Authors: Rosemary Hines
After school, Miles was waiting for her in the hallway outside of her last class. “Sorry about this morning,” he said. “What happened to you during history?”
“I cut,” she replied, pushing past him and beginning to walk to the bus pick-up area.
“Did you hear me say I’m sorry?” he asked.
She just nodded.
“So is everything okay?” he pressed, as he hurried to walk beside her.
She ignored the question.
Draping his arm over her shoulder, he tried to draw her close. The once welcome feel of his touch now suddenly made her cringe. Rather than leaning into him the way she usually did, she pulled away.
Miles stopped in his tracks. “Madison,” he said. “Look at me, would you?”
She stopped and looked into his eyes. Her heart began to melt as she saw what appeared to be genuine regret.
“Let’s go to your house and make up,” he said hopefully, a twinkle in his eye.
So that was it. He wanted to push the whole thing aside and get back to the passion they’d shared when their bodies came together. Like that would make everything okay.
“I can’t, Miles. I need time.”
“Time for what?” Again the edge crept into his voice.
“Time to think and to figure things out.”
“What’s to figure out? We love each other, right?” he asked.
“I thought we did,” she replied. “But now I’m not so sure.”
He leaned down and kissed her, and her resolve began to melt. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Brianna walking past them with a triumphant smile on her face. Madison pushed away from Miles. “I can’t do this. Not right now.” She walked away, hoping her boyfriend wouldn’t turn and chase after the girl he’d kissed that morning.
A few miles away at Shoreline Manor, Joan and her handful of prayer warriors were meeting for tea and intercession. Joan’s hand trembled a bit as she carefully poured the vanilla brew into her cup after the other ladies helped themselves. Margie had brought her blueberry scones, still warm from the oven, and their aroma filled the tiny apartment.
“Shall we pray?” Clara asked, holding out her hands, which prompted an unbroken chain of solidarity around the tiny kitchen table. With heads bowed, she asked a blessing over their treats and meeting. “Our dear heavenly Father, we are so very thankful for each other and for the blessing of bringing our concerns to this table. Would You please help us intercede for our loved ones? And we want to thank You for these treats. Please bless the hands that prepared them. In the name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, amen.”
“Amen” they all echoed as they gave each other’s hand a squeeze of friendship.
The scones were delicious, and Margie beamed as compliments flowed from the circle of friends. As the last crumbs disappeared, and the teacups were refilled, Joan suggested they begin exchanging requests. She retrieved her prayer journal from the teacart and waited while the other ladies pulled theirs out of purses.
Soon the tabletop was ringed with open books ready for the task at hand. Joan licked the point of her pencil, a habit from further back than she could remember, and wrote today’s date at the top of the next clean page. As the Silver Sisters went around the circle and shared updates on previous requests as well as new ones to add to their journals, Joan tried to focus and keep up. But her mind kept straying to Madison. And her spirit was troubled.
“Isn’t that the truth!” Beverly exclaimed in response to a comment by Clara. “Right, Joan?”
Joan felt her cheeks redden. “I’m so sorry. I missed that.”
“Are you alright, dear?” Margie asked, leaning over and putting a hand on Joan’s arm.
Tears welled up in her eyes, surprising even Joan herself. “It’s Madison,” was all she could choke out.
Her friends all shifted in their chairs and began reaching out, taking Joan’s hands in theirs or resting a hand on her shoulder. “Tell us,” Clara said. “What is it?”
Joan’s heart swelled with love for her friends. Here they were coming alongside just as Phil would have done. It bolstered her courage and resolve. The enemy would not have victory if the Silver Sisters had any say in it! Pouring out her concerns, she shared with her prayer group about how concerned she felt in her spirit about Madison. “I don’t have any details to give you ladies, but something is very wrong. I can feel it here,” she said, pointing to her heart.
Margie cleared her throat and sat up straight and tall. “Madison is going to the top of our list, Sisters!” She turned to Joan and said, “We don’t need to know any details. God sees it all. We’ll just let Him know we are standing in solidarity on her behalf.”
“Amen!” Beverly chimed in, squeezing Joan’s hand. Turning to Clara, the one who loved to give voice to their prayers, Bev asked, “Would you lead us in this one?”
