Lost and Found

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Lost and Found Page 4

by Danielle Steel


  She almost winced when she heard Deanna’s voice. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with her, and she was starting to feel drunk from the pill.

  “Hi, the weather was awful in Massachusetts. How was it here?” She dove right in without asking how her mother was, or how her weekend had been, just about the weather.

  “I’m not sure. I stayed home all weekend.” Deanna guessed that her mother had been working, as she often did.

  “I’ve got something to ask you. I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow, in case you have a shoot. I need an answer right away.” Maddie was already regretting having answered the phone. Whatever it was, she didn’t want to hear it. She wasn’t up to a power struggle with her daughter. Listening to her, on the first wave of the pain pill, she started to feel sick.

  “What is it?” Maddie asked in a tired voice with her eyes closed.

  “We’re looking for a venue for a cocktail party, as a benefit. Not a big deal. Just about a hundred people. The firehouse would be perfect for it, if that’s okay with you.” She assumed her mother would agree, but Maddie had done it for her before, and it had turned into a much bigger event, with twice as many people as Deanna said it would be, spilling out onto the sidewalk and going all over the house to explore. Maddie had promised herself she’d never do it again. She remembered it distinctly.

  “Actually, it’s not okay,” Maddie said, feeling weak and dizzy. “The last time I agreed to it it was a mess.”

  “This will be a much smaller deal,” Deanna assured her, sounding sure she could get her mother to consent. “I promise, we’ll keep it under better control. We’re going to have a gourmet food truck, so we don’t need to use your kitchen at all.”

  “And if someone falls down the stairs, if they go upstairs even if they’re not supposed to, I’m the one they’re going to sue. Or if they go down the fireman’s pole and get hurt if they’re drunk.” Some people could never resist the temptation, particularly men, although some women had done it too. Maddie didn’t want the liability.

  “We’ll rope it off. And no one is going to sue you, Mother,” Deanna said, sounding supercilious and annoyed. She hated the word “no.”

  “I really don’t want to do it,” Maddie said, trying to sound firm, although she was feeling sick and woozy from the pill.

  “It’s for a good cause. You don’t sound good, by the way. Are you sick?” Maddie sounded like she’d been drinking. She could hear it herself. Her words were slurring.

  “Sort of. Not really,” Maddie said, suddenly feeling vulnerable. She needed to be in top form and have all her wits about her when she talked to Deanna. “I had a stupid accident on Friday night, but I’m fine.”

  “What kind of accident?”

  “I fell off a ladder and broke my ankle. It’s a clean break, I’m in a cast but it’ll be off in six weeks. And I’ll get a walking cast in a week or two.”

  “For God’s sake, Mother, how stupid is that? You were on a ladder on Friday night? When you’re by yourself? What were you thinking?” The milk of human kindness, and compassion, did not run in Deanna’s veins.

  “I was reorganizing a closet, trying to get some boxes down from a high shelf,” Maddie said simply, but feeling seriously stupid while faced with her daughter’s reaction and tone of voice.

  “That’s exactly what I was afraid of when you bought the place. What if you fell down those stairs? They’re treacherous. You can’t use a ladder when you’re alone there, Mother. You’re lucky it was only your ankle, it could have been your hip.” It was hardly a cheering thought. “At your age, you shouldn’t be living there alone. You should hire someone to sleep in.”

  “I’m not that far gone yet,” Maddie said, pushing back. She didn’t like the mention of a broken hip. She had thought of that too. It had a connotation of age.

  “You should sell the place and get an apartment,” Deanna said firmly, as though Maddie had committed a crime and lost her right to live in a house alone.

  “I don’t need someone sleeping here. I’m fine on my own. I was here all weekend with a broken ankle, and I’m managing.”

  “You’re too old to live in a house like that. The place is a death trap, you could fall down the stairs or into the hole for the fire pole.”

