Page 88 of Pucking Your Best Friend

“No, I didn’t,” she answered sharply. “Dad, I’m not your maid! Take a shower, get dressed — go shopping for yourself! Your grief may prevent you from seeing your old friends or, God forbid, meeting someone new, but sad people can throw things in a cart and use a credit card, too.”

“Maddie, today is not a good day…”

“It’snevera good day, Dad!” she cried desperately. “Not in years. And can I tell you a secret? It’snevera good day for me to run your household. To make sure you eat. Dad, I have a life. It’s okay if you feel dirty and don’t want to do anything about it — but it’s not okay for you to make me feel dirty, too!”

She heard him swallow and then there was silence on the other end. “I…didn’t know you felt that way,” he finally muttered.

“No, because I didn’t want to argue,” she replied, exhausted. “But…sometimes you have to argue. To get what you want. So, from now on, you’re going to go shopping for yourself, Dad. And you’re going to meet up with Lucy and me once a month. Outside the house.” They had to start somewhere.

Her father sighed heavily. “Okay. I can go shopping. But the other thing…”

“No. I don’t want to hear any more backtalk and excuses,” she said loudly, even though her eyes were burning and her chestwas tightening. Even though her tongue was growing thick. “I’ve had enough, Dad. Our family has been broken for long enough and that won’t change if we don’t all try harder.”

“Madison, honey, we’re not…”

“Yes, we are,” she contradicted softly. “Besides, I don’t want to hear it. This Sunday is a Hawks home game and we’re going. All of us together. Like we used to. Because we don’t have to be broken. Yes, we’re missing a part of ourselves and that hurts! But that doesn’t mean that we can’t be a complete puzzle without that missing piece. So, next Sunday, I’ll be at your door at six. You’ll be showered and dressed, and looking forward to it. Do we understand each other?”

It was quiet for a few endless seconds. Then he said a word that she hadn’t heard from him in years. “Okay.”

A lump fought its way into her throat and her voice was hoarse as she continued. “Good. That’s…good.” She wanted to tell him that he should start therapy again, that he should go for more walks, but that would be too much for today. One step at a time. “Dad. We miss you, you know? We miss Mom and we miss you. The only difference is that you’re still here. So…you’d better freaking be there.”

Then, she hung up.

Panic-stricken, her heart pounded in her chest. Had she just said all that? Was she seeking confrontation? Oh, she felt sick. At the same time, a smile broke out on her face. It had helped! Matt was right. Sometimes things had to get ugly before they could get better. Adrenaline was still pumping through her veins…and she wasn’t done yet!

Her hands were shaking, but she didn’t want to stop this trend of telling people what she really thought. She was no longer afraid of starting arguments. What if she lost her courage tomorrow, though?

So she dialed the number of the one person she wished would call more often. The person who had no idea what was going on in Los Angeles, but should.

“Dr. Rachel James,” her sister answered after the third ring. She sounded as unemotional and objective as Connor Stone. Honestly, Maddie had never heard her sister raise her voice…and she wondered if today would be the first time.

“Hey, Rachel, it’s me, Maddie,” she answered, squaring her shoulders.

“Maddie,” Rachel replied, surprised – maybe alarmed. “Is everything okay? Are Dad and Lucy okay?”

Maddie closed her eyes and sighed heavily. Apparently, it had gotten to the point where her oldest sister only expected a call from her if a family member had had an accident.

“They’re okay,” she said vaguely, laughing tonelessly. “No, you know what? Lucy’s fine, Dad, however, is still bad. As you know. That’s why I’ve decided…you need to come home for Christmas.”

Silence followed. “What?” her sister merely stated.

Maddie cleared her throat. “I know you canceled, but I’m not about to accept that, Rachel. We haven’t seen you in two years. We miss you. Dad is holed up and you’re not here to help him — and you’re the damn psychologist! So, pull yourself together, hop on a plane, and get your butt out here.”

Silence again. Finally and quietly, she responded, “You’re right.”

Maddie blinked, perplexed. “I am?”

“Yes. I…” A heavy sigh. “I shouldn’t be running away anymore. I’ll be there for Christmas. I might move back this coming spring, anyway.”

Maddie’s mouth fell open. “What do you mean?”

“I…a few things have changed for me recently and I’ve been thinking about starting over. With you. If that’s okay.”

“What’s changed?” she asked, confused. It was the first time she was hearing it. “You can come anytime, you know that.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” She swallowed again. “Maddie,” she whispered in a thin voice. “I’m sorry. That it hit you so hard. I’m the oldest and I should have taken responsibility back when Mom died, but…” She broke off.

“It hit you even harder than it hit us,” Maddie whispered. “We know that. You were a total mama’s girl. You two had a special relationship.”

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