Chapter Three #2
Maddie knew this was a silly way to think.
Her heart belonged to social care. It always had.
Maddie, who was typically shy and avoided social situations, switched instantly in ‘professional mode’ the moment there was someone she needed to look after.
She had good instincts and strong values, a soft heart and a brain brimming with knowledge.
She loved caring for people and she thoroughly enjoyed being at home.
She was combining her two favourite things and she absolutely knew it was the right thing to do.
A huge part of her worry and frustration was fostered by her eagerness to finish the ‘getting ready’ part and plunge knee-deep into the actual caring.
She was thoroughly overwhelmed. Most days, she couldn’t see the wood for the trees. Today was one of them.
She visited Bowie’s old bedroom last, pausing trepidatiously at the door.
She hated this room, not because she didn’t want to be there, but because it was the only place she did want to be.
Some days, when her mood was particularly low, she was genuinely afraid she’d barricade the door and trap herself in there.
She sighed, forcing herself to enter. The winter sun had bid farewell and the sky was moonless and cloud-covered.
The bedroom was empty and pitch-black. Its emptiness didn’t startle her the way it usually did.
For a few blissful seconds, she could pretend her brother was there, just a few feet away, sleeping in his bed.
She inhaled deeply. She knew it was impossible, but she was sure she could smell Bowie’s cologne — sweet and spicy — every time she ventured here.
She was afraid to paint, she realised, in case she covered up the scent.
She forced herself to hit the light switch, bathing the nothingness in a soft orange glow.
This room was the biggest in the house, stretching right across the back of the property.
It had been Bowie’s and Marley’s room, then Bowie’s and Autumn’s, then Autumn’s, Marley’s and Benjamin’s.
Maddie scoffed inwardly. If these walls could talk.
Maddie loved Autumn and Marley with all her might, but every now and then she would become suddenly outraged by what they’d done to Bowie.
And this was despite the fact Maddie knew Autumn and Marley being together was, in the absence of Bowie, for the best. Autumn’s and Marley’s betrayal was a serendipitous event that cemented them together and had kept them together ever since.
But Maddie, the family’s biggest believer in fate and destiny, sometimes struggled to find beauty in their story.
* * *
“I haven’t been in here in years.”
Maddie turned to find Autumn standing behind her in the open doorway. Every negative feeling she had dissolved in an instant. She opened her arms and Autumn marched straight into them. They tried to lift each other at the same time, bursting into giggles when their synchronisation got them nowhere.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” Maddie said. She pulled away, rubbing her friend’s arms affectionately before she dropped her completely.
Autumn pointedly rolled her eyes. “We came through the orangery.”
“Benjamin?” Maddie grinned.
“Benjamin.” Autumn nodded. “That piglet is all he’s gone on about since Marley mentioned him yesterday.”
Maddie laughed. “He’s a Whittle through and through.”
Autumn nodded her head, sighing happily.
Maddie felt a twinge of guilt for her asinine thoughts.
Autumn was one of the best things that had ever happened to the Whittles.
She had given Bowie so much joy, given Marley a reason to live, given them all Benjamin.
Though she’d been Bluebell’s best friend, really, Maddie and Autumn had bonded over the shared experience of helping Bowie end his pain and built a firm friendship of their own.
In fact, as Autumn was introverted Maddie’s only friend, she was her best friend by default.
Consumed with a sudden sense of gratitude, Maddie fought the urge to pull her friend into another hug. Right on cue, Autumn stepped away from her. She turned in a circle, staring wistfully at her former bedroom. “What’s the plan for in here?” she asked.
“I don’t know yet,” Maddie said. Autumn smiled sympathetically.
She was staring at the spot where Bowie’s bed had once been, her eyes glistening with tears.
Maddie and Autumn hardly ever talked about Bowie in the context of him dying.
Their conversations were always about the things he’d said or done that had made them laugh, or how fully he’d lived life before he’d been given his terminal diagnosis, right before meeting Autumn.
For some reason, it felt appropriate tonight.
“I miss him so much,” Maddie said, knowing she echoed Autumn’s thoughts.
“Me too,” Autumn whispered, touching her lips with her fingertips.
Maddie tried not to think about how confused Autumn must feel about the way she’d adored Bowie and the way she loved his twin brother.
She bet she also pretended there were two versions of herself.
Bowie’s girlfriend, Marley’s girlfriend.
They were the same wonderful, glorious person, but they were also two very distinct people.
“Has it really been six years?” Autumn asked, shaking her head in disbelief.
Maddie nodded sadly.
“We were only together for six months. Can you believe that? He’s been gone twelve times longer than I even knew him.
” Autumn’s tears spilled over. Maddie didn’t know how to respond.
She wondered how she would feel in thirty years, when she’d lived more life without Bowie than she had with him.
Still heartbroken, most likely. Broken in the way Autumn was.
Like a mug with no handle, still functional in the way everyone needs you to be, but with a vital bit of you, the part that makes things easier, missing.
Maddie stepped towards Autumn, holding her hand out for her friend to take.
It was the permission Autumn needed to dissolve.
She had not been raised in a home bursting with affection, the way the Whittles had, so she resisted at first when Maddie pulled her into a hug, shaking her head and covering her face with the sleeve of her jacket.
“I love Marley so much, please don’t think I don’t,” she mumbled into Maddie’s shoulder.
“Autumn, you never shut up about him. Nobody who has known you for more than two minutes could ever accuse you of not loving Marley,” Maddie joked.
