Forgive me, Lord, for breaking Your command to obey my mother and father. I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t open the door when my dad knocked on it tonight. I couldn’t talk to him. Not now. Even though he said he was sorry.
I wish I hadn’t left my phone on the kitchen table. How I would’ve loved to call Mom to hear if she is all right. I’m sure she’ll be at Aunt Sandy’s, so I know she’s in good hands.
Though maybe it’s better if I don’t talk to my parents right now. I need to take a step back—in fact a lot of steps back. I need to be far away from this situation because I’m so confused right now. I have no idea what happened here tonight. I don’t understand my father’s reasoning, or why You have allowed things to come to this. All I know is that I can’t stand being in this house with its turmoil any longer. I know what I need to do—soon as Dad has left for work in the morning—and I pray that You will help me and keep me safe. If I don’t do this immediately, I never will, and things will probably go on as they always have—nothing will change, and I could bear that even less.
Thankfully I never unpacked my bags earlier, choosing to spend the time with You instead. Thank you for supplying what I will need in all that money I got for my birthday from my grandpa and grandmother.
If my parents can’t reconcile, they’ll expect me to choose between them.
I can’t.
And I won’t.
I know You’ll understand my actions.
All my love
Your beloved child
Charity
Chapter Sixteen
“YOU LOOK awful.” Sandy set a mug of coffee down on her kitchen table in front of Madison.
Wrapping her hands around the smooth, warm surface, Madison gazed up at her friend through swollen eyes, unable to muster a smile. “Thanks. You certainly know how to cheer a girl up.”
Sandy grinned. “I hope you’re talking about the coffee. And you’re welcome.”
Madison shook her head.
“As for your appearance…just the honest truth. There’s no hiding that.” Sandy slid onto the seat next to Madison, reached for her hand and squeezed. “But you still look beautiful in your awfulness, if there’s such a thing.”
She stared at Madison as if examining her red-rimmed eyes, scrutinizing every line Madison felt had materialized on her face this morning. “I do wish you’d slept late though.”
Madison sighed. “I couldn’t. In fact, I don’t think I slept much at all last night.”
Sandy sipped her coffee, her brows rising above the mug’s rim. She swallowed the liquid. “So, we can’t blame those eyes on tears alone?”
Elbows to the table, Madison rested her brow against her palms and shook her head. “Everything is such a mess. My marriage. My future—I don’t even know to what extent my daughter will be a part of that. My career. And now the exhibition too.” She leaned back and stared at Sandy. “If Brody refuses to let me have my artworks back, I’ll have nothing to send Ellie and not enough time to paint sufficient new pieces. I only have a handful in the studio, and for all I know, Brody might’ve already changed the house locks. I might not be able to retrieve my canvases, easels, paints, and brushes.”
“He wouldn’t be that cruel, would he?” Her soft gaze sympathetic to Madison’s quandary, Sandy twirled the spoon that lay on the table in front of her.
Madison shrugged, closing her eyes for a brief moment to gather her thoughts. “Who knows what Brody is capable of at the moment? It’s as if I don’t know him. I’m so puzzled by his behavior and the things he has said and done. Do you think he was perhaps in a serious relationship before I met him—maybe even engaged—and had his heart broken by some other woman? It’s the only explanation I can think of for him accusing me of being ‘just like her’. Whoever this woman was in his life, she must’ve put her career before him. Now he’s terrified I’ll do the same.”
Sandy stopped twirling the spoon for which Madison was thankful. It was beginning to grate on her frayed nerves. She smiled. “Which you would never do, Mads. I know you. You’re so committed to Brody, so in love with him—despite your frequent blow ups. It’s hard to comprehend why he can’t see that.”
Madison sighed again. “What I did by entering Art USA and then going to New York, I did for us, for our business. Definitely not for any self-gain—although there were times I doubted my motivation. I–I thought this would be good for us, but I guess I was wrong.”
Baxter bounded into the kitchen, excited to see Madison again. He’d reacted the same way last night when she’d arrived on Sandy’s doorstep. His tail thwacked against the legs of Madison’s chair, then Sandy’s.
