“It’s like a house you’d see in a garden magazine,” she murmured. “It’s beautiful.”
“Don’t tell me,” I said and opened the door. “Tell my mom.”
My mother was waiting at the golden oak dining table when we arrived. Her thin hair was in a loose bun, and she wore a baggy blue dress that was tied at the waist with a belt. Everything looked big on her. She must have lost another couple pounds within the last few days.
She smiled deeply as Maddie bent over to offer a quick hug, and she pulled me into an even deeper hug before I took my seat.
“How are you, dear?” she asked Maddie. “It’s so upsetting that I’ve seen you only once in the past decade.”
“I’m good, Ms. Hayward,” Maddie said. “It’s been a busy decade, at least.”
“Mona, please,” Mom said.
I played with my utensils, and the ladies caught each other up on their lives. Maddie told her about her promoting business and her acting and modeling jobs, all the while mentioning times that I’ve supported her from afar. Mom would never have known that I hadn’t said more than a word to Maddie within the past six years.
“Your son has probably been my biggest supporter throughout it all,” Maddie said. “Every time I wanted to quit, he was always there to make me feel better.”
Mom sighed. “I’m so glad to hear that. A woman like you deserves all the support she can get. It’s not easy to make a name for yourself these days.”
“Exactly,” Maddie leaned forward. “It’s so nice to have someone understand.”
Maddie grabbed my hand and squeezed, and it startled me enough that I dropped my fork onto the floor. I apologized and bent to grab it. Maddie’s mouth brushed by my ear as we were beneath the table together.
“Can you at least try to act like you like me?” she whispered.
“Yeah, sorry,” I said and put my fork back on the table.
“Such a klutz,” mom said and shook her head at me.
“Maddie’s getting used to it, right?” I looked at her and smiled. It was forced, but I knew it would look real enough to my mother. Maddie blushed, she was a true actress and nodded.
“Then again, you’ve always been sort of a klutz,” Maddie said. “Oh, like the time that you and Ron went out TP-ing the neighbors’ houses? He loves that story!”
Mom leaned forward with a curious look.
I opened my mouth to shut her up, but she continued without a second glance toward me.
“So, when they were like 13 or 12, Ron and Gavin would run around the neighborhood with like three giant packs of toilet paper. Ron was the fastest at it, but Gavin would take his time because he wanted everything to be even. Like, the entire tree covered in toilet paper.”
Mom broke out in laughter, and I groaned, knowing exactly where the story was going.
“So one night Ron is holding the pack and Gavin is in the tree, but not that high. I think like just five or six feet up there. He wrapped toilet paper around several of the branches and the branch fell. Of course little Gavin thought the best thing to do was throw the rest of the toilet paper on a different branch and try to hang from it. So, he jumped and threw it, and he fell so hard I think he broke his arm!” Maddie covered her mouth as she laughed.
“I remember that!” mom exclaimed and looked over at me. “You told me you fell off your bike!”
I shrugged. “I didn’t want to make you or dad mad.”
Mom laughed and shook her head. “Oh, that’s great. I can picture the whole thing.”
Karen brought out our plates, homemade lasagna with a side salad and glasses of wine for Maddie and me.
“It’s delicious, Mona,” Maddie said, and we ate. “I’ve never had such amazing lasagna before.”
“It’s an old family recipe,” mom said. “Gavin used
to eat up the whole pan.”
Maddie brushed her shoulder against mine, and it took everything in me not to push her away.