Give and Take (10 page)

“Where is this coming from, Effie?” he asked.

Mom sighed into the receiver. “Don’t call me Effie. You haven’t called me that nickname since we split. Look, I really DON’T want to fight, okay?”

“Then what should I do about the vacation?” Dad asked her.

Madison had the urge to sneeze. She bit her lip hard so she wouldn’t give herself away, but there was a pause in the conversation. Had Mom and Dad heard something?

“Hello?” Mom’s voice sounded louder than loud in Madison’s ear. “Hello? Hello? Must be the phone line.”

“There’s no one on this end,” Dad said.

“You realize, Jeff, that this vacation wouldn’t have been a problem if you’d only saved more money.”

“Don’t bring THAT up all over again,” Dad said.

“Why not?” Mom said. “It’s a part of the picture, Jeff.”

Dad sighed. “Francine …”

“And Madison tells me that you think it’s a good idea if we attend this holiday Winter Jubilee concert together…” Mom said. “How could you tell her that and get her hopes up?”

“Why not? She wants us to go. It’s one night for two hours. I think that’s only fair,” Dad replied.

“What do you know about fair?” Mom said. “Canceling that vacation, Jeff—was that fair?”

“Fran, let’s not talk in circles like this,” Dad said. “I said I was sorry. What more do you want from me?”

“How else are you misleading her? Why was Maddie asking about your father the other night? How did the subject of Max come up?” Mom snapped.

“Fran, I won’t talk about this,” Dad said. “Not when you’re angry.”

“Why not, Jeff?” Mom pushed. “I feel like I’m in this alone and—”

“STOP! IT!” Madison screamed into the receiver. She hadn’t meant to say anything. It just flew out.

The phone line went silent.

“Maddie?” Dad’s voice croaked.

“Madison? Are you on the phone?” Mom asked.

“Yes,” Madison said. “And I heard everything.”

Dad exhaled and Mom let out a little gasp.

“Madison,” Dad said, clearing his throat.

“How can you tell me you don’t fight? ‘Don’t worry, Maddie,’ you both said to me. ‘We don’t fight!’” Madison shouted.

“Madison, you shouldn’t have heard this—” Mom started to say.

“We were only discussing—please, listen—” Dad tried to finish.

“You were FIGHTING!” Madison said. She didn’t want to listen anymore.

“Honey bear,” Mom said gently. “Get off the line and come into my office. We can talk more in here.”

“No.” Madison sniffled into the phone.

“Then let me come over there and we’ll sort this out,” Dad said.

“No.” Madison sniffled again.

“Maddie, I really think that we should all talk—”

“NO!” Madison yelled. “I just don’t understand. Why do you two have to act this way? It’s Christmas. Why can’t we be nice together and have a tree and open presents and eat cookies? Why do I have to be split down the middle? Why?”

“Split down the middle?” Mom said. Now her voice sounded sad.

“Maddie—” Dad choked up.

Madison slammed down the phone and ran back upstairs to her room. She knew this time Mom would be up right away and she was desperate to barricade herself inside the door—or at least under the covers. Phin tagged along, of course.

She ripped off a piece of her loose-leaf and scribbled across the middle:
KEEP OUT! DO NOT ENTER!
Then she taped it to her door and turned the inside lock, even though Mom had said never to lock her bedroom door.

Madison went directly to her laptop and opened a file.

Give and Take


Rude Awakening:
’Tis the season to be jolly? NOT. For some reason, this winter is turning into a frost cause.


I am boycotting the school Winter Jubilee concert.


I am boycotting Christmas.


I am boycotting my BFFs.


I am boycotting my parents.


“Maddie,” Mom whispered outside Madison’s bedroom door.

Knock, knock.

“Please let me in, honey bear,” Mom said again, continuing to knock.

Phin toddled over to the door and sniffed around when he heard Mom’s voice. He scratched at the floor.

“You have to talk to me sometime,” Mom said softly from behind the door.

Madison hit
SAVE
and closed her laptop.

“I don’t feel like talking,” Madison said. But she opened the door anyway.

Mom stood there holding a plate of fruit. “Peace offering?” Mom said.

