Simply Mad (Girls of Wonder Lane Book 1)

by Christina Coryell

  Like I said, decidedly uncool.

  The phone rings, and I immediately know exactly who is calling. Smiling to myself, I pull the phone up to my ear.

  “This better be important. I have a hot date tonight.”

  “With my mother,” he quips with a laugh.

  “Thank you for the tickets, Josh. I’m really excited. Stupidly excited.”

  “I can tell. I can hear it in your voice.” He pauses and I use the opportunity to cross to the window and peek out the blinds to see if Hazel has arrived yet. “I wish I was there. I’d take you myself.”

  “Yes, well, I’m sure you’d find it incredibly boring, with all the gushy mushy romantic stuff and everything.”

  “Probably,” he admits. “I did read the book you loved, though…Crossing Heartbreak. I wanted to see what was so great about the main character that would make the hero ‘pine away’ for her all that time, as you so poetically stated.”

  “Please don’t tell me you hated it. I’ll have to boot you just like that teacher guy, whatever-his-name-was.”

  “No, don’t boot me,” he begs with a laugh. “It was a good story, but she was just a fairly ordinary girl.”

  “Well, yeah, that’s kind of the point,” I say, plopping down on the couch. “It’s not a story about incredible people—it’s a story about ordinary people who share an incredible love. That’s what I’m hoping for myself, eventually. Goodness knows I’m about as ordinary as they come.”

  “You’re not looking for someone ordinary,” he counters, a hint of sarcasm creeping into his voice. “Sure, maybe you’ll give a guy the time of day, if he’s exactly the right height, laughs properly, has the same taste as you in reading materials, doesn’t eat any food you think is gross, his facial structure is perfectly symmetrical…”

  “Hey, what is this, another ambush? You’re worried about my stellar dating strategies? Your mom’s not coming over here to stage another intervention, is she?”

  “No, forget it,” he breathes with a sigh of exasperation—a sound that makes my heart drop in my chest a couple inches. “How is the pirate, anyway?”

  Pulling my knees up against my chest on the couch, I fiddle with the hem on my jeans as I listen to the quiet sound of him breathing on the other end of the line.

  “Pirate? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Your tennis instructor, with the long flowing hair and the goatee. He looks like the guy from that pirate movie.”

  Oh, whatever, he really doesn’t look like…

  Well, on second thought, I guess he might resemble him a little.

  “He’s nothing like a pirate.”

  “I never said he acted like a pirate, I simply said he looks like a pirate. But now that you’re protesting, I think maybe I spoke too hastily. Arr, Maddie, be ye here to learn the art of tennis this fine day? Just let me remove ye olde hook and replace it with ye olde tennis racket. Aha! Shiver me timbers, but don’t make me run too far, on account of me olde peg leg.”

  “Very funny, Josh, but there’s nothing going on between me and Max.” Not yet, anyway. “Besides, how do you even know about him? I didn’t mention him to you.”

  “Jess.”

  “What did Jess say about him? This is a little annoying! Don’t you people know the meaning of privacy?”

  “You’re interested in him, that’s all. I’m surprised you didn’t bother to mention it to me, but I get it. Is there anything to this one other than the fact that he’s good looking?”

  “Of course not, just a handsome pirate,” I quip, shaking my head. “Honestly, Josh, sometimes I think you must believe I’m the shallowest person in the world. Max is funny and intelligent, and we have lengthy conversations about lots of things. He hopes to travel to Barbados soon—that’s where his father lives. He has a shipping business there.”

  “So the guy who’s definitely not a pirate has a ship in Barbados?”

  “Sometimes you’re on a ship. Does that make you a pirate?”

  “I’m in the Navy,” he counters quickly.

  There are days when I can almost forget what Josh is really doing with his life, and then he makes statements like that and his words sort of smack me about the head.

  Hearing a door slam, I rise again and check the window, but all I see is a moving van parked next door. Peering around the blinds, I wait to see if I catch some movement.

  “Are you still there?” Josh wants to know.

  “Yeah, sorry, a moving van just pulled up next door and I got distracted. And there’s your mom pulling in now, so I better go.”