Clara rose to her feet, and the other ladies joined her. Once again linking hands, they all bowed their heads, all except Clara, who raised her face heavenward as she interceded for her friend’s great granddaughter.
When they took their seats again a few moments later, Joan’s heart felt lighter and her pencil was ready to go to work.
“Madison, we need to talk,” Michelle said later that night. “I got a call from school today,” she added as she sat down on the couch beside Maddie. “What’s the deal with cutting history class?”
“I didn’t feel well,” Madison replied, crossing her arms and looking away.
“That’s why they have a school nurse. When you don’t feel well, you go there. You don’t just cut class.”
“I didn’t feel like going to the nurse, Mom,” Madison said, feeling cornered. “I’m not some little kid who goes running to the nurse’s office to call my mommy.”
“No one said you were a little girl,” Michelle replied curtly. Then her voice softened a little. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“You wouldn’t understand,” Madison said, wishing she could just disappear.
“Try me. You might be surprised.”
“I can’t explain it, Mom,” Madison began. “I just don’t feel like myself. Something’s wrong.”
Michelle paused and took a deep breath before asking, “You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Madison said as she stood and started walking out of the room. She had to get away. She couldn’t breathe.
“Everyone as in whom?” Michelle demanded.
“You, Lucy, Miles.”
“Miles asked if you were pregnant?”
Madison’s heart stopped. The room closed in on her as the realization of her admission sunk in. Spinning, she faced her mother. “I’m not the perfect daughter you always thought I was. And I’m NOT pregnant,” she added, grabbing the car keys from the hook by the door and racing outside.
“Madison, wait!” her mother called.
But she bolted to the car, climbed in and locked the door, and then drove off into the night.
Sheila and Rick were snuggled up together on the couch watching an old movie when they heard a knock on the front door. “Who could that be?” Sheila asked as she sat up.
“I’ll go,” Rick replied, standing to his feet and pushing the pause button on the remote control. Sheila followed closely behind him suddenly feeling a wave of concern for her mother. Was this Michelle coming over to deliver bad news?
Neither of them was prepared for what they saw when Rick opened the door. Standing on their doorstep was Madison, tears spilling down her cheeks as she hugged herself tightly.
Rick immediately moved aside, giving Sheila access to her granddaughter.
“Maddie? What’s wrong?” Sheila asked and then added, “Come inside.”
Madison rubbed her nose with the back of her hand and sniffed away her tears as she entered the house. Sheila wrapped her arms around her and tried to comfort her, a myriad of questions rushing through her mind.
Was everyone okay? What would bring her granddaughter here alone this late?
As Madison began to relax in her embrace, Sheila gently pulled back and wiped her granddaughter’s tears away.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” she asked, studying Madison’s face for answers.
Madison took a shaky breath and said, “Everything, Grandma.”
“There, there,” Sheila murmured softly, remembering some of Michelle’s teenage woes. Hopefully this was nothing more serious than a break up with that boyfriend. “Come and sit down, and let’s talk,” she said to Maddie as she glanced over and made eye contact with Rick, hoping to send a silent message.
He took her lead. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me,” he said as he walked out of the room.
Sheila led Madison over to the couch, and they sat down side-by-side. Her granddaughter looked so distraught and lost. Sheila knew Michelle had been concerned about Maddie, but as she looked at Madison’s face, concern was rapidly replaced with alarm. She’d never seen her granddaughter so pale and gaunt. It was as if a big part of her was missing, leaving behind a nearly empty shell.
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” Sheila asked softly, reaching over and taking Madison’s hand in her own.
Maddie sank back into the soft cushions of the couch and let out a ragged sigh. “I’ve ruined everything,” she said as she stared off across the room. “My life is completely messed up. And I’m scared, Grandma. Something’s really wrong with me. I think I’m going crazy.” Once again her eyes filled with tears as her voice shook.
“Madison, you are not going crazy,” Sheila said, hoping she sounded convincing and calm. “I think you’d better start at the beginning and explain to me what is going on. But first, does your mother know where you are?” she asked, suddenly picturing Michelle worrying frantically.
Madison shook her head.