Madison looked down at the plate, looked back up at Mom, and then burst into tears. “I’m so sorry!” she wailed.

“Let’s sit down,” Mom said, guiding Madison over to the bed. “Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on.”

“O
H, SWEETIE,” MOM SAID,
handing Madison another tissue. She readjusted her position on the bed, and Madison fell headfirst into Mom’s lap.

She’d told Mom about Ivy and the drones making fun of her; and about Fiona and Aimee ignoring her.

“I didn’t mean to listen in on the phone or to yell,” Madison said. “I hope Dad isn’t mad at me.”

“Honey bear, no one is mad,” Mom said. “Not Dad, not me—”

“
I
was mad,” Madison admitted. “I was SO mad.”

Mom sighed. “You can talk to me,” she said. “Rather than letting things get to the boiling point.”

“I tried talking, Mom,” Madison said, lifting her head. “But when it comes to Dad, you always change the subject. And then you try to tell me I’m worried for nothing.”

“Maddie,” Mom asked, “what do you want, exactly?”

“I told you. I want you and Dad to come to my Winter Jubilee concert together,” Madison said.

Mom grabbed Madison gently. “Why is this so important to you?” she asked.

Madison shrugged. “It just is. Can’t you do this one thing because I’m asking you? Because it’s the holidays?”

Mom took a long breath. “Maddie,” she said. “Let me think about it.”

At that moment, Phin jumped up on the bed to investigate. He could usually tell when something was wrong—like now. Madison grabbed his little body and rubbed her nose into his coarse fur.

“Did you hear what Mom said, Phinnie?” Madison exclaimed. “Do you mean it, Mom? Cross your heart and stick needles in your eyes?”

“Yes, except for the needles part,” Mom said, chuckling. “But I’m not making any promises, so don’t get too excited, okay?”

“Oh, Mom, thanks,” Madison said, throwing her arms out for a big hug.

Mom handed Madison the phone.

“Why don’t you call your father now and tell him you’re feeling better,” Mom suggested. “And come downstairs when you’re done. Maybe we could bake some cookies after dinner. I bought bittersweet chocolate and other special ingredients.”

By the time Madison called his apartment, Dad had already left. She recorded a long message on his answering machine.

“Hey, Dad, it’s me, Madison. Um … I’m calling and it’s almost seven o’clock now and I really wish you were there so I could tell you in person that I am sorry for picking up the phone and then getting all upset and making you and Mom upset, too. Are you there? Dad? Well, when you get this message you will know how bad I feel. Please call me right away when you get back in, okay? Are you having dinner with Stephanie? I think you said that. I am so sorry again. I love you more than … well, I love you, Dad. Call me, please? Please?”

Madison hung up before Dad’s machine had a chance to cut her off. She didn’t want to hear the long and lonely BEEEEEEEP before getting disconnected.

Phin chased his tail around in circles, frisky as ever. He knew that Mom and Madison had patched things up. They headed downstairs to the kitchen.

“Want a chewie?” Madison asked, tossing a rawhide bone his way.

Phin licked his chops and howled. “Rahhhhhhhhhhhrooooooo!”

Mom had pulled out cookie sheets and cookie cutters already. She took down the bowls from the cabinet.

“What kind should we make?” Madison asked.

“I was thinking chocolate chip,” Mom said.

“Mmmmmm,” Madison said.

“I was also thinking maybe we could make an extra dozen for your friend, at The Estates,” Mom suggested. “In honor of the holidays.”

Madison smiled. “That is such a great idea, Mom. Except, if we’re going to do that, can we make a different kind? Mrs. Romano told me once that she loves gingersnaps.”

“Wait!” Mom said, holding up her hand. “I think I remember Gramma Helen had a recipe for ginger-snaps …”

Mom took out the old recipe-card box from the shelf and thumbed through for the right one.

“Oh!” Mom exclaimed with a grin. “I forgot. Gramma called them “Fred ’n’ Ginger” Snaps—after the movie stars. Do you know them? Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers?”

Madison shook her head. “I think so, but not really.”

