4. Chapter Four
Chapter Four
Madison
I f my deal with Parker went through the way I planned, finding a new place to live would be the first thing on my to-do list, because staying at my mother’s house was already out of the question. Sylvia Hartley had always been a pain in my perky butt, but I’d somehow forgotten just how much. A single night back was all the reminder I needed.
Within an hour of learning about Annie Foster’s wedding, she’d homed in on her favorite topic: my future husband. Newsflash - there wasn’t even a boyfriend.
The next morning, she hit me with the announcement that my siblings and their significant others were coming over for lunch. Did anyone in this family actually work? It was a freaking Wednesday. How could they drop everything for a midday gathering? And Clem? Didn’t she have enough on her plate already? A bakery to run, a baby to juggle, and a husband to manage.
My biggest issue with my family was that they were so annoyingly happy I couldn’t stand being around them. And not because I was miserable. I liked my single, child-free life just fine. But ever since they’d all found The One, they acted like they lived better than the rest of us.
All of this made me even more motivated to get a place of my own. I didn’t want them dropping in unannounced, judging my life choices every chance they got.
The doorbell rang at noon, and moments later, I heard their voices echoing on the second floor.
I dragged myself downstairs, where my sister Clementine practically tackled me with her daughter in her arms, before I even had the chance to say hello. “Look who’s here, Daff,” she cooed. “It’s Auntie Maddie.”
I reached around the baby to give my sister a quick hug. “Auntie Maddie makes me sound ancient.”
“Tyler’s teaching her to call you monster Maddie. I can join in his efforts, if you’d prefer.”
“Damn, Clem,” Tyler’s voice rang from the living room. “Did you have to ruin my moment? I wanted to see her face the first time Daff called her that!”
“I don’t care what Daphne calls me,” I shot back, half-joking but also truthful. Tyler chuckled, but Clementine’s expression shifted, and the purse of her lips told me I’d crossed a line with that comment.
“You look amazing, by the way,” she changed the subject. “I hate you. ”
I laughed, but could see her point. She looked pale and exhausted. Dark circles around her bloodshot eyes. Hair that could use a shampoo. And a hair brush.
“On the bright side, your boobs are bigger,” I said, flashing her a quick grin. Lucas shot me a death glare and leaned in to whisper something in Clem’s ear. Her pale face blushed.
Instead of apologizing, I rounded her and headed into the living room to greet the others. Tyler scooped me up in a bear hug I hadn’t expected. Once he set me down, I congratulated him on his engagement and I asked the obvious question.
“Isn’t it a little soon for a baby?”
“When you know, you know,” he shrugged. “Why wait?”
“You two only became a functioning couple, what... three? Four months ago?”
“I realize it’s against your nature, but could you be happy for me, Monster Maddie? Just this once?”
“Of course I’m happy for you.”
Mostly anyway. Not that I wasn’t glad for him, but coming from a divorced family had made me skeptical. Statistics were on my side too, not to mention, years spent helping people plan weddings that had taught me that the happy-ever-after ending was a myth they liked to pay for, as if getting married was the end of the journey.
“I’ve known you my entire life, sis. No need to lie to me.” He dragged me into another hug, squeezing the breath out of me.
I pushed him away. “What’s gotten into you?”
“I’m in love. You should try it sometime. It’s not false advertising, I swear. It really changes even shitty people like us.”
I shook my head. “You’re changed, that’s for sure. How far along is Hannah?”
“Eight weeks. The doctor says everything looks good. ”
“I can’t believe you, of all people, found a woman willing to bear you a child.”
“Thanks, Mom,” he nudged my shoulder, grinning. “All you need now is a house in the suburbs, a husband to nag, and a few kids to neglect, and you’ll officially be her clone.”
“I don’t plan on having any of those things, thanks. I’m happy on my own.”
“Have you told her that her favorite offspring isn’t planning to give her any grandkids to be proud of?”
“You and Clem will give her plenty.”
“It’s not the same. You’re the perfect one.”
There it was again. At some point, my siblings got convinced that Mom loved me more, that she accepted me in a way she never had accepted them. They couldn’t be more wrong.
“Mom never thought I was perfect.”
“You’re the one closest to her standards.”
Because I’m the only one who ever tried to meet them , I wanted to say but didn’t.
“I’ll congratulate Hannah,” I said, stepping away from him and heading over to his fiancée.
After chatting with Hannah and Mike, I made my way into the dining area, where someone had arranged what looked like a lavish lunch. The aroma of grilled meats and fresh vegetables filled the air, making my mouth water.
I’d been home all morning. Mom hadn’t cooked this. So I turned to Clem. “Did you make all this?”
She had a bakery, not a restaurant, but cooking was cooking, right?
