Leaning against the wall at the wide entrance to the living room, Madison surveyed her handiwork. Her gaze came to rest on the towering, sweet masterpiece standing on a smaller table in the corner of the dining room. The red velvet birthday cake covered in white fondant was decorated with pink hearts in different shades on the large bottom tier, pink and brown vertical stripes on the middle cake, and polka dots in the same two colors on the small top layer. Edible pink peonies finished the culinary work of art. And although magnificent, Madison suddenly wondered at the wisdom in her choice of three layers. Unless she sent her guests home with chunks of the sweet stuff, the three of them were going to be eating cake for days.
Overhead, triangular party flags, the color of the cake’s embellishments, zigzagged the ceiling—both the length and the breadth of the room.
Madison glanced up at the wall clock. Eleven a.m. She only had an hour to get ready before their guests started arriving.
Angst tightened her gut. What was keeping Brody and Charity? They were cutting it fine—they both needed to get ready for the party too.
And Charity was the guest of honor.
About to head upstairs for a shower, Madison suddenly remembered. The painting. She’d almost forgotten to put it on display.
She hurried to the studio and grabbed her finest easel. After setting it up in one corner of the living room, she returned for the newly-painted canvas and a draping cloth. With the fabric tucked beneath her arm, she carefully carried the portrait to the easel, thankful that Baxter was safely locked away in the bathroom.
Taking a step back, she admired the painting one more time before pulling the drape over it, hiding her work from the world. For now. Her heart swelled with pride. This was her finest piece ever, of that she had no doubt. But then, she had painted this one with so much love.
Madison had just stepped out of the shower and plopped onto the chair in front of her dresser when Charity and Brody pounded up the stairs.
“We’re home,” Brody shouted.
“Hi, Mom, gotta rush to get ready,” Charity’s voice filtered through to the master bedroom.
Brody strode into the room, hands in his jeans pockets. “You’re not ready yet?” He glanced at the Tag Heuer on his wrist.
Towel wrapped tightly around her body, Madison lifted her brush and pulled it through her wet hair with a sigh. “It was quite a morning getting everything organized, but it all looks amazing. Fit for a princess.” She twisted around to look at Brody. “You did come in through the kitchen door, right?”
Nodding, Brody chuckled. “Avoided the party area, as you instructed…several times.”
“Good.” Madison turned back to attend to her hair, her gaze constantly flitting to Brody’s reflection in the mirror.
“I’ll just change out of these jeans and T-shirt into something a little more—” Brody bowed and his hair fell across his face. Rising, he raked the long fringe back. “Regal. Then I’ll take a stroll downstairs to admire your handiwork.”
Madison set the brush down and moaned, the heavy sigh more exaggerated than the last. The need to unburden her hectic morning to her husband overwhelmed. He’d spent the past few hours relaxing with their daughter; he had no idea how stressful her morning had been. And he should know.
“What a morning…cooking, baking, cleaning, setting up…”
“I told you to get caterers in.”
Madison narrowed her gaze. “And I told you I could do it way better. Besides, I did get help with the cake and having prepared much beforehand, it was mostly a matter of popping things into the oven and then plating them. I’d barely finished the last batch of sausage swirls when the bakery arrived with the cake. It looks amazing. But between them and me fighting for working space in the dining room, and Baxter under our feet, I eventually had to lock the poor pooch in our bathroom. To compound matters, before I could take a shower, I had to first clean up all the pee and poop, not to mention the toilet roll he’d managed to unroll and drag merrily across the entire bathroom. Yes, through all his smelly business.”
“You poor baby.” Brody wrapped his fingers around her bare shoulders. Leaning forward, he kissed her cheek.
Madison continued, “In fact, the pup’s still in there. So as soon as you or Charity are ready, one of you will need to take him outside. But please, make sure he doesn’t get loose in the house as he could wreak havoc.”