  “Okay, well, I hope you have a great time. And I wish you lots of happiness with the pirate.”

  “As I wish you joy in your delusions, crazy man.” I blow his words off with a shake of my head. “Goodnight, Joshua.”

  “Mad,” he says right before the phone goes silent.

  “Hey!” I announce, opening the door right as Hazel is set to knock on it, hand still lifted precariously in midair. “Are we ready? I just got off the phone with Josh, and he hopes we have fun.”

  “I’m sure we will,” she answers with a smile. “Looks like you’re getting new neighbors. Do you know who they are?”

  Stepping out onto the porch, I look to my left at the moving van. “No, I didn’t even realize the house was empty, to be honest. I guess I…”

  My speech is suddenly cut short, because at that precise moment a man walks around the front of that van, and Lord have mercy, he is spectacular. He has short acorn-brown tinted hair that’s a little longer near the front, and a swagger that quickly informs me that he’s sure of himself. For an instant he catches my eye and nods with a smile, just long enough for me to note the dimple in his cheek.

  “What were you saying, Maddie?” Hazel interrupts my thoughts.

  “Oh, I have no idea,” I mutter, trying to pull my eyes away from him. He grabs his wallet off the dash of the van and shoves it into his back pocket right as a little girl streams out of the house and runs directly to him.

  So the handsome guy has a kid…big deal. I could handle a kid, right? I’m sure I’d be a really stellar stepmother. Not like the one Cinderella had.

  “Bailey?!” I hear a female voice yell, and I glance over at the house to see a woman strolling toward them, dressed in a football jersey with a baseball cap perched atop her head.

  So the handsome guy has a kid and a woman…big deal. I could handle…

  No, definitely not. Total deal breaker. Sorry, handsome guy. This ship has sailed.

  Besides, what am I even thinking? It’s Max, right? My focus should be on Max.

  He could definitely be the one.

  Camdyn Taylor is really nothing like I thought she would be. Don’t get me wrong, she’s great. I suppose I just expected…

  Well, to be honest, I had two very different pictures in my head. First, there was this stodgy kind of history lady who knew all the ins and outs of pioneer life and early American politics. She was naturally full of facts and unknown tidbits, and mildly fascinating.

  The second picture was of the woman I saw on television, barfing into a plant and being proposed to by everyone she met. I expected this woman to be almost like a stand-up comedienne, and to entertain us with one-liners about the publishing world and her big Hollywood friends.

  Instead, she’s just kind of…normal.

  When she was talking about how she met her husband, getting lost in the middle of nowhere, I swear I was on the edge of my seat. What I wouldn’t give for a great meeting like that! What am I going to tell my kids some day? Yeah, sweetie, I met your dad when Cooper sent me over to Big Cedar to take tennis lessons. It’s not very romantic. Of course, there is still time for him to sweep me off my feet and take me to Barbados, so the story isn’t exactly written in stone.

  Then, she talked about reconciling with her mother, who basically abandoned her when she was four years old. I have to admit, the guilt was weighing on me pretty heavily right about that t
ime. Sure, my mom is obnoxious on occasion, but she never flat-out left me, so perhaps I should cut her some slack. Camdyn saw things in her life as being orchestrated by God, and I wondered if I thought about it hard enough, could I make that apply to my own life? Although it’s hard to understand why God would want my mother to think I was bulimic.

  In any case, the speech was really good, and afterwards she allowed people to ask questions, which many did. Then, her drop-dead gorgeous husband had to come out and practically propose to her all over again, of course, just to rub it in all of our faces. If it had been any other situation it would have been annoying, but since she had just been talking about their wonderful love story, it just made it all the more swoon-worthy. I was practically in tears in those high-up seats, staring down at the little ants on the stage.

  When everything was over, people started milling about, and I noticed that Camdyn didn’t leave. There was a line of people pressing toward her, and she stood there, smiling and shaking hands and signing autographs. Hazel seemed to understand my intent, because she simply walked with me, staying by my side.