“Of course not.” Clem’s response was sharper than I expected. “I need a backup just to wash my hair these days. There’s no way I could prepare a meal for seven people. ”
Her tone sounded accusatory, like I should’ve known. I let it go. She had an excuse to be cranky: the almost seven-month-old drooling all over her blouse.
“She’s going to ruin your shirt,” I said, nodding toward my niece.
Clem opened her mouth to respond, but Mom entered the room with all the grace of an aristocrat and commanded us to sit and eat.
“I wanted us all together to celebrate Maddie’s return,” she began.
“Temporary return,” I clarified, but she ignored me.
“We should also congratulate her on securing Annie Foster’s wedding.” She leaned over the table, wearing an expression that could pass for pride. “I knew you’d be the one to make it big.”
Clem, Tyler, Lucas and Hannah exchanged looks. We all knew what Mom was up to. Just yesterday, she’d told me I wasn’t good enough for Annie Foster, but now she’d twisted my success into a dig at my siblings. She’d been pitting us against each other since we were kids, using me as the ideal example, as though that didn’t mean I’d been just as criticized as they were. Mom only ever praised me to show off or to make Clem and Tyler feel inadequate.
Instead of standing up for them, the way a real big sister should, I did what I always had: smiled and kept my mouth shut.
Lunch conversation revolved around Daphne - her sleep, her feeding schedule, and somehow her bowel movements. When did it become acceptable to discuss diaper contents over a meal? No one else seemed bothered, though, so I zoned out, nodding here and there like a polite guest.
Everyone passed Daphne around the table like a tiny celebrity. Strangely, no one offered her to me. Not that I wanted to hold her, but even Mike got a turn, and he was practically an outsider. And yet, he fit in better than I did. No one gave him the side-eye .
“Maddie, honey,” my mother cut into my thoughts. “You should come to my spin class.”
All heads turned. Sylvia Hartley wasn’t famous for wanting to spend time with her children.
“Why?” I asked, making no attempt to hide my suspicion.
“There’s a man who trains at my gym. We’ve talked a few times. He’s a charmer. A realtor. A bit older than you. Early forties.”
“That’s not a bit. It’s an entire decade older, Mom.”
She ignored me. “He’s still attractive and keeps himself in shape. You’d never give him a day over thirty-five.”
“And why should I care about his looks?” I asked, already dreading the answer.
“He’s a great catch.”
“He’s a stranger.”
“He’s not a stranger, honey. I told you. We work out at the same gym.” She paused as if waiting for this logic to sink in. When it didn’t, she pushed forward. “You should come and meet him. You two would hit it off, I’m sure of it.”
“He’s forty and still single. There must be a reason.”
“You can’t afford to be picky.”
“Oh, really? And why is that?”
“Most of the eligible men your age are married, Madison. You’re in the dating pool of forty-year-old bachelors and divorcees. Divorced men often already have children and might not want more, but a man who’s never been married would.”
If I wanted a husband or children, that might mean something to me. Instead of explaining this to her, I tried steering the conversation in another direction.
“Maybe we should focus on the next wedding in the family, and on the grandkids who actually exist, instead of my hypothetical children. ”
“What do you mean, hypothetical?” Her tone sharpened.
“Forget it. Let’s just eat.”
Lucas shifted the conversation back to Daphne. And while I wasn’t sure if it was intentional, I was grateful for the distraction. I ate in silence, half-wondering if I should just spend my savings paying for hotel rooms for the sake of my sanity.
When everyone finished eating, I helped clear the table. I’d just returned from the kitchen, hands empty, when Clementine pushed Daphne into my arms. “I need to run to the bathroom,” she said, leaving me with her child. A child I carefully held at arm’s length. My four-hundred-dollar shirt didn’t pair well with baby vomit.
My niece seemed to sense my reluctance to cuddle, and soon she was screaming at the top of her lungs. Tyler appeared seconds later, arms extended. “Here, hand her over.” Daphne immediately quieted down as he held her close to his chest. “Even she knows you’re evil.”
I knew he was joking, but I wasn’t in the mood. “This child is spoiled. What happened to self-soothing?”
He raised an eyebrow, unamused.
A few minutes later, Clem returned from the bathroom, pausing when she saw Tyler holding Daphne instead of me. She gave me a look that screamed judgment, but I wasn’t about to let her attitude slide. “I’m not the babysitting type, Clem. You know that.” Ignoring the looks that followed, I excused myself and checked my phone for messages.
Nothing.
Apparently, spending years focusing on work meant no texts or calls outside of the professional world. And even those had all but dried up lately. Annie Foster’s wedding was all I got.
Good riddance. People are stupid anyway.