Madison reached down and ruffled his coat. “Hey, boy. You hungry? You want some food?”
Melinda rushed into the kitchen, relief flooding her face. “Oh good, there you are. Bad dog!” She scooped Baxter up into her arms. “He’s so fast when he slips through the slightest gap to escape a room.”
“Tell me about it. And Charity.” Tears welled again in Madison’s eyes at the thought of her daughter, alone at home. Unless Brody had taken the day off to spend with her. If only Charity would answer her calls she could know if it was safe to pop home for a short while. Maybe Brody had confiscated her phone.
“Mom, I’m walking down to Charity with Baxter. She’s dy— I’m sure she’s dying to get him back.” Melinda laughed. “And I can surely do with a break from him.”
Melinda’s gaze shot to Madison. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, Aunt Mads. I’ve loved every minute of having him, but he can be quite a handful.”
Didn’t she know that so well?
Madison jumped at an excuse to go home. “I can drive you there.”
Melinda shook her head. “That’s not at all necessary. Really. Baxter needs the exercise, as do I. And I think under the circumstances, Charity just needs a friend around to cheer her up. No parents—again, no offense, Aunt Mads—just me and her for the day. Okay?”
Madison nodded. “I get it. I’m like that too. When I’m miserable, all I want is my best friend.” She glanced at Sandy and turned her bottom lip down.
Sandy leaned closer and drew her into a hug. “Oh my friend. This, too, will pass.”
“I’ll be on my way then.” Melinda waved and turned.
“Not so fast, young lady,” Sandy barked. “What about breakfast?”
Melinda shrugged. “I’ll get something to eat at Aunt Mads’s house. She always has yummy food in the fridge.”
“Yes, she does,” Sandy said. “But remember that she’s been away for a week.”
The teenager flashed her mother a cheeky smile. “I’ll take my chances.”
“W–will you give her my love?” Madison asked. “Tell her that I’ve been calling and texting. Ask her to call me. Please.”
“I will. See you later.” Melinda exited the kitchen, Baxter quite happy to be in her arms.
Brody didn’t bother to pull his SUV into the garage as he planned to treat Charity to supper. Whatever she was in the mood to eat. And if that was strawberry banana pancakes at Crepes, he’d drive all the way back to Emporia for her. Anything to keep his little girl happy. Especially now.
He had felt bad leaving her home alone all day, so he’d arranged to take tomorrow off. Yes, Wednesday’s were Ava’s half day off, but his assistant had jumped at the opportunity to be trusted with more responsibilities in the gallery, opting to take Thursday afternoon off instead, but only if Brody could spare her.
He did need to delegate more to Ava, especially now that Madison would no longer be an integral part of the business. Would she even be any part? He couldn’t see how he could work with his wife any longer, given the circumstances. Besides, Madison now had the endorsement of the great Ellie Sanders—why would she need Peterson Galleries to make a living? Not to mention the 50K she’d won. That would go some ways to setting up her own gallery or studio. Likely, she’d go home to Daddy, so he needn’t worry that she wouldn’t have a roof over her head.
Madison would be set, and she’d be well taken care of.
This is what she’d wanted. So this is what she got.
But one thing she wouldn’t get—Charity. He would fight Madison with everything he possessed to keep custody of his daughter and continue to raise her in Cottonwood Falls. Many men were single fathers today. He had no doubt he could do it too.
He opened the front door and shouted, “Charity!”
Only a deathly quiet answered him.
She was probably in her room with her headphones on.
Brody bolted up the stairs, his pulse beating faster. Her bedroom door stood open, and he rushed inside.
Empty.
His gaze lowered, and he spotted the prayer journal Faith had given Charity for her birthday lying on the floor near her bed. He picked it up and set it down on the nightstand beside her bed.
Had she gone out? To find her mother maybe?
Brody took the stairs two at a time on his way down.
Standing at the open door between the kitchen and the garage, Brody stared at the emptiness that greeted him. She must’ve gone to Sandy’s house.