  An hour and a half we have waited in line to get close to her, and by this time I’m only three people away, so naturally my palms begin to get sweaty. I hastily wipe them against my thighs and pull my copy of Crossing Heartbreak out of my purse, hugging it to my chest. Another person takes their leave, and my heart starts pounding uncontrollably. I suppose inside I know it is stupid to have such a reaction, but my body is not cooperating. Besides, it would probably be easier to be calm if her hunk of a husband wasn’t standing next to her. I’d probably blush while talking to him even if I ran into him in the grocery store or something.

  Then, that pretty blonde-haired authoress is standing right in front of me.

  “Hi,” she tells me with a smile, her happy blue eyes locking directly on mine. My mouth momentarily feels like it’s stuffed full of cotton.

  “Hi,” I manage to force out, holding the book out a bit. “I loved your book. Really, really loved it. I even broke up with a guy because he told me it was ‘just okay.’”

  “That is some hardcore book love,” she states, offering up a soft laugh. She’s wearing black suede platform heels, so she looks down at me a bit even though I suspect I am actually just a smidge taller than her.

  “Oh, I do love it, trust me,” I reiterate. “I even convinced Josh to read it, just because I went on and on about Robert and Willa’s love story.”

  “They have a great story,” she adds, pausing a second. “What’s your name?”

  “Maddie,” I answer quickly. “I also loved what you said about your mom. I have a mom, too. I mean, of course I have a mom. What I meant to say was that my mom can be sort of annoying. She’s not speaking to me right now. The last time I saw her… Well, I’ve been jogging, so I lost a little weight, and she asked me if I had an eating disorder. Just a little while later, this kid at her picnic was doing all these gross things with his food, and I wound up throwing up. Of course now she’s convinced that I actually do have an eating disorder. She tried to have an intervention.”

  “That sounds like something you would do,” the stunning husband laughs, smiling over at her. I’m really glad he didn’t smile at me, because I might have died. Seriously.

  “Of course, because everything goofy sounds like something I would do,” Camdyn adds with an eye roll for my benefit. Instantaneously I am completely convinced that we would be best friends in the right circumstances. Because of course she wants someone in her life who will not be able to talk properly when she’s nearby. I am such an idiot.

  “Thank you,” I mutter as she hands me the book. Now that I’m close to her, her blazer is a cream color instead of the light pink it looked on the screen, and her ratty black Poison T-shirt has a tiny hole near the bottom of the seam. Having heard the story of the T-shirt earlier, though, I know she wouldn’t care.

  “Thank you for coming,” she tells me, and then she reaches out and gives me a hug. Me. Maddie Heard. I am in the middle of convincing myself not to hyperventilate when she whispers something in my ear. “Work it out with your mother.”

  Her blonde curls are brushing against the side of my face, and as I lean back she gives me a quick wink before she turns to focus her attention on the next person. I sweep my eyes over her husband’s face as I turn, but naturally he’s looking at his beautiful wife and isn’t concerned about her crazed uber-fan. Sighing to myself, I head over to where Hazel is waiting.

  “It went well?” Hazel wants to know.

  “She’s so great,” I say, grinning from ear to ear. “She signed my book and talked to me about my mom and even gave me a hug. I can’t wait to tell Josh thank you again.”

  “Well, let me see your book,” Hazel requests, and I hand it to her gladly. She pauses in our pursuit of the exit and stands in the aisle, looking down at the signature. “Did you ask her to write that?”

  “Write what?” I want to know. She hands the book back to me, and I glance down at the title page.

  To Maddie and Josh, for connecting with a great love story.

  I don’t need a mirror to tell me that my face is turning red, because the heat in the room just went up by about fifty degrees. Hazel’s going to think I was standing up there blubbering about Josh, and then she’ll naturally assume that I have a thing for her son. She’s going to be planning our wedding in her mind, and then she’ll say something to Josh about my undying devotion to him.

  Ugh, I can see it now! She’ll ask him when we’re getting married, and he’ll say, “You can’t be serious! Me and Mad? Mom, come on, she’s like an extra bratty sister.”