Autumn tittered a little bit, to Maddie’s relief.
She couldn’t stand seeing anyone cry, never mind someone she loved.
They stood in silence for a minute, embracing.
Maddie was waiting. Her friend never wallowed for long.
She hated showing anyone her true emotions, so Maddie knew Autumn would simply have to ruin this moment somehow. It was only a matter of time.
“Who’s the sexy wheelbarrow-toting bastard in the garden?” she murmured eventually.
* * *
They were sitting in the kitchen with mugs of cocoa when the ‘sexy bastard’ in question popped his head around the door and declared he was leaving. Maddie nodded a farewell, but he’d already gone.
“What the fuck was that?” Autumn asked, stuffing a marshmallow in her mouth.
Maddie tried to act innocent. “What was what?”
“Why was he so frosty with you?” Autumn frowned. Maddie opened her mouth to speak, but Autumn cut her off. “Don’t lie to me, Maddie. I’ll know.”
Desperate to buy herself a few seconds to consider how to phrase her confession, Maddie sighed and tried to sip her cocoa at the same time, accidentally blowing a mini chocolate tidal wave over the rim of her cup instead. “Smooth.” Autumn giggled.
“I did something pretty shit,” Maddie admitted, wiping at her jeans with her sweater sleeve.
Her friend was visibly confused. “He’s only worked here a day, hasn’t he?”
Maddie nodded.
Autumn laughed. “How’ve you managed to piss him off already?”
“I pretended Bowie was still alive when he asked about him yesterday. He asked Mum this morning where Bowie was and what he was up to these days. Mum got upset, so I had to confess. Now he’s raging at me.
” Autumn blinked pointedly, her mouth agape.
Maddie guiltily folded her lips in on themselves and nodded. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” she asked.
“I mean . . .” Autumn started, drawing in a giant breath as though she was going to launch into a sermon before blowing it out exasperatedly.
She shook her head at her friend and softened her stance, reaching to pat Maddie’s hand.
“I’m not going to force you to talk about why you’re still doing that after all these years, but I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t tell you it really isn’t normal. ”
Maddie nodded sadly, staring into her cocoa. She felt small enough to jump into the mug and drown.
“Your mother is a saint,” Autumn added. “I don’t think anyone, even someone who has only just met her, would ever be OK with upsetting her. No wonder he’s pissed.”
Maddie groaned and put her head in her hands. “I’m going to have to apologise, aren’t I?”
“Yes,” Autumn said.
“Fuck’s sake.”
“Why is that such a problem?” Autumn asked. “You did something wrong.”
Maddie knew why Autumn was so surprised.
Maddie was very self-aware and not a defensive person at all.
If she owed someone an apology, she would say sorry, even if she didn’t like them.
Her reluctance was a hard confirmation of something she already knew — that she really wasn’t herself at the moment.
“What’s up, Maddie?” Autumn asked, her voice gentle.
“Are you OK? Marley noticed you were quiet last night. He’d kill me for telling you, but he was fretting about it all evening.
I was distracted and thought he was worrying needlessly, you know how he gets, but I can see what he means. Is something on your mind?”
Maddie didn’t know how to explain what she was feeling and that frustrated her.
She couldn’t describe it. She was overwhelmed, but simultaneously consumed by a need to be productive.
She was socially burned out, but she couldn’t stand the thought of going anywhere on her own.
She was lonely, but she had no motivation to date or meet new friends.
These were feelings she’d been experiencing in some capacity ever since they’d lost Bowie, but they’d grown more prominent over the past few weeks, nudging aside the numbness she typically felt and casting her mind into chaos.
Maddie found it unbearable, but she didn’t know how to begin fixing it.
She knew everyone thought she was getting better because they were.
Their laughs were no longer forced and fake, their smiles were genuine and their playfulness full of soul, but despite the fact she was incredibly happy that everyone was slowly moving on, Maddie was feeling worse and worse.
She didn’t want to tell them because she knew it would hurt them — they loved her and desperately wanted her to be happy — so she’d tried to trap the feelings deep within.
Now, she knew it was no good. Her upset had crept from wherever she had shoved it and crawled across her features in front of her brother, manifesting as frustration about the decisions he was making as a parent.
Marley and Autumn were onto her. They knew her too well and were too observant, especially when it came to the mental health of the people they loved.
Autumn often blamed it on being a parent — breaking generational trauma meant she needed to be attuned to Benjamin’s every mood, so she could respond with gentleness and understanding — but her friend had been extremely caring and perceptive since the very early days of their friendship.
Maddie wanted to lie, but there would be no point.
Autumn would know. Maddie felt her eyes fill with tears.
She knew she was wrong to try and deal with this herself but she resolved to stay quiet, even though she knew she was beyond regaining control of her emotions right now.
She was definitely going to cry, so Autumn was going to know something was wrong.
Still, it was better than confessing how bad things actually were. Better than being a bother.
“Oh, Maddie, come here.” Autumn opened her arms and let Maddie fall into them. She felt instantly better. “You don’t have to tell me anything, so long as you’re safe and you know I’m always here for you, no matter what. That’s all I care about.”
Maddie nodded, grateful. She closed her eyes and silently asked for an answer, something to drag her out of the rut she was stuck in, the emotional ditch that had her focusing on all the things she didn’t have instead of what she did. She sighed. She’d be fine, she was sure.