Mom grabbed Madison around the waist and turned her around in a waltzing circle. “They were dancers. We’ll have to rent an old black-and-white movie sometime with them.
Top Hat
is one of my favorites.”

“Okay, Mom,” Madison said, breaking away with a giggle.

“Sorry,” Mom said, squeezing Madison around the middle. “I get carried away sometimes.”

After preheating the oven and measuring the ingredients, Mom and Madison mixed everything together and rolled out the gingersnap cookie dough. Mom had star and moon cookie cutters that Madison pressed into the dough and slid onto the cookie sheet. After the baking was done, they cooled the snaps and wrapped them in blue tissue paper Madison found in her box of paper scraps. Mom added a long, yellow grosgrain ribbon that Madison tied into a bow around the paper. She added a small, homemade card with stars and moons drawn all over the front. The card read
FOR MRS. ROMANO WHO IS A STAR TO ME. LOVE, MADISON
. She thought about adding flowers to match Mrs. Romano’s room at The Estates, but decided to put art that matched the cookies instead.

“That Mrs. Romano is going to be so happy,” Mom said, washing down the countertop. “You have to tell Gramma Helen we made these.”

Madison bit into one of the cookies from the chocolate-chip batch. “Thanks for suggesting it, Mom. I’m glad we talked.”

The phone rang and Mom grabbed it.

“Maddie,” she said, handing the phone over. “It’s Fiona.”

Madison picked up the phone. “Hello? What’s up?”

“I can’t do my history homework!” Fiona wailed into the phone. “How are you?”

“I’m okay. Mom and I just made cookies.”

“Yum! I wish I could come over and eat some,” Fiona said. “But it’s getting late.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Madison said. “Did you just call to say hi?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Fiona replied. “I didn’t really see you so much today in school.”

Madison could hear boys talking in the background.

“Who’s over there?” Madison inquired.

“Drew, Dan, Egg …” Fiona said, her voice softening. “They’re playing video games.”

“Anyone else?” Madison asked.

“No. Hart was supposed to come, but he has the flu.”

“Oh,” Madison said, trying not to sound like she cared. But she had noticed him missing that day at school.

“Maddie?” Fiona asked. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Huh?” Madison asked. “Orange. You know that.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot,” Fiona said.

“Since when do you care about my favorite color?” Madison asked.

“And your lucky number is thirteen, right?” Fiona asked.

“What’s going on? Are you taking a poll or something?” Madison said.

“No,” Fiona said. “I was just reading this numerology thing in a magazine and—”

“Numerology? So what’s
your
lucky number?” Madison asked back.

Fiona thought for a minute. “Nine,” she said. “Anyway, I have to go.”

“Wait,” Madison said. “Aren’t you going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Fiona asked.

“About the number thirteen,” Madison said. “What does it mean in numerology? Am I destined for true love, or lots of money, or what?”

“Can I e-mail it to you? I have to run,” Fiona said.

“You have to go? Already?” Madison asked. She wondered if Fiona was rushing off the phone to go call Aimee.

“I still haven’t done my homework,” Fiona said.

“Oh. Want to hang out tomorrow after school?” Madison asked.

Fiona said she would, but then Madison remembered she couldn’t meet anyone the next day.

Tomorrow was the next after-school trip to The Estates.

The flu was going around seventh grade. On Friday, Hart was still out sick. So was Ivy. That meant Madison was taking the bus to volunteering without her crush or her enemy.

Madison had the stars and moons cookies tucked inside a box inside her orange bag, and she kept checking to make certain they would not get smashed before she got there.

Since the group was smaller this time, Nurse Ana cut the orientation meeting short. Everyone disappeared off to the rooms. Madison raced to see Mrs. Romano, but she wasn’t there. A nurse’s aide was in the doorway.

“Eleanor Romano …” a nurse’s aide read from a chart. “She is in with Dr. Jacobs right now. Mr. Lynch suggested that you meet her in the waiting room.”

Madison and the aide walked around a few corners to a small waiting room with high back chairs. The Estates had doctors right on the premises. A low coffee table was covered in copies of
National Geographic
and some magazine Madison had never heard of called
AARP.
The fine print said that meant “American Association of Retired Persons.” Madison flipped through a copy.