Chapter Three
Madison
“This is almost two thousand dollars!” Madison said, shock making her voice shake.
The new life she had begun to build for the children started to collapse under the weight of the new debt. She felt her vision begin to darken and she sat down suddenly on Helen’s sofa while the children played nearby.
“You didn’t get a notice, dear?” Helen asked, placing an unsteady hand over her collarbones.
“No. I got nothing,” Madison said faintly. “There was nothing. I didn’t even think about property taxes.”
She looked up at the old woman in despair. “How could I be so stupid?”
She felt the tears collect in her eyes as she stared at the bill. She could lose the house. “Rob always took care of all the taxes and things. I just…I didn’t even think…” She stopped and looked at her again. “I’ve got one hundred and thirty-two dollars in my checking account. That’s it.”
Helen sat beside her and patted her hand. “Everything is going to be fine. Don’t you worry. I’ve got a little money saved up. It’s not much, but it might help with—”
“No,” Madison said firmly, cutting her off. “I can’t take your money. I won’t.”
She knew the old woman barely made ends meet as it was, and it didn’t help that she only charged Madison a pittance for child care. She couldn’t take anything else from her.
“What about government benefits?” Helen asked gently.
The shame of applying for state benefits made her want to curl up into a ball and never leave her house again. It made her feel like a failure, but she also felt as if she wasn’t in need enough for that. Those funds should go to people who truly needed them.
She was doing just fine, except for this one crappy thing.
No. She could figure it out on her own.
“No. I can take care of this. I know I can,” she said, picking at her nails and watching little Emmie trying to roll over in the playpen.
“How? You’re spread thin as it is!”
“Mom! Look what we did!” Jackson said, tearing into the room with James hot on his heels.
“Oh, dear!” Helen said.
Madison looked at their paint-covered faces and arms, about to scold them for making such a mess. When they pulled their hands out from behind their backs, the words died in her throat.
They had painted pictures.
Jackson’s was sweet. They were all there lined up in front of the house. There were flowers and, inexplicably, little Emmie in a cage that she hoped was supposed to be a crib.
James had painted himself and his father, larger than anything else.
She burst into tears.
∞∞∞
It took her two days to work up the courage to ask Christian for more hours.
She waited behind the register for the customers to file through and pay, and when they were gone and only the browsers remained, she approached her aloof boss in his office—a tiny room roughly the size of a broom closet.
He frowned at her from behind the desk. She didn’t usually bother him while he worked in here. His expression was almost enough to send her packing.
“Madison? Is something wrong?” he asked, pulling off his glasses and cleaning the lenses before replacing them.
Papers were scattered on the top of his desk and his calculator was close at hand. She had either caught him at the best—or worst—possible time.
“Uh. I thought maybe I could talk to you if you have a moment?” she asked from the doorway.
He stared at her and she couldn’t read his expression. He was a stern man and usually reserved his rare smiles for his brother’s children, but he usually had a bit less forbidding expression for her. Having that look directed at her was unsettling, though she knew he meant nothing by it.
“Yes?”
“Well, I…have a situation. There’s…I…need money. To pay a bill. Taxes,” she stammered out. “Property taxes.”
You sound like an idiot!
He sat back in his chair, tapping his fingertips together as he considered what she had said. His face looked grave.
“I’m not asking for a raise!” she said quickly, holding up her hands. “I just wondered if I could get more hours…maybe…full-time…for a while?” she asked, hating the anxiety she felt.
“Madison…” he started, leaning forward again and resting his elbows on his desk. He stopped and considered what he was about to say, and she knew it wasn’t going to be good.
“I can’t give you any more hours. In fact, if I’m completely honest, I can’t even afford the hours you have now. The shop is not going under, but we’re in a recession, and with the inflation, people are spending less and they certainly aren’t buying books when they can’t even afford food.”
He looked tired and she noticed the circles under his eyes. “I wish I could hire you full-time. I wish I could give you a raise. You are a wonderful worker and the way you care for your kids…well, if anyone deserves more, it’s you.”
She slumped against the door, accepting the praise with a defeated smile. She couldn’t speak, her throat was too full.