He yanked his cell phone from his shirt pocket and tried Charity’s phone. It rang several times before diverting to voicemail.
“Charity, honey, where are you? Call me.”
Heaving a sigh, he dialed Madison’s number for the first time in over a week.
Standing in front of the black, marble-topped island in the middle of Sandy’s kitchen, Madison cut the freshly-peeled carrots into thick slices. She turned to Sandy. “I can’t understand why I haven’t been able to raise Charity on her phone since last night.”
She lifted the board with the carrot slices and turned to the stove to drop the orange vegetables into the bright green Dutch oven beside Sandy’s newly-added potatoes. The carrots sank into the dark, meaty sauce of her friend’s famed All-American Beef Stew, laden with chunks of meat, onion, garlic, and spices.
“Brody must’ve confiscated it as punishment for going with me to New York,” Madison said. “It’s the only explanation I can give for Charity not answering or returning my calls.”
“Maybe.” Sandy covered the pot once again with the heavy lid.
Madison and Sandy worked well together in the kitchen.
Almost as well as she and Brody always had.
Her heart squeezed.
Sandy brushed her blond hair from her face then placed her hand on her hip, the dishtowel she’d used to move the hot lid dangling from her fingers. “If my daughter hadn’t been in such a rush this morning and left her phone at home, you could’ve contacted Charity that way. Melinda should be home soon though. We can find out everything once she’s back. Maybe Charity will even bring her home in her car? Then you can see your baby and ask her yourself.”
Sinking onto a stool beside the island, Madison sighed. She lifted her wine glass and took a sip of the fruity white liquid Sandy had poured earlier. “I hope so.”
The front door banged shut, drawing their attention.
Sandy’s brows quirked. “Speaking of the devil…”
“Hi, Mom. Bye, Mom.” Melinda’s feet pounded up the stairs.
Sandy threw the dishtowel down and shouted, “Wait a minute… Where are you going young lady?”
“I’ll be down shortly, Mom.” Melinda’s bedroom door slammed shut.
What on earth was her daughter’s friend up to?
Madison resisted the urge to scurry up those stairs to ask the teen herself, but with dinner nearly ready, Melinda would be down soon enough. Then she could ask for explanations to her heart’s content.
Madison’s gaze shifted to where Sandy joined her on the opposite side of the high island.
A cell phone chimed and Sandy reached for the phone beside her. “It’s yours.” She handed the phone to Madison.
One glance at the caller ID and Madison’s heart slammed into her ribs.
Brody?
“Hey,” she answered in a soft voice, praying he was calling to reconcile.
“Is Charity there with you?” Still no warmth in her husband’s voice. He still sounded just as angry with her as he’d been since she’d told him about the contest.
“No... I haven’t seen or spoken with her today. Why?”
“She’s not at home.”
Unease washed over Madison. “S–she must be. Melinda was with her all day.” Unless… “Listen, Melinda just walked in. Perhaps Charity dropped her off and she’s headed back home as we speak. I’ll run upstairs and check with her. I’ll call you back.”
“No!” Brody snapped, then his voice softened as he continued, “I’d rather hold, if you don’t mind.”
“All right…” Madison rose.
Sandy looked up, her frown questioning as she mouthed, Is everything all right?
Madison nodded. At least, she hoped everything was all right, that there was a simple explanation as to why Charity wasn’t home.
The two friends raced upstairs to Melinda’s bedroom door. Reaching it, Sandy knocked. “Melinda, can we come inside?”
A moment’s silence ensued before Melinda responded, “Sure, Mom.”
Sandy opened the door and swung it wide.
Madison stepped inside after her.
Melinda’s head snapped toward them from where she sat cross-legged on her bed, phone discarded beside her.
“Melinda, sweetheart…” Madison neared the bed. “Did Charity bring you home in her car?”
Wide, innocent eyes—perhaps a little too innocent—stared back at Madison. The teenager shook her head. “No, Aunt Mads. I walked home. Oh, and I left Baxter with Charity. I hope that’s okay, seeing as she’s back.”