Brody straightened. “I’m sorry you had such a rough morning. I would’ve been here to help, but you insisted that Charity needed to be out of the house all morning. And although I love to cook, I couldn’t have handled that menu on my own. Tell you what. I’ll make it up to you with a romantic dinner after work one night during the week. Okay? Charity can sleep over at Sandy’s house.”
Thank heavens for Sandy, always willing to have Charity sleep over when Madison and Brody needed time alone, usually to make up after a tiff. And of course, Charity was always eager to spend time with Melinda, not only her best friend but Sandy’s daughter too.
Madison took her hat off to her friend, raising a daughter on her own. It couldn’t be easy. Fortunately, Sandy’s late husband had left her well provided for after he passed away six years ago, so at least she didn’t have to work two jobs as some single mothers do. And in all that time, Sandy had never so much as looked at another man. Grant had been her life, her soulmate.
As Brody was hers.
Madison watched in the mirror as Brody whipped off his T-shirt and grabbed a fresh dress shirt from his closet. A pale blue that complemented the color of his eyes. His back muscles sculpted like a Michelangelo statue as he lifted his well-toned arms and shrugged into the fancier threads. Eight years her senior, Brody was still as good looking at forty-three as the day she’d met him. She never tired of admiring him.
Okay, enough gawking. You have guests arriving in less than thirty minutes.
“So what did you and Charity get up to this morning?” she asked as she turned the can of hair mousse upside down and pressed the trigger. A ball of white foam formed in her palm. She quickly fingered it into her hair as Brody flashed a smile.
“What didn’t we get up to? First I took her for breakfast at Crepes—”
“Great choice. She loves that place. Did she have her usual—?”
“Strawberry banana pancakes,” they said in unison, laughing.
“After which, we test drove a couple of small, second hand cars.” He winked as he stepped into a pair of dark blue trousers then pulled them up around his waist. “You know, befuddle her a bit, just in case she has any inkling that we’ve already bought her a car.”
Brody slid his feet into a pair of tan leather shoes with monk straps, then snagged Madison’s brush from the dresser. He brushed his hair back, tying it once again in the signature short ponytail that hung just over his collar.
So artsy.
So Brody Peterson.
Returning her brush to the dresser, Brody said, “There, I’m done. I’ll take the dog out—on a leash—before having a gander at all your hard work.”
“Thank you, honeybunch.” Madison blew him a kiss then lifted the hairdryer. She paused before flicking on the switch. “Baxter will need to be returned to the bathroom before everyone arrives. Can you just imagine him being let loose at the party? My mother, for one, would have a notable fit.”
“Your wish is my command, my darling.” Another gallant bow from her knight in shining armor.
By the time Brody returned with the leash, Madison was halfway through drying her hair. It was the wild look for her today. A little hair gel added to the mousse, a little scrunching here and there, and she’d be done. Then she could put on her makeup and get dressed. She watched Brody’s reflection as he slipped into the bathroom for a few minutes before Baxter dragged him out and down the passage.
Her mouth quirked. Good thing for that leash.
Madison finished styling her hair then quickly applied some light makeup. After years of practice, she had i
t down to ten minutes.
Excited, she stepped into the stunning new dress she’d bought for the occasion. A hugging lace sheath design in a pink so soft it was almost white. She loved the off-shoulder neckline that could be worn with the shoulders exposed or covered. The day was warm, so she opted to show a little skin. At least the above-elbow sleeves would make up some coverage. The dress was perhaps an inch or two shorter than she would’ve liked, but she did have the legs to pull it off. Besides, she was only thirty-five, not a hundred-and-thirty-five. It’s not as if she was going out there as mutton dressed as lamb.
And Brody did enjoy having a beautiful wife at his side. As long as no other man gave her an ounce of attention. That always resulted in her husband’s uncalled-for jealousy rearing its ugly head which led to huge arguments between them. Why, after all these years of marriage, did he still seem so afraid of losing her? And if she asked him the reason for his insecurities, it merely led to more fighting.
