But the sadness is what struck her the most. Dad was right after all—Mrs. Burnham was lonely, and it seemed that loneliness had turned her into a bitter woman or a nosy one or something else, she wasn’t sure what.
Somehow, she’d always assumed adults had everything figured out, but that didn’t seem to be the case with Mrs. Burnham, or her own mom, for that matter. If Mom wasn’t a testament to not having it all figured out, Madelyn didn’t know who was. With a reignited resolve to find answers, Madelyn thought through what to do next.
Striking upon an idea, she quickly put away her weeding supplies and went inside to clean up. Finding a piece of paper, Madelyn jotted a note for Mom and handed it to her as she moved toward the front door.
Mom’s voice stopped her as she put her hand on the doorknob. “Where are you going?”
“Didn’t you read the note?” Madelyn said.
Mom looked bewildered, lifting her eyes from the note she’d had thrust into her hand to meet Madelyn’s gaze. “Since when do you write me notes when you can use your voice?”
Madelyn opened her mouth, the accusation on the tip of her tongue, when the phone rang. It was Zane.
. . .
“Hey, Madelyn. How about that bike ride?” The sides of her mouth started to inch upward until she caught sight of her mom crumpling the note in her fist.
“Uh, yeah,” Madelyn said. “When?”
“Well, Delia and I were thinking about tomorrow around eleven, maybe just riding around the city park, but we could have a picnic lunch. Would that work?”
“Sure. That sounds great.” She turned her body so she couldn’t see Mom, not wanting the pleasant sound of his voice to be diluted with her own frustrations.
“Oh, and Jilly and Daniel are welcome to come.”
“Okay. I just need to check with my mom. I’ll call you right back.”
It took some figuring to work things out because the next day was their day to visit Uncle Tommy. Madelyn didn’t want to miss seeing him, but the thought of spending time with Zane had her stomach doing delightful summersaults. It also came with the added benefit of avoiding all that time in the car with Mom—but that was clearly only a secondary consideration.
“Well, I suppose it would be all right since I’m bringing Tommy back to spend the Fourth with us,” Mom said. Madelyn had totally forgotten that Friday was Independence Day. Usually one of her favorite holidays, she wasn’t sure how she’d feel this year without Dad being around.
“Thanks. And Jilly and Daniel?”
“Better not, just you. Tommy looks forward to our Thursdays. He’d be really disappointed if none of you kids showed up, even if we’re just bringing him home with us.”
Madelyn quickly called Zane to tell him it was okay before Mom changed her mind. It’s funny how a moment ago she was ready to yell at her mom, and now she was trying to curry her favor.
Thursday
The next day Madelyn watched from the garage, sitting astride her bike, as Mom pulled out of the driveway with her siblings in tow. Madelyn waved and smiled at Jillian and Daniel but dropped her hand when she saw Mom. The image of her face was replaced with other images, and Madelyn started to see them the way that Mom must—the street signs she couldn’t decipher or the diner that they never stopped at unless Dad was with them, surely because of the written menus.
Madelyn loved her mother, but the thought of her not being able to do something so simple as reading left a strange distaste in her mouth. How could someone, an adult no less, not know how to read? It was a confusing and troubling thought. Could her mom really be that stupid?
Delia and Zane rode up a short time later, and the three of them took off for the path that circled the city park. Madelyn almost lost control of her bike a couple times because she wasn’t paying attention to the path or the obstacles in front of her—her mind still on the mother who was now a stranger to her.
After enjoying a picnic lunch, Delia ran off to throw a Frisbee with some of her friends, leaving Zane and her to talk.
“What’s up, Madelyn?”
She hesitated to look at him, more content to mindlessly watch Delia and her friends. Madelyn finally shrugged her shoulders, not sure how to respond.
Zane scooted around until he was facing her. “Madelyn?” She had pulled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around them. So, when he spoke, Madelyn hid her face in her knees, unwilling to meet his gaze. She felt him touch her bare feet where she’d kicked off her sneakers and flinched as he did so. “Madelyn, talk to me. What’s up? You seem different.”
Madelyn let out a short laugh and lifted her head. “I don’t know if I’m different, but everything around me apparently is.” He raised his eyebrows, clearly needing more explanation. She took in his earnest look. She wanted to tell him about her mom, but forming the words was hard. So, she said, “I guess I’m just missing my dad,” even as she said it knowing it for the half-truth that it was. Yes, it bothered her, but it had become the itchy wool sweater that you learn to live with.
“I’m sorry,” Zane said, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.
It was a kind gesture, honest and sincere, making her feel bad that she wasn’t being completely honest with him in return. She shrugged her shoulders and started playing with the blades of grass that were tickling her feet. Despite her words, missing Dad had become secondary to everything else—some of it bad, but some of it not, she thought, as she cast a furtive glance in Zane’s direction.
Zane was quiet but turned to sit beside her, gently laying his hand on top of hers. It was protective and warm, and before Madelyn knew what she was doing, she said, “I do miss him, but my mom’s the real problem. I just found out –” Madelyn stopped herself, fearful of what he would think if he knew. She yanked her hand away and buried her face in her palms.
