Chapter 19 #2
Come to think of it, during the initial humiliating confrontation, Madeline had mentioned something about her working part-time, if she liked the job, after she’d paid off what she owed.
It just hadn’t occurred to her that Madeline was remotely serious.
She thought she was merely trying to make it seem less like charity or whatever.
“I yelled and swore at you.”
Madeline smiled, but it wasn’t a happy look. “I’ve heard—and said—worse. But yeah, it wasn’t okay, and it can’t happen again.”
“But . . . you told me to take the day off. Or rather, to make it a couple.”
“Oh, now this conversation makes sense.” Madeline’s face softened. “You took that as me letting you go? I’m sorry. I should’ve been clearer, but my own temper was starting to spark. You seemed to be having a terrible day . . . I literally just meant I thought you needed a couple days to yourself.”
Say what now? Let me get this straight. She is apologizing to you? Angel asked.
Vic shared her inner voice’s disbelief. Totally.
Is she nuts or just crazy? Devil added, and Vic wondered the same thing. Yet, she wasn’t going to shoot down her opportunity. Not this time.
Vic laughed. She actually laughed! And a tiny flicker of what—happiness? Maybe even joy—flared within her. “So, what you’re saying is . . . I’m not fired?”
“Not fired, no.” Madeline scrutinized Vic for a moment. “But please don’t be one of those people who mistake kindness for weakness. It’s not, I’m not—and this was a one-time gaffe, right?”
“Got it. Crystal clear. And I won’t slip up again. I want the job. I’ll work any hours you want me to. I’ll do any grunge work, and—”
Madeline held up her hand. “We share the grunge work around here.”
“Okay, noted.” Vic grinned her toothiest, most ridiculous grin.
Then caught herself catching flies as her mother would say and covered her mouth.
She finally took a sip of her tea. It tasted delicious, even nearly cold, and felt wonderful on her parched-from-talking-and-anxiety throat.
“Seriously though . . . I’m so grateful, but please, tell me why.
It literally keeps me up at night. Why would you do this for me?
Why are you so freakishly kind? Too kind, I think a lot of people might agree. ”
Madeline considered the question so long that it became slightly uncomfortable.
Then her shoulders sagged, and she heaved a sigh that suggested she’d made some inner decision.
“I don’t know if you know, but my husband, my only child—my daughter Lauren—and my sister who was my best friend all died at the same time. Car accident.”
“Oh my God,” Vic said, heartsick for Madeline and sickened by her own selfishness. She’d gone through absolutely nothing compared to that.
“Anyway . . . ever since then,” Madeline’s voice roughened, “I don’t care. Like, about so many things . . . I just don’t give a shit.”
Gwen startled and her mouth opened to object, and Vic didn’t buy it either. Madeline held up a hand as if sensing they were going to interrupt.
“I mean about social norms, etiquette, and ‘rules’ for human interaction. Life is excruciatingly hard sometimes, and pretty much the only thing I do care about now is people and what they go through—and animals. If I can make someone’s road even a little bit easier, well .
. . good. All I care about is how I treat other people and show up in the world.
” She grimaced and rolled her eyes. “Ugh. Sounds so gross and pretentious out loud, I know.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Gwen said. “It’s beautiful—and it’s you to a T.”
Vic sniffled through full sinuses.
Madeline’s wry smile was back in place. “So yeah, if I give someone a chance and they burn me, if I lose my shirt, if they don’t like me, if, if, if .
. .” She shrugged. “So much of what we worry about is nonsense. I can’t be bothered.
You want to steal, that’s your issue. You want to repress and people-please until everything bursts out of you inappropriately? That’s also yours.”
Madeline paused to take a deep breath, and Gwen and Vic, who was slightly stunned, stayed quiet.
“Mostly, though, it was because when I looked in your eyes, I recognized what I saw there—grief. It was like looking in a mirror a few years ago.”
Vic inhaled sharply, painfully.
Madeline’s head bobbed. “I know what it’s like to feel like you’re drowning and like you’d do anything for even a moment’s respite from pain, so let’s just say you don’t have a corner on being a shitshow, and I was . . . sympathetic.”
Gwen was nodding. “There’s so much to survive in life.”
Boots materialized, seemingly out of nowhere, and bumped his broad head against Madeline’s calf. She reached down and rubbed his ears. The cat immediately commenced a gravelly purr. “This guy was definitely a huge help to me.”
Vic’s eyes welled, but she hid it by taking another sip of tea.
It was incredibly kind of Madeline to even remotely suggest they were, in some way, the same.
Deep down, though, Vic knew they weren’t.
A woman like Madeline, who spoke her mind, always went with her gut, and had a strong moral code, would never have made the mistakes Vic had.
She would never have been the other woman.
If anyone really knew you—
They’d hate me, I know.
But even the familiar litany of self-abuse couldn’t completely destroy her mood. She hadn’t lost her second chance at the Second Chance Shop.
Plus, they know quite a bit about me and, well, they haven’t shunned me yet . . . The realization was a bit of a shock.
“I always thought that by this age, I’d have dealt with my shit,” Vic said a little shakily, picking up her teacup again. “But nope, I’m just getting started.”
“Right?” Gwen said. “It’s because there are so many layers. We don’t even really know what our shit is till we’re older.”
“True story,” Vic agreed, wondering if she’d ever understand Gwen and Madeline’s grace toward her.
Madeline raised her cup. “I’ll drink to that too.”
Boots, apparently needing to be in on the action, bumped Madeline’s calf again—then came over and did the same to Vic. He’d never done that before. The gentle thud of his velvety-soft cranium was surprisingly comforting or encouraging or something. Like a fist bump from a human.
“Well, look at that,” Madeline said, then peered at Vic thoughtfully. “That’s something to consider for sure.”
“What is?”
Gwen laughed. “She’s saying you should get a cat. But she thinks that about everyone.”
“As ever, she’s not wrong.”
Vic felt a bit giddy. It was like getting affirmation about the very idea she’d had herself.
They were tidying their tea dishes away when Vic had to ask—she couldn’t help herself. “If I hadn’t apologized today, had chickened out . . . What would you have done?”
Madeline looked bemused. “Done?” Her dimples showed. “Well, nothing, of course. What could I do? You’re in charge of you—but we wouldn’t be enemies or anything. I’d still want you to eat, just not at my table.”
Vic gaped. “Madeline Hart, you did not just quote Tupac at me!”
Madeline burst out laughing. “I had to, Vic. You’re taking your little freak out far too seriously.”
“It’s a great quote—and attitude,” Gwen said, “but who’s Tupac?”