  “I haven’t done that yet. Anyone can break an ankle, at any age. Accidents happen. I shouldn’t have been on the ladder,” she conceded. “I won’t do it again.”

  “I hope not. But I think you should start thinking of selling the place. You should have put in an elevator when you moved in.”

  “I was forty-three years old when I bought the house. I didn’t need an elevator, and I don’t need one now. I’m not in a wheelchair, for God’s sake.” Deanna was annoying her, her tone was insulting, and so was what she said.

  “You will be eventually,” she said nastily.

  “I’ll figure it out then.”

  “If you still can, Mother. A fall like this is the first sign that you’re not up to living there alone anymore. You should face that now, before something else happens. This is a warning to you. Either hire someone to live in or sell the house. That’s what people your age do.”

  She had it all worked out in her own mind. And then she added insult to injury. “We’ll have to get you one of those alarms to wear around your neck in case you fall, if you insist on staying there. And no one is going to be able to carry you up and down those stairs if you get hurt. How did you manage this weekend?”

  “I managed,” Maddie said succinctly. She wasn’t going to tell Deanna that she had slept on the studio couch on Saturday night, had gotten to her bedroom by going up the stairs backwards on her bottom, had been eating cookies all day because she couldn’t get to the kitchen, and had only had half a sandwich in the last thirty-six hours. It would have proven Deanna’s point. Maddie hoped she wasn’t right that this was the beginning of the end. “I’m not even sixty yet, for Heaven’s sake.”

  “You’re not far from it. And that’s when some people start to fall apart, or get Alzheimer’s,” Deanna said ominously.

  “I know people in their eighties who live alone and don’t have Alzheimer’s. I was on a ladder. Admittedly, that was stupid of me, but I’m not in a full body cast or on a respirator. I broke my ankle, not my hip.”

  “No, but you will if you do dumb things like that.” She had no sympathy for her mother, and listening to her was driving Maddie’s spirits into the ground.

  “I have a headache,” Maddie said quietly. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “What about the benefit?” Deanna pressed her, and Maddie dug her heels in after the conversation they’d just had.

  “You can’t do it here. Besides, given what you think, I’m too old to have a hundred strangers in my house. Good night,” she said and hung up quickly before Deanna could come up with another round of arguments in favor of it. Maddie was not going to lend the firehouse to her, particularly if she was going to try to convince her to sell it, or hire live-in help she didn’t want, like some old woman who couldn’t take care of herself at fifty-eight. Maddie felt worse when she hung up, and she was seething. Deanna made her sound as though she were a hundred years old and losing her mind. And the prospect of no longer living alone was profoundly depressing, even if it didn’t happen for another ten years or longer.

  Maddie lay in bed that night thinking about it, and everything Deanna had said, and didn’t fall asleep until four in the morning. The effect of the earlier pain pill was lost, and her mind was racing. The ankle hurt like hell. She used her crutches to get to the bathroom several times, and was wide awake until she finally drifted off. She slept until she heard the front door close when Penny came to work the next morning.

  Maddie called Penny in her office and asked her to come upstairs to the bedroom. Penny looked shocked when she saw the crutches and noticed Maddie’s pale
face.

  “What happened?” She pointed to the mess outside the closet, and the fallen ladder still lying on its side, which told the story. The crutches leaning against Maddie’s bed told the rest, and the result of the fall from the ladder.

  “I was on my closet-reorganizing mission and fell off the ladder on Friday night.” Penny’s eyes were instantly ablaze with concern. “And don’t lecture me about it. I’ve already heard it from the doctor, and Deanna says I should hire someone to live with me or sell the house.”

  “She would,” Penny said with a stern look of disapproval. She hadn’t liked Maddie’s oldest daughter since the day she started.

  “I know it wasn’t smart to be on the ladder. I won’t do it again,” Maddie said, looking subdued. “Deanna thinks this is the beginning of Alzheimer’s. Christ, I hope not.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re sharper than I am. Although, I’ll grant you, being at the top of a ladder at night when you’re alone wasn’t smart.”

