Chapter 3
DAMIANO
After responding to Madison’s “Happy Thanksgiving” text, I dial Ironwood Security.
“Ironwood Security, this is Joe.”
I recognize his voice. “Squid, this is Damiano. How are you?”
“Good, I’m good. Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Thanks, same to you. Look, I’m calling about one of your clients.”
“Is this about your girlfriend?” I can imagine him smirking. “You know we’re locked down from giving you any information.”
“I know.” It makes sense, but it is frustrating to be viewed as a threat. “This is merely a matter of courtesy. I’ll be supplementing Madison Greene’s security with guards of my own.”
“Full-time?”
“Full-time. They’ll be on the grounds round the clock.”
“Understood,” Squid says. “Is the client aware of this addition?”
I pause. “Not yet.”
SETH
Madison looks so pale next to me on my parents’ front porch, I worry she might faint.
Another car is parked on the street—I think the Dannigs are already inside.
“We can turn around at any time,” I whisper. “I haven’t rung the doorbell yet. They probably don’t even know we’re here.”
“No, I can do this.” She squeezes my hand. “But are you sure I look okay?”
I evaluate her outfit—a modest brown sweater dress, tucked in at her waist with a dark green belt which brings out the green of her eyes. Her brown hair is pulled back from her face in a simple braid. Her only jewelry are tiny gold hoops in her ears and her great-aunt’s ring on her finger.
“You look amazing.” I squeeze her hand back. “Don’t worry about a thing, all right?”
If things go bad, I have several excuses on the tip of my tongue. Migraine. Work emergency. Earthquake in Argentina. Emergency repairs needed on the Nove building. I could go on and on. I brainstormed even more excuses as I lay awake last night.
I have an ugly feeling in my gut. Despite my mother’s reassurances at lunch on Monday, I believe something will go wrong.
Before I can stop her, Madison reaches forward and jabs the doorbell.
Shit. There’s no going back now.
Footsteps sound from inside, then the door swings open and I’m facing my father.
His blue eyes rake over me, then Madison.
For the longest time, he doesn’t say anything.
Then he smiles—somewhat forced—and gives me a bro hug, one-armed, before clapping me on the shoulder.
“I’m glad you could make it, son. Madison, glad you can be here, too. ”
She shakes his proffered hand. “Thank you for having me.”
There is no reference to the fact she used to be his daughter-in-law. No mention of Kyle. No mention of how she’s dating me.
And maybe that’s for the best. This evening will be much easier if we can all start fresh.
My father invites us in, so we follow him down the hall and into the sitting room.
The house smells like turkey and stuffing, the spices and onions filling my nose.
I don’t think I’ve ever smelled my parents’ house like this.
It’s strange to be having a Thanksgiving dinner at all, much less with my parents who never had much patience for these kinds of occasions.
In the sitting room, the Dannigs are gathered along with my mother, glasses of wine in hand. Everyone stands at once to greet us.
Bob Dannig is taller than most NBA players. His head of red hair bears more white than I remember, but otherwise he seems unchanged from my childhood. He has a booming laugh, which he lets loose now.
“Madison. I remember seeing you at the wedding, although we didn’t have a chance to talk.” He shakes her hand. “It’s good to see you again.”
“You, too.” She shakes his hand, then Renata’s.
Eliza, their daughter, has curly, auburn hair and a wide smile. She gives Madison an awkward hug. “Hey. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
Madison’s smile is pinched. “Yeah, it has. I hope you’ve been doing good?”
Everything is so strained. I’m usually immune to tense social situations, but I’m feeling everything as Madison might be feeling it, and I don’t like it in the slightest.
“Madison, welcome,” Mom says. “Would you mind helping me with something in the kitchen real quick? We’ll get you some wine, and I’ll return you to Seth soon after.”
“Sure.” Madison gives me a brave smile and trails my mother into the other room.
This better be that apology my mother promised to give her.