Zane surprised her by not responding, instead pulling his knees up like hers while gazing off into the distance—waiting, waiting for her to decide what to share. Madelyn tipped her head to the side so she could see him through her fingers. His expression was neither passive nor expectant. “You have to promise not to tell a soul.”
He turned to meet her eyes, and with sincerity said, “Okay, I promise.” But his brows were furrowed in concern.
“My mom is illiterate.” Saying it out loud made it real and Madelyn took in a sharp breath.
“Really? Are you sure?” He sounded surprised, but not repulsed like Madelyn had expected.
“Yes, I am. I wasn’t at first, but I am now.” Madelyn found she couldn’t look at him as she talked.
“Well, how do you know?”
“She was reading one of our favorite children’s books, and she messed up the pages. She’s read it so much that she has all the words memorized –”
“Wait. How could she have the words memorized if she can’t read?”
“I don’t know. Maybe my dad taught her or something. She’s been reading the same book since I was little. In fact, now that you ask, I think my dad was the one who used to read it to me. I would sit between the two of them. Dad would read, and Mom and I would listen. But somewhere along the line, she took over the ‘reading.’ I’d forgotten about that.” Madelyn could picture that long-ago bedtime routine, and it was all clicking into place. She brushed the memories away and continued. “Anyway, she was reading it to Jilly, and she had all the words right, but they didn’t match up to the pages. It was one of the pages near the end—she read words for the next page before she actually turned to that page.” He knit his brow in confusion. “Don’t you get it? She’s just memorized all the words, kind of like I did when I was little, only she doesn’t know which words match with which pa
ge. She slipped up.”
“I know that doesn’t seem right, but it doesn’t mean she’s illiterate. It could just be –”
“Then there was yesterday,” Madelyn continued before he could interrupt further. “I asked her about a recipe, and she wouldn’t read it to answer my question. And I’ve been thinking about other things too. My dad stopped the paper for the summer, and I’m paying the bills, but my mom just barely gets through signing her name on the checks, and –”
He put up his hand to stop her mid-sentence. “Maybe you’re right, but how could she be illiterate? Didn’t she graduate from high school? I mean, it’s just hard to believe. You could be right, but that would be incredible …” He was staring past her as he started to ramble.
Madelyn reached into her pocket and pulled out the note she’d written for her mom the previous day. She’d found its crumpled remains in the kitchen garbage that morning. “I had that same argument with myself yesterday, but then I wrote her this note and pretended to leave the house. I tricked her into thinking it was a note about where I was going. She held it in her hand, even looked directly at it, and it never registered.” Madelyn handed him the note.
He smoothed it out then quietly read what was written, “You can’t read this, can you?”
“She couldn’t, Zane. She had no idea what it said. I can’t believe my own mother can’t read—not even a children’s book. Jilly can read, and she’s only seven years old. How could a grown woman not know how to read? Everyone knows how to read!” Madelyn didn’t even try to hide the disappointment bordering on disgust in her voice. “You know, I was watching her listen to Jilly read a chapter book. She had me convinced that she was sitting there listening with a big grin on her face because she loved Jilly and was so proud of her. I don’t know what to make of it now. Was she pleased with what she was getting away with? Was it jealousy?” She shook her head. “She’s fooled us all—but not anymore.”
It was too much to contemplate, and Madelyn abruptly snatched her sneakers and stood up. “I’m sorry for dumping on you, Zane. I wanted to talk to someone, but hearing myself say it out loud … I wish I could take it all back. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” He started to protest, but she stopped him. “No, it’s not you … I just don’t want people to know,” she said, not sure if she was more embarrassed for her mom or for herself. “Please don’t tell anyone.” Then before he could object further, Madelyn grabbed her bike and raced home, leaving a trail of shame following behind her.
Friday
The Fourth of July was typically a fun day for the family. They always caught the city parade in the morning, had a big picnic in the backyard, and then watched the fireworks from their front yard when they were shot off in the city park not far away. Then Dad would supervise them lighting sparklers, and they would dance around with them until way past their bedtime.
But Madelyn was having a hard time warming up to it this year. It would have been bad enough not having Dad around, but now Madelyn was uncomfortable around Mom. To top it off, she had brought Uncle Tommy home with her the previous day as planned. And while Madelyn liked having him around—he always spent holidays with them—Grandpa was usually there too. It didn’t feel right not having them here together.
When everyone left for the parade, Madelyn decided to stay behind. Mom raised a questioning eyebrow, and Uncle Tommy tried to convince her to join them, but Madelyn succeeded in fending them off. Wallowing in self-pity was all the hoopla Madelyn had scheduled for her day.
It was a warm day, so she planted herself on the front porch, sitting on the edge with her feet swinging below her. Uncle Tommy was the only adult who wasn’t a terrible disappointment in her life right now. The list included Mom—the woman raising her, who had been lying to her her whole life; Grandpa—the man who, for some unknown reason, wasn’t around; and even Dad—simply because he wasn’t there. If this is what adults were like, she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to be one. Just then, Mrs. Burnham walked out her front door—as if Madelyn needed further confirmation.