  “I know.” Maddie was contrite and felt foolish.

  “You have a shoot on Thursday. Do you want me to cancel it?”

  “No,” Maddie said, “I can manage, I’ll have two freelance studio assistants. What I need now is help getting to the bathroom so I don’t fall, and help with the shower. And after that, I’m starving. I lived on cookies all day yesterday.”

  “Why didn’t you call me? I can’t believe you called Deanna instead. Did she come to help you out?”

  “Of course not, and I didn’t call her. She called me because she wants to use the house for another benefit. I told her she can’t.”

  “Thank God, I remember what the place looked like after the last one. They can rent a place somewhere.”

  “She’ll have to. I won’t let her do it here,” Maddie said firmly. But she knew she hadn’t heard the last of it. Deanna didn’t give up that easily. She was hell on wheels when she wanted something.

  Maddie took a hot shower, with a garbage bag over her cast, which made her feel better, and Penny helped her down the stairs on her bottom, to the kitchen, and then made her scrambled eggs and bacon with toast. Maddie was ravenous, and happy to see Penny. Her ankle was feeling better too. She had felt depressed and lonely all weekend, and considerably worse after talking to Deanna the night before.

  “Did you have time to go through any of those boxes?” Penny asked her, as she sat down beside her, with a mug of coffee.

  “I got an idea of what was in them. I made a pile of things to give away, and another pile to throw out.”

  “Any forgotten treasures?”

  Maddie smiled at her in answer. “Not really. Just letters and some photographs of old boyfriends.”

  “Anyone interesting?” They were all from before Penny’s time with her, so she didn’t know about them and had never met them.

  “Used to be,” Maddie said mysteriously, thinking of the cowboy, Andy Wyatt, again. “God knows where they are now. That was all a long time ago.”

  “You can google them, if you want, and get in touch with them, if they still seem interesting,” Penny said.

  “I’m not sure they’d want to hear from me. Ex-girlfriends are a dime a dozen.”

  “Not ex-girlfriends like you.” Penny smiled at her. “You should definitely google them if you want to get in touch with them,” Penny said and Maddie nodded. She wasn’t sure which was worse, Deanna telling her she needed someone to live with her and that she would break a hip next time, or falling in love with Andy again. It was hard to decide. Both scenarios had their risks, particularly Andy. They had been so hopelessly in love with each other eighteen years before, and ever since she’d seen his photograph and read his letters, she felt like she was falling for him all over again. It had taken her two years to get over him at the time. If she saw him in person, it could only be worse. She had never been able to resist him. And suddenly she wanted to reach out to him, which she knew was tempting fate. Her life was so simple and uncomplicated now, except for a broken ankle. The last thing she needed was a cowboy from Wyoming, no matter how handsome he was or how much they had loved each other.

  The broken ankle had made her feel vulnerable, and Deanna’s words had frightened her. Suddenly she wanted someone to protect her. It seemed foolish even to her, she had taken care of herself and everyone else all her life. But what if Deanna was right and this was the beginning of the end? She was staring time, age, and her own frailty in the face. It was terrifying. And even Andy couldn’t protect her from it. No one could, which was the worst part. Her own mortality had become real overnight.

  Chapter 3

  Maddie felt as though she’d had a thousand-pound weight on her all weekend when she finally got to her desk on Monday morning. The broken ankle was an inconvenience, but more than that, it was upsetting. It had brought up issues she’d never even thought of before, and she felt hungover and depressed from the pain pills she’d taken. Deanna’s dire predictions for the future loomed over her like a cloud, with the forecast of an impending storm, a hurricane that would hit her life, a tornado she couldn’t avoid. She had no intention of hiring someone to live at the firehouse with her. But what if ultimately she lost her independence and was dependent on others? And worse yet, Ben and Milagra, her more benevolent children, lived far away. What if Deanna controlled her life one day, hiring nurses and forcing them on her? What if she was obliged by circumstance, physical necessity, or her children to sell the house she loved and that suited her so well? She felt suddenly at their mercy. She had never felt that way before. Deanna had been an annoyance for years. What if it became a power struggle with her now and Deanna won?

