2
MADDIE
I held my hand above my eyes and squinted at the bright rays smacking me in the face. As much as I would have liked to complain, it wasn't the sun's fault it was so damn bright. Nope, thanks to Frankie's margarita concoction yesterday, I was feeling the slightest bit fragile.
She'd arrived on my doorstep fifteen minutes after I'd informed her of my neighbor's wonderful personality. And because it wasn't in Frankie's nature to show up empty handed, she'd waltzed into my kitchen with lunch, dessert, and drinks.
Lots and lots of drinks.
Naturally we'd hoped to catch a glimpse of Mr. Personality next door, but his grumpy butt hadn't made an appearance once. In fact, I didn't think I was going to be seeing much of him at all.
He'd made that perfectly clear when he stalked back into his house when I returned from the beach earlier this morning. I hadn't even had a chance to lift my arm to wave before the shadowy figure pushed off his chair and disappeared .
From the tiny bit I could make out, I spotted my sister, Jennah, heading toward our parents' hardware store. Instead of going in, she turned and waited for me to catch up. Great.
"Fun weekend?" she chirped the moment I reached her.
Jennah had two years on me but anyone who didn't know us could easily mistake us for twins. We had the same blonde hair, we shared the same almond-shaped, hazel-colored eyes. Even our damn noses looked alike.
That's where the similarities stopped, though. Unlike me, Jennah had her act together. She was raising my nephew on her own and doing a damn good job at it too. Her bookkeeping skills were the best. And she had yet to disappoint my parents in any way.
Pushing those thoughts away, I forced a smile to my lips and said, "Frankie brought her trunk of drunk over yesterday." There wasn't a person in Clearwater Bay who didn't know about Frankie's trunk of drunk. Creating delicious boozy drinks was her passion. Well, that and baking.
So much so that her bakery, Sugar Booger, was known for its decadent alcoholic cupcakes two towns over.
Jennah made a noise and pulled on the door. "Come on, let's get some coffee in you."
Eager to get out of the sun, I rushed past her, giving her a grateful smile as I did. She smiled back but something was off. She looked almost sad.
"Is Tommy okay?" I asked over my shoulder .
I could only see her brow pull together before I had to focus on where I was going. I didn't want to accidentally walk into one of the shelves and have a hammer or screwdriver fall on my toes.
"He thinks his life sucks and that I am the worst mom for making him eat his vegetables. So, just another normal day. Why?"
I shook my head and immediately regretted it. "You look…off. Are you okay?"
A warm hand landed on my shoulder and squeezed.
"I'm just tired. The only one who is not okay here is you and that head of yours.
" The hairs at my nape stood on end. My sister was lying to me and I didn't like it.
Unfortunately, my brain hurt too much for me to even attempt to get to the bottom of it.
Focusing on the delicious coffee smell coming from the small kitchen at the back of the store, I made a mental note to ask her about it later. Way later, when the little guy pounding his hammer against my skull went to sleep.
As I knew we would, we found our mom sitting at the little table; sipping her tea and doing her crossword.
"Don't talk too loud, Maddie has a hangover," Jennah cheerily announced.
Mom looked up; her dark brown eyes boring into me from over the rim of her glasses. She didn't have to say a single word. I felt the weight of her disapproval all the way to the soles of my feet.
Shrugging, I muttered the same words I'd said to Jennah. "Frankie came over. "
When my mom dragged her glasses off her nose and set them on the table with a sigh, I wanted to turn around and run until my legs couldn't carry me anymore.
"Madison, you know better than that. It's irresponsible."
Working my jaw, I thought of the view from my backyard. Of how I got to dance my heart out on that beach every single morning without judgement. I thought long and hard about that before I answered my mother. Because if I didn't, no one would've liked the words that wanted out.
"It won't affect my work." Turning my gaze to my sister who was looking like she regretted opening her mouth, I said, "I won't be needing that coffee." Without another word, I hurried to the front of the store and took my place behind the counter.
A few minutes later, my sister pushed a steaming mug of caffeine in front of me and simply said, "Sorry", before she stalked off to her office to make sure Dad's books where in tiptop shape.
Fun times.
The morning dragged on and my mood simply went from bad to worse. I needed a distraction from the mess that was my life. Staring out the window at our picturesque little town, an image of Mr. Personality and his very fine ass popped into my head.
Needing the escape, I gave my imagination free reign. I thought back to his ink-covered sculpted arm and big, manly hands. They had to be big if he could hold the wood in place so effortlessly .
I bet his palms were rough and would probably have goosebumps popping up all over as it scraped along my skin. Or when it fisted my hair. Or—
Oh, good heavens. Here I was daydreaming about a man I hadn't even seen yet.
A very unpleasant man. Was that what my life had come to?
Working in my dad's hardware store because I couldn't cut it in New York and fantasizing about a faceless man because the only action I got was from a battery-operated device that lived in my bedside drawer.
I couldn't decide whether to be embarrassed or just sad.
"Good morning, dearie."
Snapping out of my wallowing, I found Mrs. Christi standing on the other side of the counter. Her smile was warm and friendly as she pushed a shower head and a few hooks toward me.
"Morning, Mrs. Christi." I started scanning the items and placed them in a bag. "Did you have a good weekend?"
Her entire face lit up. "Oh, yes. We visited Sharon in the city, and she took us to the new firm she's working at." Clasping her hands in front of her chest, she let out a little sigh. "It was so fancy. They offered us champagne and tiny morsels of food that looked too pretty too eat."
When the Christi's daughter had left to pursue her law degree in Los Angeles, Mrs. Christi had cried for days. And now she was positively beaming.