She waved. “Hi, Madelyn. How come you’re not at the parade?” Her typical accusatory tone was still there, but it was tempered with something else, almost a touch of friendliness, but Madelyn didn’t trust it.
“I decided to take a pass.” The next logical response finally dawned on her. Madelyn stood up and without thinking about what she was doing, walked over to Mrs. Burnham’s yard. “Why didn’t you go?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “The last parade I went to was during World War II. We watched rows of soldiers march by, looking so sharp in their uniforms.” There was a wistful quality to her voice, and she was focusing past Madelyn, as if to a distant memory. She stopped talking, but it was clear the memory was still playing itself out before her eyes. Madelyn stood silently waiting for her to continue.
After several minutes, she shook the past from her head and jumped slightly at seeing Madelyn standing there. She pulled herself together before replying, “At any rate, I haven’t been to a parade since.” Abruptly, she turned to head back inside. It made Madelyn wonder why she had come out of her house in the first place.
Curious, Madelyn called after her. “Mrs. Burnham, did you need something?” She stopped in her tracks and turned to eye Madelyn with her familiar glare but said nothing. “You must have come out of your house for something. What was it?”
“Well, I saw you sitting there alone. I wanted to make sure your mother hadn’t skipped town too.”
“Too?”
“Well, yes, like your dad.”
“He’s just out of town for work. He’ll be back. And my mother wouldn’t leave town without me.” Her desire to be friendly to Mrs. Burnham was quickly evaporating.
Mrs. Burnham just shrugged her shoulders. “Well, you never know.”
Madelyn was so surprised by her callous words, and said with such ease, that she hadn’t a clue how to respond. With a huff, Madelyn turned and purposely marched back to her house, opened the front door, and slammed it behind her. She couldn’t believe what Mrs. Burnham had said—and just when she was about to invite her to join her family for their Fourth of July picnic.
By the time the family returned from the parade—Mom and Tommy with smiles and slight sunburns, Jillian and Daniel with pockets full of candy that had been thrown to them—Madelyn was full of regrets for not having gone with them.
She helped Mom prepare the food for their picnic, but as she did so, all she could think of was the fact that Mom couldn’t read a recipe. They were stuck with the things she had already learned how to make—dishes Madelyn assumed she learned how to make from her mother. Dad might be able to make something new, like he’d learned how to make chocolate chip cookies, but not Mom.
Later, when they all gathered around the picnic table out back, eating their same-old, same-old picnic, Uncle Tommy kept glancing at her. “Madly, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I’m fine.”
“But this is your favorite—corn on the cob, baked beans, potato salad, hamburgers –”Madelyn stopped him with a wave of her hand. She didn’t want to be reminded of her favorite foods that now churned her stomach. Without saying a word, she ran inside, hiding in her bedroom.
Her window was open, and as Madelyn sat curled up on the floor, voices drifted in from outside. They were going on with their picnic as if nothing had happened. Madelyn couldn’t believe that on top of everything, they just didn’t care.
Defiantly, she marched back to the picnic outside, sat down at her place, very purposely picked up an ear of corn, and loudly started to gnaw on it. She didn’t know how to confront Mom about her illiteracy, so she did the next best thing. With her mouth full of food, Madelyn said, “So, Mom, why isn’t Grandpa here?”
&nbs
p; Mom got red in the face, but even Tommy was looking at her, waiting for a response. “Madelyn.” It was a single word, just her name, but Madelyn knew what it meant. She’d thrown open a door Mom had purposely locked. It was a betrayal of her trust. Mom stared at her, but Madelyn averted her eyes, knowing she’d gone too far.
“Tommy, Pop would be here if he could, but he can’t. He just can’t, that’s all,” Mom said.
“Why can’t he?” It was Tommy, stepping in where Madelyn could no longer go. She peered up to see how Mom would respond.
Mom was taking in all their expectant faces, deciding on an answer. “He’s too far away. He can’t get here.”
Madelyn wanted to press the issue, but she knew she’d already crossed a line, and Mom’s glare confirmed it. Instead, Madelyn returned to her food—silent, but unwilling to look Mom in the eye.
The rest of the day passed, as all things eventually do. Uncle Tommy produced yo-yos he’d bought for them, and Jillian and Daniel had fun trying to master them—with mixed results. Uncle Tommy seemed caught between playing with them and trying to draw Madelyn out. After unsuccessfully trying to talk to her, he shrugged his shoulders and gave in to the fun of the day. Madelyn sat in full mope on the back step watching them without really seeing them, and unsurprisingly, Mom instinctively avoided her.
Madelyn went to bed that night with the nearby nighttime giggles of Jillian, Daniel, and Uncle Tommy infiltrating her dreams until they became monsters from Where the Wild Things Are, taunting her and boiling her in a pot of soup that was still warm.
She woke up in a sweat while the world was still dark, but the reality of life hit her, and she felt in the pit of her stomach that it was certainly worse than her nightmare.
Saturday
By the time Madelyn went back to sleep and woke up again the next morning, Mom was getting ready to leave with Jillian and Daniel. “Madelyn,” Mom called from down the hall, “we’re taking Uncle Tommy back. Are you okay staying here?”
Dandelion Summer Page 10