  Maddie wondered if she should put in an elevator now, in anticipation of the future. The whole prospect was depressing. She could see a bleak future rolling out ahead of her with the loss of all the freedoms she held dear, and that were essential to her sense of well-being. It had never occurred to her before that she could lose them.

  Penny could see how gloomy Maddie felt when she brought her a cup of tea and put a new stack of contact sheets on her desk for her to look over. “How are you feeling?”

  Maddie’s face told its own story. Breaking her ankle had been a shock, and very painful, but what it implied was even worse. The picture Deanna had painted for her made her want to cry, or run away. But she couldn’t run away from time, or the future. Just as Deanna said, it would catch up with her sooner or later, and maybe it already had.

  “I’m okay,” Maddie said, and convinced neither of them. “I think I’m hungover from the pills I took.” She normally hated medication, rarely took any, and didn’t need to. “I’m wondering if Deanna is right, and I should put in an elevator, before I actually need to. It might be useful later.”

  “A lot later,” Penny said, frowning. She hated what Maddie’s oldest daughter did to her. She always found some way to upset her. Her other two children weren’t attentive, but at least they didn’t rattle her the way Deanna did, and take pleasure in doing so. “It’ll eat up a lot of the studio,” she said sensibly. And then more gently she looked at her employer and friend. “Don’t let Deanna get to you.” It was good advice.

  “She thinks I’m losing it, and falling off the ladder is the first sign. Maybe she’s right. Old people fall all the time.” Maddie was near tears as she said it.

  “You’re not old. That’s bullshit. She’s been jealous of you for all the years I’ve known you, and she probably has been all her life. She’s just waiting for you to get really old and start failing so she can finally feel superior to you. Don’t let her do that. When you’re ninety, or ninety-five, you’ll still have more style, grace, and probably energy than she will. You wear me out. I don’t love the idea of you on a ladder in the middle of the night either. It was a dumb thing to do, at any age, but you’re not falling apart. You had a common household accident, it can happen to anyone. Things
like that remind us of our mortality, and that we can hurt ourselves if we’re not careful. It’s not a sign of senility or imminent old age. And I’m sure you won’t do it again. You’ll probably be running up and down those damn stairs I hate long after I will.” Penny was sixteen years younger than Maddie. “Deanna just likes scaring you and making you feel insecure.” Maddie nodded, she knew it was true, but Penny made Deanna sound Machiavellian, and Maddie didn’t believe she was quite as bad as that. She was just tactless and unkind, and outspoken. And she probably was right. Maddie would have to give up the firehouse one day, just not yet, and hopefully not for a long time. She loved living there.

  Maddie was working on the contact sheets, and not thinking about Deanna or her ankle, an hour later when Penny told her Ben was on the line for her. Maddie was instantly worried. He never called her during business hours. He was usually much too busy for that. Something must be wrong. She answered the phone quickly.

  “Are you okay?” she asked him.

  “I’m okay. What about you? That seems to be the more relevant question. What happened this weekend?” It was obvious that he knew and wanted to hear her account of the story.

  “Did Deanna call you?” The jungle drums were beating. She felt as though Deanna had squealed on her. Maybe she had told him that their mother needed a caretaker too.

  “She sent me a text this morning,” he said about his sister. “She said you had a bad fall and broke your ankle.” He sounded very concerned.

  “I’m all right. I did a stupid thing. I was cleaning out a closet and fell off a ladder. Lesson learned. I guess I fell at a bad angle. I didn’t need surgery, they put on a cast at the ER and sent me home. It’s a nuisance, but not fatal.”

 

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