24. Maddy
24
MADDY
I never knew what a prolific writer my dad had been.
A report about Green Bay wide receiver Bradley Ianelli recovering from a potentially career-ending injury on the field reminded me about my dad’s coverage of a similar scenario with a Cowboys’ quarterback in the seventies, so I’d grabbed my phone while I was still in bed to reread what he’d written about the player. The next thing I knew, it was after ten and I was down the rabbit hole, chasing leads to find articles that went all the way back to his first job. Some of the older ones even had a blurry old photo of him included at the end as part of his byline.
It made me tear up, seeing his life’s work on my screen. And reading the comments at the end of many of his more recent articles made it clear that people loved his perspective. He was missed, not just by me, but by legions of his readers.
I finally got up to eat breakfast still scrolling through his work, and was struck by a feeling I hadn’t felt in way too long. I wanted to write. About him. How he’d inspired me, and the ways in which I was trying to carry on his legacy. I sat down at my tiny kitchen table still in my pajamas and reached for my laptop hoping that a banana, the only thing I had in the place, would give me enough fuel to translate my thoughts to the page.
It felt so good, doing something just for me. Lately my life seemed like it was all about making sure Noah had everything he needed. After the way he’d responded to the news about Beckett yesterday, the lopsidedness of our relationship was becoming even more obvious. It still hurt that Noah had immediately pivoted to concerns about optics while completely ignoring my feelings about Beckett. I was happy to be away for the day even though a tiny part of me wondered if he missed me.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when a text came through and jerked me out of my fugue state. I assumed it was Noah reaching out with some sort of emergency. But no, it was a text from Nia, typically vague. Just a series of question marks.
I was about to respond when another message from her came in. “Cassie’s baby shower favors, today. Where are you????”
I dropped my phone on the table. How had I forgotten? The crafting date had been on my calendar for weeks, but then again, lately it seemed like the only calendar that mattered was Noah’s.
“Running behind but I’ll be there ASAP!” I lied.
I was already half an hour late, so there was no time for a shower. I threw on sweats and ran out my door. I drove so fast I was shocked I didn’t get pulled over.
“You ready to get down and dirty?” Hope asked as she let me into their apartment, holding up hands that were dusted in topsoil.
I’d forgotten what the craft even was, but I smiled brightly. “Yup, always!”
Normally she would’ve found a way to hug me, dirty hands and all, but today she stepped aside and let me pass by her. It was a huge hint that things were going to be awkward. I followed her in to find Nia seated at the table in front of dozens of tiny yellow pots, succulents, and mounds of dirt.
She shot me a look. “I’m totally regretting this project. No wonder you almost didn’t show.”
“Stop, I’m here now and that’s all that matters,” I answered, ignoring Nia’s pained expression. If they only knew exactly how close I’d been to blanking on the day. My unscheduled time off was a lucky break. “What’s the process for these things?”
“We just figured it out, actually,” Hope said. “You and Nia need to put the little ‘growing together’ tags on the raffia strings and hot glue them to the pots. Make sure to leave enough extra length to tie a bow. I’m in charge of taking the succulents out of their ugly plastic pots and replanting them in the cute pots. We did a test run, and it works best if you guys do the decorative stuff first then I repot.”
“Which you would’ve known if you’d been here on time,” Nia grumbled.
It was a typical dynamic when something was wrong between us. Hope ignored the problem and Nia made smart-ass comments until one of us had the balls to address it head-on. For now, I was fine to let it ride. I wasn’t in the mood to argue since I hadn’t seen them in forever. I grabbed my share of supplies and settled at the far end of the table from Nia.
“Quiet in here,” Hope said, glancing between us. “We need music.”
She fiddled with her phone as Nia and I did our best to wrap the stiff raffia around the slippery pots.
Lady Gaga started singing about bad romance and Hope hummed along.
“Speaking of bad romance…” Nia shot me a look.
My resolve to let things ride had weakened with every snide comment. This was comment number seven, and I decided I’d had enough. I sighed and let the strings fall to the table in front of me. “What? Just say it, Nia.”
“Hey, hey, come on! This is supposed to be fun!” Hope pleaded. “Let’s not argue.”
“I don’t want to argue either,” Nia said in a voice that very much sounded like she was ready for a fight. “I just want Maddy to know how we feel, okay?”
My heart sank. We had so little time together these days, I hated the thought of wasting it bickering with them. But letting things fester wouldn’t do us any good, either.
Nia turned to me, and her sad expression wasn’t what I was expecting. “We miss you, okay? You’re never around. It hurts.”
“We sort of feel like we don’t matter to you anymore,” Hope added, her voice soft.
Between the pressure of the past few days and now this, I felt like I was about to lose it. I fought to keep from crying, because I knew if I did Hope would quickly follow since she was the mushiest one of us.
“You guys,” I said, glancing between them and blinking back tears. “No! You’re everything to me. You’re my sisters! I’m so sorry I’ve made you feel that way. I’ve been through a bunch of changes, and I know I’ve been wrapped up in work.”
“And Noah,” Nia snorted.
