticky fingerprint marks marred the glass and the door handles.

"God, don't look back there," Sarah said, laughing as she saw me eyeing the backseat. "The girls are a walking disaster," she added affectionately, cringing as she took in the backseat. "I definitely need to have Tim clean the van this weekend," she mused, backing out of my driveway.

"I think it's kind of nice," I admitted, self-consciously.

"Me too," she said, winking at me. "Makes it real. We tried for years to have the twins, so now I think we're blessed with them. None of their mess bothers me."

Her words pierced me like a sword. I detested the word "bless" in any form. "Bless," "blessed," "blessing," they were nothing but a crutch that people used when things were going their way, or when they wanted something. "Please bless me, lord." "We were so blessed by the sermon." "It's a blessing that everyone survived." Their tunes would change when they didn't get the form of blessing they'd wished for. Sometimes, they were given a curse that they would ignore, criticize and wish for something else. I wasn't a blessing. I was the curse.

"So, Dean tells me you're going to be joining us for Thanksgiving," Sarah said, breaking into my thoughts.

"Um, yeah, if that's okay?" I said, not sure how they felt about a stranger attending a family holiday.

"Absolutely," she answered. It didn't escape my notice that she didn't ask about my parents minding, which made it obvious that Dean had clued his parents into my dysfunctional family.

Sarah peppered me with questions on the drive to the mall. The questions were superficial and light, but went a long way toward putting me at ease. By the time she was pulling into a parking spot in front of Dillard's, she knew my favorite color, favorite band, least favorite class and the food that made me want to hurl. I couldn't remember a time when someone had taken an active interest in me, besides Dean, let alone, took the time to ask me silly questions. A strange warmth spread through me and I couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corner of my mouth.

"Okay, so I thought we would hit the junior's section here and pick up a few things. After that, we can hit the smaller stores like Aeropostale, Pac Sun and Hollister. I'm thinking maybe we'll steer clear of Hot Topic this time around," she said, taking in my black clothing. "How does that sound?"