“That’s fine. So Charity was still at home when you left?” Madison pressed.
Melinda lowered her head and tucked her hands under her legs. She breathed in deeply and nodded.
What wasn’t she telling them? Or was Madison merely imagining she was hiding something. Teens these days didn’t like to make eye-contact with adults at the best of times—particularly if they thought they were in trouble over something.
“D–did she say if she was going somewhere?” Madison wasn’t sure if she’d get an honest answer out of Melinda.
Melinda’s pink lips pursed together and her brown bob swayed as she shook her head.
Madison exhaled. “All right.”
She turned to go then paused. “Do you know why Charity didn’t answer my calls or texts today?”
“Um…Mr. Peterson took her phone away from her last night.”
She knew it. The louse.
Speaking of, she’d totally forgotten she’d muted the call and Brody was still on the phone.
“Please let me know if you hear from her.”
“I will, Aunt Mads.” Melinda shifted her gaze to her mother. “Is dinner ready yet, Mom? I’m starving, and it smells sooo good.”
Sandy smiled. “Fifteen to twenty minutes. We’ll see you downstairs after you’ve washed up.”
Madison unmuted the call as she strode toward the staircase. “Brody? You still there?”
“Yes. A–any news from Melinda on Charity?” Concern clung to his words like wet paint to a palette.
“She claims Charity was still at home when she left. That couldn’t have been more than a half hour ago. Maybe she went down to the store to get something for dinner. Or to see another friend.”
“I don’t like it, Madison. This isn’t like her at all. I’m worried.”
She didn’t need him flipping out about something else now. “Brody. I’m sure she’s fine. She’s a good driver. Drove most of the way home yesterday from Kansas City. She’s probably gone down to see Shana. Or Ethan. That’s all.”
“We should call them.”
Sigh. Typical Brody to get all paranoid. Then again, it did seem as if Melinda wasn’t being totally forthcoming. They’d probably find their daughter was visiting Ethan. Now that Madison realized her baby was starting to notice bo
ys, it would make sense that Melinda would hide such information from her best friend’s parents.
“Brody, give her another thirty minutes. If she’s not home by six thirty, message me and I’ll call Candice to ask Shana, and you can call Duncan to check with Ethan. All right?”
Brody huffed out an okay.
“Don’t worry, honey. I’m sure she’s fine,” Madison soothed before she cut the call. By now she had followed Sandy all the way into the kitchen.
Her friend paused beside the stove and lifted the Dutch oven’s lid. She stirred the bubbling liquid, shifting the meat and vegetables around.
“Hmm, looks good.” Madison closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “Smells even better.”
Sandy set the lid back on the pot. “So where do you think Charity has disappeared to? Because I have a feeling that my daughter isn’t telling us the whole truth.”
“I get that feeling too. If she isn’t, then I’d hazard a guess Charity is visiting a boy…probably Ethan. It’s not surprising that my sweet girl would act out like this, even though it is out of character for her. This situation between me and Brody is hurting her, so I don’t blame her really.”
“For sure she’s hurting, Mads.” Sandy touched Madison’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. “I’ll see if I can get anything out of Melinda over dinner, okay?”
Madison shook her head. “Don’t. I don’t want to cause problems between you two. I’m sure Charity will be home soon. She may be upset, but she has a good head on her shoulders.”
She rubbed her hands together and ran her tongue over her lips. “How much longer until we eat. I’m literally salivating for that stew of yours.”
Sandy chuckled. “You sound just like Melinda. I think ten more minutes and the vegetables will be soft. Then I just need to thicken the sauce. So, thirteen minutes tops, I’d say. Why don’t you set the table in the meantime?”
By six thirty, they’d finished eating and their dirty plates and silverware had been stacked in the dishwasher. Melinda quickly excused herself to take a shower. Madison and Sandy agreed that was just a ploy to avoid them, but what could they do?
Reclaiming Charity (The Potter's House Books Book 21) Page 14