Madison had even plucked up the courage to ask Faith about it once. Brody’s sister said she had no idea, but pointed out that Brody had always been like that, even with her and their brother, Tyler.
It was as if Brody was terrified to lose anyone close to him.
Madison sprayed a little of her favorite perfume on her pulse points, enjoying the soft, floral notes. She took one more look at herself in the mirror. Perfect. Now it was time to get downstairs. Her guests would be arriving soon, and Brody and she had even more wonderful surprises planned for Charity besides the car and the painting.
As she turned to go, Brody entered the bedroom.
He stopped dead, jaw slapping the floor. His eyes widened. “You’re not wearing that are you? To our daughter’s birthday party? Who’s the sixteen year old here?” he snapped. “You, or Charity?”
His words stung. Disbelief washed over Madison, and she stared at him, mouth open, formulating a response.
She narrowed her eyes. “This is by no means a sixteen-year-old’s dress. It’s elegant and chic. I’d never allow Charity to wear something like this at her age.”
Brody marched closer. He grabbed the hem. “It’s far too short.” Then he gripped the waist, tugging the fabric sideways. “And it’s too tight.”
Madison clamped her fingers over his, digging them into Brody’s skin. “Take your hands off me.”
When Brody’s hand fell away, Madison whipped the dress over her head, not caring that she’d probably messed her hair. Good thing she had opted for the wild look.
And wild was exactly how she felt right now, ready to kill.
She flung the dress across the bed then whipped open her closet, grabbing the first thing she laid her hands on—a formal pants set in taupe with matching shoestring beaded top and a long-sleeved chiffon jacket of the same color. It would do.
“There. Now I look more like the mother of the bride than the mother of the sweet-sixteen birthday girl,” Madison snapped, shooting Brody a scathing look. “Satisfied?”
Why did he have such mood swings—one moment loving, irrational the next? Yes, she could just as easily flip the switch from hot to cold, but normally only when Brody pushed her buttons. Which he often did. And poor Charity bore the brunt of watching or hearing her parents’ tiffs.
They needed to get their act together, for their daughter’s sake.
Despite knowing that, it wasn’t easy to change who they were.
Madison stiffened as Brody wrapped her in an embrace and whispered, “Much better, babe. Much better.”
Lips pursed, Brody challenged Madison’s glare.
She whirled around and flung her blond hair over her shoulder, uttering a suppressed scream before stomping out of the room in her high-heels. Good thing he hadn’t suggested she change those shoes as well. Which might not have been a bad idea. For sure her feet would tire in those heels, and even wearing a pants suit, her legs still looked long and attractive.
And why was she so mad at him? The dress, although beautiful, was inappropriate for this affair. Sometimes she could be so feisty, he wondered if she wasn’t an undercover redhead.
But he had to do what he had to do—his marriage needed protection. Not to mention their business. He wouldn’t allow anything to threaten that. If his father had been more firm, maybe…
He pushed away the negative thoughts that pressed in. Today was not the day to revisit the moment that had forever defined him, changing the way he interacted with those close to him.
He would not be abandoned again. Not by anyone or anything.
As Madison marched down the staircase, Brody popped his head back inside Charity’s room. He had left Baxter there moments before so the two could spend a little time together seeing as Charity had been out all morning, and she’d be separated from her precious pup once again this afternoon.
Spread out on her bed, Charity played with Baxter.
“Are you ready?” Brody enquired from the doorway. “Your mother’s already downstairs. We should probably get down there too, but not before putting that little pooch back in our bathroom.”
Propping her head on her elbow, Charity rolled onto her side and glanced at Brody. Her bottom lip jutted out. “Aw, Dad, do we have to? Poor thing has been locked up all day. Can’t he join the fun?”