“Well…” I said, nervously fiddling with the tiny pot in my hands.
“What did he do?” Nia narrowed her eyes at me, her anger seeming to shift from being directed at me to being directed at Noah. “What happened? Tell us.”
“No, I don’t want us to focus on me and my problems,” I said. “Today is about Cassie.”
“Your problems are our problems,” Hope said, reaching to grasp my hand. “Spill it.”
I thought about protesting more, but I really did want their take on what had happened, so I told the whole story about Beckett working at PSM, what he’d said to me, and how Noah had reacted.
“Yuck. I don’t like it,” Hope said once I finished.
“Which part?” I laughed.
“Well, all of it,” she said. “I don’t like you being around Beckett again. He was bad for you.”
Nia put her hot glue gun down. “And honestly, Noah’s reaction was kind of shitty too. His focus went right to how it could look to his business. He should’ve been more concerned with how you were feeling.”
I frowned and stared at the piece of raffia I’d shredded down to nothing. “That’s how I felt too. He was concerned about me at first, but then he switched over to worrying about appearances and it was like he forgot about me completely.”
“But can I say something?” Hope asked, raising her hand.
We both glanced at her.
“Why didn’t you tell Noah about Beckett earlier? Maybe he felt like you were keeping secrets from him, and that hurt?”
I’d asked myself the same question over and over and couldn’t come up with a good explanation. He hadn’t exactly been forthcoming with his own dating history. On the other hand, none of his exes worked at PSM—as far as I knew, anyway. I shrugged.
“And if the two of you are going to get serious you need to be more open with each other,” Nia said as she refocused on the pot in front of her. She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. “ Are you going to get serious?”
“I have no clue,” I admitted as my heart flip-flopped at the thought. “I mean, he’s incredible, and I’m living a life that I never dreamed was possible for me but… I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like my whole life is all about him. What he wants, when he wants it. I’m just along for the ride.”
“Hm,” Hope said. Given how well I knew her the single syllable spoke volumes.
“And I’ve clearly let some important stuff in my life take a back seat.” I gave Nia and Hope a long look. “I hate that you were feeling neglected.”
Hope squeezed my hand again. “We knew you’d come back to us.”
The room went quiet except for the sounds of our sniffles.
Nia cleared her throat. “Enough of the teary stuff, we’ve got twenty friggin’ pots to make, let’s get going.”
After a few hot glue gun misfires and lots of laughter, we finally found our rhythm. It felt like old times, and it made me realize how much I’d been missing over the past few weeks. It wasn’t only the Thursday night dinners—it was this . The connection with my girls, the history we shared, and our deep love for each other. I was happy we’d been able to talk through it instead of letting the hurts pile up. I hoped they could understand why I hadn’t been the best friend lately. I was going to do everything I could to make it up to them.
My phone buzzed as we cracked open our second bottle of wine.
Nia peered at it. “Uh-oh. Someone’s ears were burning.”
I reached across the table and saw that it was Noah. It was three, so he was still working. “Hey,” I answered. “Is everything okay?”
“Hi, yes, everything is fine. I’m sorry to disturb you on your day off. I wanted to confirm the Pittsburgh trip, but I don’t see the tickets in my email or calendar.”
He sounded ridiculously formal. “Are you really doubting that I booked your ticket?” I was too surprised to even feel offended—at least, at first. He knew how seriously I took my work.
“No, of course not!” he backtracked. “I, uh, I’m just putting everything together and I know you usually put our tickets in the desktop travel folder but?—”
“It’s there, Noah. It’s the new calendar feature that’s making it look like it’s missing. Click the blue dot next to the date.”
There was a moment of silence. “Oh, okay! Now I see them. Excellent, everything is there, thanks. I’ll let you go?—"
“Noah, one minute,” I stood up and walked to the glass door by the little balcony so I’d have privacy. “I want to talk to you about something.”
“Of course. What’s going on?”
I took a deep breath. “I’d like to sit this trip out if possible. I’ve been on the road nearly nonstop since you hired me, and it’s been a tough adjustment. I feel like I need to spend some time with my family.” I glanced back to where Nia and Hope were cackling about something, and my heart lurched at the thought of how much I’d missed with my friends, especially as Cassie got closer to her due date. “I can still support you remotely. It’ll feel like I’m right there beside you.”
There was a long pause.
“If that’s what you want then fine.” He sounded even more formal. “Of course. As long as you can remote in for the meetings and stay on top of everything it should be fine.” He paused. “Just this once.”
My stomach dropped a little. He didn’t like it and he wasn’t about to let it become a precedent. As usual, what was best for the company and for Noah himself took priority. Deep down, I understood… but that didn’t stop me from hurting.
“Okay, uh, thanks. I better run; I’m in the middle of something.”
“Excellent. I guess I’ll see you on that first call in Pittsburgh tomorrow?”
We both paused. Noah hadn’t asked me to come over to spend the night, and I wasn’t about to suggest it. “Yup, sounds good. I’ll be there.”
Awkward. Formal. So not like us.
I hoped that wasn’t going to become a precedent.