“Then I need to call her and let her know you are okay.”
“I can’t go home, Grandma. Can I please just stay here tonight?” she pleaded.
Sheila nodded as she patted her hand. “Of course you can. You just sit here and gather your thoughts, and I’ll go call your mom and get us some hot cocoa. Then we can talk.”
“Okay. Thanks,” she replied, offering a weak smile, while her eyes remained solemn.
Rick looked up from the kitchen table as Sheila entered. “Everything okay?” he asked.
“I honestly don’t know. Right now, I’m going to call Michelle and let her know Madison’s here. Would you get the cocoa from the pantry? I’m going to make us some hot chocolate, and then try to get her to tell me what’s the matter.”
“Sure,” he replied, retrieving the cocoa while Sheila dialed Michelle.
As she waited for someone to answer at the other end, Sheila glanced over and saw him set it on the counter and get the milk out of the fridge.
“Mom?” Michelle’s voice spoke through the receiver.
“Yes, it’s me, hon,” Sheila replied. “I’m calling to let you know Maddie is over here.”
“Oh, thank God,” her daughter said, the relief traveling across the wires. “Can I talk to her?”
“Let me have a little time with her first, okay? She seems pretty distraught. Rick’s fixing some hot cocoa for us, and then I’m going to let her vent about whatever is bothering her. Did you two have a fight or something?”
“She cut class today. I was talking to her about what was going on, and she got really upset and stormed out the door.”
Sheila paused for a second. “Madison cutting class? That doesn’t sound like her.”
“That’s what I said,” Michelle replied. “She’s not acting like herself, Mom. Something is really troubling her.” She paused and then added, “I can come over, if you want.”
“No, it’s okay. I told her she could stay here tonight. Is that alright with you?”
“Hold on a second, Mom.”
Sheila could hear muffled voices. It sounded like Michelle was talking with Steve.
A few moments later, she was back on the line. “Okay, that’s fine. But I’ll need my car in the morning for school. I think I’ll have Steve bring me over to pick it up. We won’t come to the door or anything.”
“What about the keys? Do you want me to set them out on the porch?” Sheila asked.
“No. Steve’s got a set for the van. I’ll use his,” she replied. “Let me know how it goes, okay? Call me after you two have talked. If it ends up being pretty late, I guess Madison can miss the first couple of classes in the morning, but she’ll need a note and a ride to school at some point.”
“We can take her, honey. Don’t worry about that,” Sheila said. “Rick’s got an appointment at work at ten. He can drop her off on his way.”
“Okay. If I don’t hear from you later tonight, I’ll call during my conference period around eleven,” Michelle promised. “And Mom?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
“Of course, dear.”
“I’ll be praying for you to have the right words for Madison,” her daughter added before hanging up.
Sheila said a silent prayer of her own as she retrieved the two cups of hot cocoa Rick had made and headed back into the living room.
Please help me, Lord. You know what is going on with Madison. Help me understand and know what to say to her.
Madison was slouched back into the cushions of the sofa, biting her nail as Sheila entered the living room with their cocoa. Sheila couldn’t remember seeing her granddaughter displaying that nervous habit, one Sheila’s son, Tim, had struggled with all his life. Sitting down beside her, she set the cocoa on the coffee table and put her hand on Madison’s shoulder. “Feel like talking?” she asked. “Or do you just want to sit and sip for a while?” she added, gesturing to the steaming mugs.
Her granddaughter glanced over at her and then to the cocoa. She leaned forward and picked up one of the mugs, cupping it in her hand and staring down into the creamy chocolate. “Smells good,” she said softly.
“Rick makes a mean cup of cocoa,” Sheila replied with a smile as she reached for her own mug.
They sat for a few minutes, sipping the sweetness as Madison skirted the issue at hand. “So how do you like being married again, Grandma?”
Sheila looked into her eyes and replied, “It’s better than I could have imagined, honey. After your grandfather died, I thought this stage of my life was over. Being a wife, I mean. Then, when Rick came along, I was skeptical at first.” She paused. “You know he was your mother’s professor a while back, right?”
“Yeah. She told me the whole story.”
“So you can guess why I was reluctant to get involved with him.”