“No, Charity. Baxter will be too disruptive, and with so many people around, he could get overwhelmed and afraid. Not to mention the risk of someone tripping over him. He could get badly hurt.” He didn’t need to contend with a lawsuit. “It’s best he’s in our bathroom, out of the way. Just for today. Bring his bed and some toys. They’ll keep him amused. You might even find he’ll sleep the afternoon away. Your mom said he’d had a busy morning, so he’s probably tired himself out. He’s still only a small baby, remember.”
Charity rolled her eyes. “You mean puppy, Dad. Dogs can’t be babies; they’re not humans.” She slid off the bed, her white pumps landing on the plush pile. She pushed to her feet. The peachy fabric of her sleeveless dress swished around her body before the hemline settled around her knees. Madison had made a great choice, even though he knew it hadn’t been easy getting their daughter to agree not to don her favorite denim cut-offs and red and white check shirt, and to wear this dress instead. For the sake of her visiting grandparents.
Pity Madison had lacked judgement in her own selection of clothing.
“I like your dress, Charity. Well-chosen.”
Charity twirled around, and the skirt flared. Her mouth skewed to one side. “I feel like a bell.”
Baxter lifted his head, ears pricking. With a sharp yap, he bounded off the bed to run circles around Charity as he nipped at her dress.
Brody grabbed him before the pup’s teeth found their target and Charity was left having to change outfits as well. His fingers sank into Baxter’s soft fur. “Well, you do know that bells have the sweetest sound.”
After they’d settled the puppy in the bathroom, Brody linked his arm in his daughter’s.
When they got to the stairs, she paused and turned to him. Uncertain eyes searched his. She sucked in a breath. “C–can I ask you something?”
“Sure, pumpkin. Anything.” Brody had an inkling he knew what was on her mind.
“Did you and Mom just have a fight?”
Brody stroked a hand over her reddish-blond hair. “It was nothing, princess. Just a minor difference of opinion, that’s all. We’re fine now.” He hoped. Madison was pretty mad when she marched out of their bedroom.
Worrying her bottom lip, Charity offered him a brittle smile. “Okay… Because I really don’t want anything to spoil my birthday. I’ll never get this sweet-sixteen over again.”
“Honey, nothing will mar your day. It’s going to be the best day of your life, I promise.”
With the sound of arriving guests filtering up from below, Brody proudly walked his daughter down the stairs. Despite their personal issues, he and Madison had managed to raise one amazing kid.
He glanced at Charity out the corner of h
is eye.
Kid? She was no longer a kid. When they hadn’t been looking, she had blossomed into a beautiful young lady.
Chapter Three
“CHARITY HONEY, come and see who the wind blew in,” Madison shouted from the hallway. Excitement flooded over her earlier frustration at Brody and washed it away.
“Hey, birthday girl,” Faith, Brody’s sister and Charity’s favorite aunt called.
Charity shrieked, running into the hallway where the first arrivals stood. “Aunt Faith!” She wrapped her arms around Faith in an affectionate hug.
When Faith released her niece, she leaned back to take a good look at her. “You look so beautiful.”
A blush washed Charity’s cheeks. “Like my dress? Not too often you see me in one of these.” With a roll of the eyes and a laugh, she twirled around.
Faith smoothed a hand down the soft chiffon of Charity’s skirt. “It’s gorgeous. Did your mom choose it? She has such amazing taste. This X-line is perfect for your petite figure, and I absolutely adore the lace bodice.”
Madison stepped forward, not quite willing to take all the credit, even though she could. “We both decided on this one, although it took some convincing to get Charity to dress this fancy for her party.”
“Backed against a brick wall, this was my best option.” Charity shrugged, a smile cracking the thin line of her pursed lips.
“Well, it’s beautiful and a most fitting choice.” Faith handed Charity a small gift bag. “Just a little something special from me to you. We’ll put your birthday gift on the gift table.”
Charity peeked inside. “A new prayer journal! Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you.” She withdrew the journal, covered in bright red poppies, and hugged it to her chest, the gift bag dangling from her fingers. “In the nick of time. My last one is almost full.”
Reclaiming Charity (The Potter's House Books Book 21) Page 3
