Off the Rails (10 page)

“So! Would you like a glass of water? Do you need some crackers?” The girl frowned sympathetically. “Morning sickness is the worst, but don’t worry. It only lasts for a couple months.” Then she added with a sweet giggle, “At least that’s what people tell me.”

Water? Crackers?

A couple months?

A snack was tempting, but accepting that would be the same as lying, and she’d managed not to do that so far. Out loud, anyway.

Madison shook her head.

“Well, then! Where do you want to start? Underpinnings? A nightgown?”

All of a sudden Madison’s mouth went dry and her face must have gone blank—possibly even horrified.

Obviously the cute salesgirl had seen it all. “That’s okay,” she said gently, backing away from Madison as though she were a whiny child who had to be handled with special care. “You take your time, enjoy looking through everything, and then let me know when you’d like a fitting room. Sound like a plan?”

Madison thanked her with as much togetherness as she could muster, then started flipping through the lingerie. An array of confusingly-shaped panties and crazy strapped bras blurred past. Did those things come with user guides?

She scooted over to a row of cocktail dresses.

Who knew they made such things? Strapless, floor-length with a thigh-high slit, low-cut black numbers. Where were the tents? The cute corduroy jumpers?

“Find what you’re looking for?” a moderately pregnant woman asked.

“I…” Madison glanced hopelessly at the silky fabrics beside her, then at the woman’s nametag then back to the clothing. “Don’t you have anything…?”

Seeing Madison’s knitted brows, the woman angled her head and waited. Clearly both of them were clueless as to what should happen next.

Out of options, Madison tumbled ahead with her last resort, “I’m going to my high school reunion. It’s not for a while yet, and I don’t know… I mean, you can’t tell—”

“You need this!” the woman squealed as she stuck her hand under her top and whipped out a little round pillow, then held it out for Madison, whose gaze dropped to the empty space that had been filled by the woman’s rounded tummy.

“Strap this on and you’ll be able to see what the dress will look like in a couple months…or weeks…depending.” She brightened. “Okay? How’s that?”

Swept up into the beautiful absurdity of the pillow thing, Madison asked, “That’ll make me look pregnant?”

“Yes, it sure will.”

“Do you sell those?”

The cute little thing, Madison’s original salesgirl, chose that exact time to reappear.

They exchanged confused glances, then answered simultaneously, “Um
…
no.”

Then the woman who’d handed over the pillow smiled. “Of course you’re anxious for everyone to know. I understand.
Really
.” She reached out and touched Madison’s arm. “You’ll be showing soon enough.
Really
.”

The cute girl half-smiled. “Are you sure you don’t want some crackers? Water?”

“No thanks.” Madison tucked the pillow under one arm and grabbed two black dresses off the rack. “Can I try these on?”

Relief washed over all their faces. The salesgirls’ because they were, at least temporarily, rid of Madison, and Madison’s because she may have actually found the thing that was going to make that reunion bearable. Surely she could get one of those pillows online. Once she was neatly ensconced in the fitting room, she whipped off her clothes and slapped on the tummy pillow. Sure, without any clothes over it, it looked damn stupid, but that didn’t matter.

Just as Madison was about to slip the first dress over her head, her cell went off.

Tia.

Setting the dress down, Madison hissed, “What now?”

“How are you going to get Drew if you’re pregnant?”

“I’m not going to the reunion to ‘get Drew’,” she lied.

“Still lying to yourself?”

Madison turned her back to the door, hoping not to offend the delicate ears of the expectant moms. “Fuck you.”

“I thought of something else.”

“What?”

“How do you expect to get away with this whole thing? Yeah, you could probably fool everyone for a night, but what are you going to tell anyone you see later on when they ask how the baby is doing?”

Madison patted her pillow baby. “I don’t know.” She pushed logic aside. “I never see anybody from high school. Why would I want to?”

“Well, if you want to go that route, we can go back to trying to figure out why you think you need a baby and husband to show up a bunch of people you don’t care about. If you don’t care, then why the bother?”

Deep inside, Madison knew the reason had something to do with her. Something she really didn’t want to think about, and had been avoiding thinking about for a while now. Honestly, she didn’t really care what they thought of her. But she did care about what she thought of herself. Admitting that she hadn’t accomplished any of the things that she’d planned on doing was…unthinkable.