Madison nodded.
“But, you know, the truth is that people sometimes change. With God’s help, that is. And Rick is one of them.” She took another sip of cocoa and then added, “He’s not perfect, Maddie. No one is. And we’ve had to adjust to each other’s ways. But overall, I feel very blessed to have found him.”
“You
are
blessed, Grandma,” Madison replied, her voice dropping as she set her half empty cup down. “You’re a good person. You deserve a good husband.”
Sheila was a bit taken aback by her granddaughter’s tone of voice. She sounded so much older than her years. Older. Wiser. And yet somehow more vulnerable than ever. She reached over and patted Madison on the knee. “What’s going on, sweetheart?”
Madison looked away and took a deep breath. After letting it out, she replied, “There’s something wrong with me, Grandma.”
Sheila studied her face. All traces of her usual smiles were gone, replaced by a furrowed brow and invisible dark clouds threatening to unleash a storm of sorrow.
What could be troubling her so much?
Sheila asked herself. Searching for words of reassurance, she tentatively said, “Sometimes things look worse than they really are. Why don’t you tell me what you think is wrong?” she suggested.
Madison looked into her eyes for a moment and then glanced away again, focusing on the window across the room as she began to open up. “Freaky things are happening to me. I keep getting these panicky feelings, like I can’t breathe, like I have to get away, but there’s nothing to get away from.” She hesitated, and Sheila could see tears beginning to pool in her eyes. When Madison turned back to face her, she noticed one escape and make a trail down her granddaughter’s cheek. It was quickly brushed away before Madison said, “I think I’m going crazy, Grandma.”
And then the storm broke loose. An onslaught of tears led to uncontrollable sobbing, as Sheila watched her shatter into shards of sorrow and fear. Drawing her close, Sheila held tightly, rocking her granddaughter in her arms the way she did when Maddie was a little baby. “It’s okay. Let it all out,” she said gently.
They remained locked together for several minutes, rocking through tears. Two generations apart, and yet hearts so closely woven together.
Finally Madison pulled back. Her face was red and her makeup was streaked from the tears. She sniffed and wiped the sleeve of her sweatshirt across her eyes as Sheila reached for a tissue on the end table and handed it to her.
After Madison had calmed down a bit, Sheila spoke again. “I don’t know everything about what’s going on with you, sweetheart, but I know you’re not crazy. It sounds like you are having some anxiety attacks, and they can be pretty scary. I’ve had a few myself.”
“Really?” her granddaughter asked, her face showing a sliver of relief.
“Really.” Sheila reached over and took Madison’s hand. “Mine happened when life started rushing too fast, and I couldn’t seem to catch up.”
Madison nodded.
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on in your life right now? Maybe we can figure this out together.”
Madison’s eyes met hers. She seemed to be seriously considering the question. Finally she slouched back against the cushions again, looked down into her lap, and said softly, “I’ve ruined everything.”
“What’s ‘everything’?” Sheila asked.
“My life. My future. Everything.”
Sheila thought for a moment. How should she respond?
Help me, Lord. How I wish Dad were here. He’d know exactly what to say,
she thought. “What exactly happened, Maddie? Is this about your boyfriend?”
Madison shot her a quick look and then averted her eyes again. “I guess you could say that. Although I’m not sure he’s my boyfriend anymore.”
Oh, Lord, is this about a teenage break up? Would that have her this upset?
Sheila tried to remember back to her high school years. The crushes, the dates, the hopes for the future.
Before she could ask another question, Madison blurted out, “I gave myself to him, Grandma. I didn’t mean to, but it happened. We were just kissing and stuff, and then…we…we went too far.”
Oh, no. Please don’t let her be pregnant, she prayed.
As if reading her thoughts, Madison said, “I’m not pregnant or anything.” She paused and then added, “But now Miles is different. He’s flirting with other girls, and he’s getting pretty impatient with me about…about…you know, the panicky feelings and stuff. It seems like all he thinks about is being together, that way. Like our whole relationship is about that, now.” She took a shaky breath, looked into Sheila’s eyes and said, “Look at me, Grandma. I’m a mess. Now no one will ever love me now. Not the way Grandpa loved you.”