"That'll be forty-three fifty, please."
"I hear Sharon is making quite the name for herself." Out of nowhere, my dad sidled in beside me, resting one arm on the countertop. I kept my attention on the money the older woman had handed me rather than listen to her and my father talk about how wonderful Mrs. Christi's daughter was.
Not that I had anything against Sharon; she was quite lovely. My issue came with what happened whenever my father heard success stories like the one Mrs. Christi was happily chattering on about.
"Ah, yes," my father drawled. "If Madison's head hadn't been so full of that dancing nonsense, she too might've had her degree now." Laughing as if he hadn't just broken my heart in two, my dad gripped my shoulder and gave me a playful shake. "Ain't that right?"
I tried to smile; I really did, but my mouth refused to give an inch. "Right," I echoed softly and instantly cursed myself for feeling so small. Yeah, so maybe I didn't have a success story but at least I'd tried.
That had to count for something.
Across from me, Mrs. Christi gave me a sympathetic smile. I swear, I hated that even more. I didn't want people feeling sorry for me. "You two have a good day now." She gave me one last look before snatching her bag off the counter and stepping onto the sidewalk.
Once I was certain she was out of earshot, I twisted and pinned my dad with a stare. "I really wish you'd stop saying things like that."
"Like what?" He studied me as if he had no idea what I was talking about. I looked into those eyes that were the same shade as my own and felt something inside me twist and stab. I'd always been daddy's girl until I came home one day and told him I wanted to dance.
His reaction had been startling to say the least and when he told me that I would go to business school even if he had to drag me there himself, I went.
Until…
The bell above the door dinged, alerting us to a new customer. My dad's wrinkly fingers worked back and forth over his thick, gray eyebrows. "Just do your job, Madison." The words had barely left his mouth before he turned around and ambled away.
That was pretty much how the rest of my day went, and by the time we closed the store, I was too wired to go straight home. Choosing to leave my car where it was, I walked the two blocks to the one place I knew would sooth my restless soul.
All around me people were milling about. Couples hand in hand. Families strolling to their favorite dinner spot. And there I was feeling more alone than ever. Just because my family didn't—or rather refused to—understand that my passion differed from theirs.
Right as the melancholy settled in my chest, the little dance studio I'd practiced at since I was eight came into view. Nestled between Mrs. McDower's bookstore and Mr. Purdy's trinket shop, the glass-paneled space was my own slice of heaven.
I came to a stop in front of the studio and took a moment to take it in. The wall of windows had a slight tint to them, allowing the maximum amount of light to spill inside while keeping the dancers obscured from the outside world.
Anxious to escape, I reached for the handle but before I had a grasp on it, the door flew open and the owner, Lucetta, stepped out. "Maddie. Hi." She immediately pulled me in for a hug that I had no idea I needed. One I greedily took and held on to for a few seconds longer before stepping back.
"Closing up?" I asked, eyeing the purse slung over her shoulder.
"I was supposed to leave an hour ago, but the books took a bit longer than I would have liked."
Nibbling on my lip, I nodded tentatively. As much as I needed to work the day out of my system, I didn't want to hold Lucetta up. Maybe I could take Sheldon for a walk on the beach instead.
I was about to say goodbye when she took my hand and squeezed. "What's bothering you?"
A rueful smile touched my lips. "It's just been one of those days.
" I didn't need to elaborate; Lucetta knew how my parents felt about me dancing.
When I'd still trained with her, I'd arrived at the studio in tears more times than I'd cared to count.
Her answer to those tears had always been to tell me to dance through my feelings.
"I'm sorry, honey." Her focus shifted to the keys she was fiddling with.
"I wish I could tell you it gets easier, but some people are just too set in their ways.
" It was her turn to look sad and I knew it had something to do with her mother.
She'd never told me specifics and I'd never pried, but from the little I could gather, I knew our stories were similar.
"Here." She jerked her chin toward her hand between us. A small copper key was clutched between her thumb and index finger.
I had a pretty good idea what it was, still, I asked, "What's this?"
"You can use the studio whenever you want. Just be sure to lock up when you're done." She nudged me with the key. "And maybe spread the word about the new fitness classes twice a week?"
"You're sure you don't mind?"
"I offered, didn't I?" Lucetta grabbed my hand and set the key inside my palm and closed my fingers around it. "I've got a bottle of Merlot and a fantastic TV dinner waiting for me, so I have gotta run." Along with the meaningful stare she aimed my way, her warm hand squeezed tight over mine.
No words were needed. She understood how desperately my soul needed this. "Thank you," I breathed on a shaky exhale.
Giving me a gentle tap against the cheek, she smiled sweetly. "You can thank me by never changing your dreams for anyone." With that, she spun around and made her way to her car, each of her impossibly long legs moving with grace and elegance.
With a final wave, she pulled away from the curb and I finally stepped into the studio. I dropped my purse to the floor and toed off my pumps before pulling the polo with Young's Hardware etched on the breast pocket over my head.
Standing in a pair of black leggings and my sports bra, I scrolled through my phone until Christina Perri's Human filtered through the tiny speakers. After setting the device on Lucetta's table in the corner, I moved to the middle of the polished floor.
Closing my eyes, I lowered my chin to my chest and slowly rolled my head first left then right. My shoulders came next. Then I shook out my legs. Eyes still shut, I took a deep breath, letting the lyrics and beat lead me.
I flew through the air; kicked and spun until I was too tired to move another muscle. Because when my body had no energy, I wouldn't be able to wallow in the sad fact that the people I loved most couldn't accept me for who I was.