But avoidable. As long as she kept avoiding it, that was.

Tia cut into the silence, her tone uncharacteristically gentle. “Madison?”

“Yeah?”

“You can’t do this, you know.”

“Did you know they make sexy maternity lingerie?”

“Really? With lace?”

“They make cocktail dresses, too.”

After a pause, Tia caught on to Madison’s distraction tactic. “You don’t get to be the sexy pregnant woman whose rich husband is out of town.”

Madison ran her fingers over the silky fabric of the dress she had been about to try on. “I know. But you have to admit it was a pretty good idea.”

“It was a good idea. And when you really are expecting, I promise to take you shopping and buy you a knockout maternity bra and panty set. Deal?”

Back to square one. Madison unstrapped the pillow baby. “Deal.”

“Coffee at The Vine after work?”

“You mean after
you
get off work.”

“Fine. Be that way.”

“Yes, the unemployed set is available for caffeinated beverages after the employed set has finished work for the day.”

“Over and out.” Tia clicked off.

Madison slumped into the oversized yellow and white striped chair and stared at the delicate, gold-framed, floral prints hanging beside the extra wide doorway. She closed her eyes and merged with the chair, relaxing and trying to forget about her dilemma. The mini-meditation worked—until a distantly familiar voice chased away all traces of Zen-like peace.

“Don’t you have anything smaller than this small? Can’t you see she needs a smaller size?”

The voice of the cute salesgirl was reassuring. “Yes, of course, Ms. Williams. I’ll look in back. We got a new shipment last night—spring dresses—I think. Maybe we can find something in there.”

“We don’t have to go through all this hassle, Sandra. I’m not going to be on stage, you are.”

Sandra?

Sandra Williams?

“You’re my sister. You have to look great, too.”

There was a pause as the salesgirl arrived with some dresses, then the pitch-perfect voice sang on. “Try this blue one on—it’ll be perfect with your eyes.”

Sandra
and
Katie Williams?

Fuck.

As if only one perfect girl wasn’t enough?

There was the rustle of clothing, then Sandra’s well loved voice interrupted Madison’s grief. “It’s been forever since we’ve been back. I can’t remember what it looks like. Do you think the stage will be big enough?”

For your head?

No.

“I don’t know,” Katie replied. “Your set is pretty wide.”

“I almost said no when they asked me to sing, but I’m glad I changed my mind. It’ll be fun. Seeing everyone, and catching up.”

Madison picked up the baby pillow, clutching it to her chest and resisting the ugly truth. But it insisted on making itself known. It was bad enough that everyone—teachers, students, administrators, even the janitors—loved ‘talented’ Sandra and her ‘smart’ twin sister Katie back in high school, but did they have to keep loving them
still
? Even five years later?

Now, with stupid Sandra up on stage being all talented and up-and-coming, Madison was going to look like even more of a failure. She dropped the pillow. Her pathetic attempts seemed even more depressingly pathetic now.

* * * *

Clutching a just bought pint of Graeter’s Bourbon Pecan Chocolate Chip ice cream, Madison slipped into her apartment, ducked through her hallway, grabbed a spoon from her drawer and hopped up onto the kitchenette counter. She stabbed into the ice cream, scooped up a giant mouthful and stuffed it in. The ice cream melted, leaving the hunks of chocolate and yummy pecans behind. She crushed them down and swallowed. Then started the process all over again.

Then again.

Delish.

Madison stretched out her leg and poked the edges of the fern with the tip of her shoe. A few leaves dropped, but for the most part, it bounced back. “Good for you,” she muttered around a mouthful of pecans.

Beside her, her phone blinked.

Drew: Hey. Good news. Tasha Anders and Scott Neville took over the Swag ‘n’ Tag committee. No more work for us!

She frowned. Worst day ever had actually gotten even worse.

Madison:
Okay.

Drew: Send me what you have and I’ll pass it over to them.

Madison shoved another giant spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.

Madison:
Sure.

Drew:
Pretty awesome, huh?