“So.” Renata pats her brown hair. It’s a similar style to my mother’s, shoulder-length. Unlike Mom, Renata has some gray streaks that she doesn’t hide with dye. She takes a sip of her white wine. “You and Madison are together, now?”
“Yes. We reconnected recently.” Obviously I won’t say where or when—that isn’t anyone else’s business. If they ask, I’ll make something up about a gym or grocery store. Madison and I should’ve gotten our story straight ahead of time.
And I can see the questions on their faces.
“How have you all been?” I ask Renata. “Are you still living in Dorado Heights?”
“Yes, although Eliza just got a nice place in Salding.” She turns to look at her daughter. “It isn’t far from Seth’s Nove building, is it?”
Eliza nods. “It’s a few blocks away. It’s a really up-and-coming area, close to everything. I’m really loving it.”
“Pretty soon, Salding will give Dorado Heights a run for its money as the most sought-after neighborhood in San Esteban.” Bob laughs, even though he didn’t say anything particularly amusing.
Boredom is better than drama, I remind myself. False laughter is better than glowering tension or screaming matches.
Madison returns to the sitting room. “Hey, everyone. Sonia wanted me to tell you that dinner is ready.”
We meander into the dining room. The table is set beautifully, with a simple, rust-colored tablecloth and Mom and Dad’s wedding china set. Two candles are lit at each end. I make sure to sit next to Madison. Otherwise, I don’t care who I sit next to.
It ends up being Renata on the other side of me. She glances between Madison and me. “You two make an attractive couple.”
“Thanks,” Madison says. “I feel pretty lucky that we ran into each other again. How did you and Bob meet?”
The conversation meanders as we eat. Throughout the meal, we share different things we’re thankful for over the past year. Mom talks about gratitude for family time, which is laughable. But it’s also, I think, somewhat genuine.
“I’m grateful I got to raise two sons,” Dad says next.
The table goes quiet. Kyle’s memory lingers like a specter, hovering somewhere between the turkey and the mashed potatoes.
It isn’t that Kyle shouldn’t be mentioned—he should. We all miss him. But with Madison and I here together, his mention feels extra charged.
“Kyle was such a nice boy,” Renata says. “And you two were such close friends.”
I frown, wondering why she’d say something like that to Madison, his widow, before I realize she’s talking to Eliza.
“That’s right,” Mom jumps in. “The two of you were thick as thieves. Always meeting up for one thing or another.”
“Right.” Eliza, sitting across the table from Madison and me, shifts uneasily in her chair.
“Sometimes I hung out with you, too,” Madison says, trying to rescue her. “We were all pretty close.”
My mother smirks. “It’s lucky for you that he had Eliza in his life. He had to vent sometimes, didn’t he?”
“I—” Madison sends me a panicked look.
I glare at my mother. She needs to shut this down, not encourage it to continue.
Oblivious, Renata shakes her head, smiling. “The number of times he came over around midnight, his motorcycle revving in the driveway….”
Kyle didn’t get a motorcycle until after he and Madison were married. From Madison’s expression, she wasn’t aware of those midnight visits with Eliza.
“You’re making it sound like he did that all the time.” Eliza frowns at her mother. “I think he came over once, maybe twice, late at night.” To Madison, she adds, “It was only because he needed to talk, I swear.”
“Right,” Madison says slowly. “Of course.” There’s a high pitch to her voice—she’s trying to hide that she’s upset.
How could they do this to my brave, kind girl?
“That’s enough.” I stand abruptly. “I’m not feeling very well all of a sudden. I have to excuse myself. Madison, would you mind very much leaving early?”
“I—um, not at all. Sure.” She nods frantically, her green eyes shiny with unshed tears. “Of course. Thank you for dinner. Happy Thanksgiving.”
I don’t have a word to spare for anyone in that room.
This was a fucking set-up. I don’t know what the fuck everyone was trying to accomplish, but Madison and I walked right into it.
Now, we’re walking out. Forever.