  And then he’ll call Jess and they’ll laugh about the prospect of their mother thinking he would honestly be interested in me—goofy Mad. The next time he calls me it’s going to be so weird, because he’ll think I have feelings for him, and how do I tell him that I don’t when I’m not supposed to know that he knows? Because Hazel won’t have said anything to me, only to Josh.

  This is a catastrophe. A full-blown, four-alarm, extra Maddie-sized catastrophe.

  No, scratch that. This isn’t my fault. Camdyn just stood up there for a couple hours explaining how she always makes messes of things, getting herself lost, running into stuff, stumbling around, finding herself locked in weird places. Well, look what she’s done! It’s all completely, utterly true.

  This day will forever live in infamy as the day I met one of the really great storytellers, Camdyn Taylor, who consequently proceeded to destroy one of my life’s greatest friendships.

  Chapter Nineteen

  It’s B-day. Bloodfest, that is. The show begins at 10:00 a.m. I thought for a little while about wearing a costume, but I decided to look corporate today. Probably a better move for the old résumé in the long run. Besides, I’ll just leave the costumes for the characters in my little drama.

  Ha, ha, ha.

  Okay, that was my best Dracula laugh, but it was really weak. So I’m not sinister—that’s a good thing, right?

  All the planning has gone wonderfully, despite the fact that I had to deal with Audrey the entire time. She has been much easier to work with, although she’s fairly clueless and not much help. In fact, most of the time she just sits around and watches me work. She’s almost like a little lost puppy dog, following me around all the time. She even wants us to go to lunch together every day. Some days I bring something from home, and others I try to come up with an excuse, but I have had to take her out several times. Cooper doesn’t mind if we come back late or even if we’re gone for hours. I think he wants the two of us to become friends, although I’m not sure why. Most days I wish he would find something else for her to do so I could have some peace. As it is, the only time I have alone is Tuesday tennis lessons, and I’m sure it will only be a matter of time before she manages to infiltrate those, too.

  I’m not going to worry about Audrey right now, though. I’m sure she’ll locate me soon enough. I’ve been maneuvering i
n and out of all the booths in the center of the excitement, making sure things are going smoothly. So far, so good. The blood-letters are already here, apparently ready to go into full swing the minute the clock strikes 10:00. At least, that’s what their director assured me. I told her several times that the timing was imperative, since I would have media people here for the beginning of the day. It’s funny, but any time I’ve mentioned the media, people have voluntarily cooperated with whatever I’ve asked. That seems like a good card to keep up my sleeve in the future.

  The games are already here for the kids, too, including a large blow-up bounce house with a few slides set up in one area. We also have a magician, a puppet show, and a few carnival games, and everyone donated their time to the event. People find it difficult to say no to a good cause, I found, which is also good to keep in mind for the future.

  The food smells delicious, and if I wasn’t watching what I eat, I would be very tempted. There are freshly baked cookies from the bakery down the street, and a neighboring coffeehouse has their cappuccino-maker set up and ready to serve. We’ve also got food from a pizzeria, a delicatessen, and an oriental restaurant. Plus, I’ve convinced some of the employees at Cooper Corporate Financial to grill hamburgers and hot dogs. The best part is, it’s all free in an attempt to get people to donate blood. Truly a win-win situation, if I do say so myself. I’m quite proud that I came up with the idea.

  I’ve got to admit—even though this started out simply as a way to get back at Cooper, it has really turned into an amazing thing. Imagine, one little idea leading to this huge event that is eventually going to help so many in our community. Who would have thought that I, the humble Madeline Heard, could ever coordinate this type of massive effort? I have surprised even myself.

  The lead-up to this day has been a month of anxious anticipation. Some of the details required a lot of convincing, but in the end everything went exactly as I hoped. Cooper won’t even know what hit him until it’s too late. He has no idea that he will be the first donor of the day. I’ve already told the people taking the blood, and the media has wind of it, but I’m waiting to spring it on the man himself until the last minute. He’ll be here for the start of the blood drive, and the cameras will be in the vicinity, and when we announce that he will be the first donor, there’s no way he’ll be able to back out. No thinking about it in advance, no trying to come up with an excuse. He’ll be stuck, and he will have to agree to go under the needle.