Madison let the ice cream melt then chewed the pecans and chocolate.

Madison: Yeah. I’ll send the stuff tomorrow.

Drew:
Perfect. Can’t wait to see you
.

She reached up and wiped some melted ice cream from her chin. Y
ou could see me right now. All you have to do is ask.
He didn’t mean that he really did want to see her.

Madison:
I know. Soon.

Drew:
See ya!

Madison: Bye.

Madison, shoulders slumped, filled her mouth with the last of the ice cream
.
And so she was truly right back where she’d started.

Chapter Nine

Sexy Afterglow

“Not the biggest response I’ve seen, but okay.” Mr. Moonilgio folded his bony arms and stared at Madison with his bleary, seen-it-all gaze. “Your voice is nice. The crowd liked you some.”

He turned his pointy chin, scanning the mix of people in the audience, and Madison looked with him. The couples were trying to look cool, unattached and with it—essentially they were trying to look like the singles—and the singles were trying to look together, forward-thinking and date worthy—essentially they were trying to look like the couples.

All in all, they were what you’d expect for the given situation, but Mr. Moonilgio wasn’t satisfied. “The door was okay, but the bar isn’t doing that well. That’s where the money is, you know. I don’t give a shit if they like the show—really, all that matters is how much they drink. I’m not going to make any money on
you
. I’m going to make money on the drinks they buy while watching you.” He looked her up and down, saying pointedly, “You need to sex it up. That’ll get ‘em to buy drinks.”

Bar managers. Rude assholes, all of them.

Madison resisted telling him to go fuck himself and rallied her wavering self-confidence. “Do you want me to come back?”

Mr. Moonilgio considered. “Can you wear something short and tight next time?”

“Are you serious?”

“Are you serious about wanting to come back?”

So. There it was. “Yes. And yes.”

“We’ve got ourselves a deal, then. Friday nights are busy. Be here tomorrow at six. You’ll go on at seven, as the warm-up. Do something that makes them want drinks. Same deal on Saturday. We’ll see about Sunday or next week later.”

At least he wasn’t going to make her flirt with him. He strolled off in one direction, and she very gladly went off in the other.

Thankful to have that over with, and glad she had
something
going on, Madison cut through the crowd and headed to the upstairs bar. The bartender, a blonde with two studs in her left eyebrow, scooted over, grinning. “First one’s on me. That was a hot set.”

“Mr. Moonilgio didn’t think so.”

“He’s a guy, what does he know?”

She had a point. Madison shrugged.

“What can I get you?”

“Green apple martini?”

“Good choice.” The blonde pushed herself away from the bar, adding over her shoulder, “I’ll make it special.”

Was that a wink? Or the lights playing tricks?

The upstairs was a hell of a lot quieter than the scene downstairs. In fact, it had a different atmosphere altogether. Softer, with quiet, couch filled corners. Sort of a coffee house thing only with drinks. Not bad at all, a girl could be real comfortable.

“Here you are, darlin’.”

Madison thanked the bartender, then gazed into the huge glass. The blonde lingered nearby, obviously awaiting approval. When Madison lifted the drink, she nearly had to steady herself against the top-heavy weight of the glass, but she managed to lick a bit of salt from the rim and take a fairly small sip. The liquid rolled down the back of her throat.

“Good stuff,” she said, after she swallowed.

“Yes. It is.” The girl grinned, touching the long layers of perfect hair caressing her cheek. “You let me know if you need anything at all, ya hear?”

“Sure thing.” When Madison took another sip, the woman scooted away, leaving her alone. Except for the drink, which was big enough to count as a companion.

“Jackie makes a damn good martini, doesn’t she?”

Madison licked the salty sweetness from her upper lip. “Best thing I’ve had all day.”

The newcomer climbed up onto the stool next to Madison’s. Once she had herself situated, she leaned in with a smile. “Unexpected, hmmm?”

In the back of her mind, a memo board flashed, but Madison, charmed by the drink and curious about the girl, ignored it. Whatever it was that the memo said couldn’t be that important. If it were, it wouldn’t be on that backboard. It would be up front, shouting,
read me!
But it wasn’t up front. It was in the back. So she ignored it and took another sip of her drink.