“I could loan you the money,” he said, tentatively, but she knew every extra cent he had went to his brother’s family. His sister-in-law was battling cancer, and the medical bills were more than they could afford.
“No, thank you though. I appreciate the thought,” she assured him before leaving.
She barely made it to the bathroom before the sobs burst from her chest. It all crowded in—all the agony and the despair and the uncertainty of the last year and a half.
Every part of it hurt.
∞∞∞
“No, see here? You’ve got to multiply both of these to get an equivalent fraction. What you do to the numerator, you have to apply to the denominator,” she explained to Ellie.
Ellie frowned and nodded before correcting the mistake.
“Okay, did you practice your factor trees like I showed you?” Madison asked, trying to put everything else out of her mind and give Ellie’s math lesson her full attention. It wouldn’t be fair to the girl to compromise her education just because she was feeling hopeless.
This was Ellie’s future.
“Yep,” Ellie said, pulling her notebook from her binder and showing her mom.
Madison studied the little girl’s work, noting the precise writing and the accuracy. “Very good!”
Ellie beamed and was about to ask something when Jackson crawled under the table and shot up into a chair. “I think you need to teach me about denominations,” he said seriously.
“Denominators,” Madison corrected, hiding a smile. “And I will.”
“When?” he demanded.
“Soon.”
“That’s very vague, Madison,” he said, propping his chin on his hands.
She snorted. “You’re seven and you don’t know your multiplication tables yet. You’re too young for ‘denominations’ and I’m your mother. You don’t call your mother by her first name.”
“You did,” Ellie said.
Madison frowned. “That’s different.”
“If I can divide a sandwich into quarters for me and James, then I think I can handle some numberators,” he argued.
Madison smiled. “I think you’re right. I’ll start teaching you fractions. I’m sorry, Jacks. I’m just a bit tired tonight.”
“Cool beans,” he said, making Ellie laugh.
They bickered back and forth about schoolwork while Madison cleaned up the supplies and started on supper. Emmie was napping, but she’d be awake again soon. The older she got, the more she was awake. She was also hitting a growth spurt and wanted to eat more often than usual.
She hoped her milk supply didn’t start to suffer from her slight calorie restriction and poor nutrition. She had extra pounds to spare, but the kids needed every vitamin and mineral they could get.
It all felt like too much sometimes. Most nights she was so tired by the end that she nodded off while sitting up.
“James!” she called, noticing the boy had been quieter than usual.
When he didn’t come, she got worried. He might be difficult and somewhat closed off from her, but he always came when she called. He liked stirring the pasta or bringing her ingredients.
She checked the stove, turning the burner down to simmer before leaving.
“Ellie, can you help Jack read while I check on Em and find James?”
Ellie nodded importantly while Jackson melted down into his chair and disappeared under the table. She ducked under a moment later and then she heard Jackson’s voice as he began reading.
Emmie was awake and happy to see her when she went into her room. She grinned at the baby, who gave her a large toothless smile that lifted her spirits. She changed her dirty diaper and then laid her back down with a rattle to look at while she went to find James.
The house was large. There were five bedrooms and three bathrooms. She kept Emmie in her room even though she had a nursery because it was easier for the night feedings. The boys shared a room, Ellie had her own, and they all shared a bathroom. The last bedroom was a guest room with an attached bath.
She briefly considered taking on a tenant to help bring in more cash, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. It was dangerous to bring strangers into the house with the children, and she didn’t know if she could trust someone enough to leave them here alone while she worked.
So, the room sat empty.
Now, she checked it for signs of James after finding the boys’ messy room empty. It looked like a bomb had gone off, followed by a tornado, and she was going to have to make sure they picked up as much as they could before bed.
She waded through the old and broken cars, scattered blankets, and landmine legos on her way to check their closet. The door was wedged open by the pillow fort one of them had built inside, but when she checked it, it was empty.
After she’d checked everywhere, she began to panic and went to pick Emmie up while she grabbed her phone. “Ellie, have you seen James?”
She struggled to contain the fear in her voice.
“He was going into your room the last time I saw him,” she said, poking her head out from under the table.
Madison rushed into her room, discounting the space under her bed immediately. It was full of stuff. She checked her bathroom and then her closet, feeling the flutterings of fear crowding her thoughts.
It was in the closet that she finally found him.
Relief flooded her as she watched the small boy breathe deeply as he curled up on the floor under Rob’s clothes. She laid Em back in her crib for a moment and went inside the closet.
She wanted to cry looking at her small boy who felt abandoned by his father and refused her comfort. Her heart ached for him and she wished there was something she could do to ease his pain.
She bundled him up and he sleepily laid his head on her shoulder. His slim weight was familiar in her arms and she did cry then when she realized how long it had been since she had held him like this.
He”d been a toddler.
She cried silently, not daring to wake him up just yet, and savored the contact as long as she could. Eventually, Em started to lose patience with cooing and started to fuss.
James woke up groggily and looked at her before wanting to be put down.
“Mommy? Is it time to eat?” he asked with childish disregard for her emotions. He poked his finger at Em’s fist through the bars. He smiled as the baby latched on to his finger with her tiny hand.
He was a very rough and boisterous boy, but he’d never been anything but gentle with baby Em. He’d taken it upon himself to watch out for her, much as Ellie watched out for him and Jack.
It was a little moment that warmed her heart and pushed away some of the pain.
It was enough to allow her to function until bedtime when she could cry in relative solitude with Emmie offering her comfort in the form of her new baby smiles.
∞∞∞
“I found this at the market,” Helen said. “It was just put on the bulletin board there this morning and Mr. Holcombe tipped me off after I complimented his butt.”
Madison took the advertisement and frowned. “I can’t do this!” she said, staring at the old woman in dismay.
“Why not? It’s respectable work and they pay weekly!” she said, tapping the paper and putting her hands on her hips.
“But they want an experienced cook, with an education, and…and references!” Madison said. “And what would I do with the children?”
The children, all except for Emmie, were watching the drama in front of them like a tennis match.
“You could send us to live in a boxcar!” Jackson volunteered seriously, raising his hand.
“What?” Madison asked, momentarily sidetracked.
“We could take Emmie and go live in a boxcar in the woods. Of course, you’d have to come to feed her because she can’t eat bread…” he said frowning.
“We read The Boxcar Children last night,” Ellie explained, her finger holding her place in her tattered and much-loved copy of Little Women.
“Madison Lane, are you telling me that you can’t cook?” Helen asked, lifting an eyebrow.
“Of course I can cook, but I highly doubt they want to eat macaroni and cheese or pancakes with mouse ears for supper!” she said, exasperated.
“Oh, come on. You cooked for Rob! How hard can it be? Just quadruple the recipes,” she said, waving off Madison’s objections. “Look at that pay. You won’t find that good a deal anywhere else around here for the hours they’re wanting.”
“What about the education? They want a culinary degree and experience. I don’t have either, not formally.”
Helen’s face turned calculating and serious. “Madison, this is your children we are talking about. If you don’t want to lose their home, then you are going to have to get over your scruples.”
“What would you have me do?”
“Lie,” Helen said quietly. “Lie and do a damned good job of it and hope they don’t check your references until you’ve got that money saved up.”
“Miss Helen said damn!” James said, snickering.
Madison looked at the other kids, who were staring with wide eyes.
“Don’t say damn,” she told James, worried about him picking up the foul language, but more worried about her predicament.
It would go against everything she believed in and valued to lie. It would go against her morals and her vows to raise her children right, to raise them to be honest and have integrity…to be everything that their father had turned out not to be.
She couldn’t do it.
“I’m sorry. I can’t. I can’t lie. I’ll find something else.”
She gathered the kids up, thinking of the seventy-three dollars that now rested in her account after buying a loaf of bread, some lunchmeat, a bag of apples, a gallon of milk, toilet paper, diapers, and putting a quarter of a tank of gas in her car.
“I hear Mickey D’s is hiring!” Helen called out before the door closed.
Madison gritted her teeth. She loved Helen, but sometimes the woman could be downright obnoxious. She buried the paper in her purse and shifted Emmie’s carrier to the other hand.