Aced (Blocked #2)

by Jennifer Lane

  I clutched the tissues, feeling cruel just standing here saying nothing. But what could I say? She’d brought this heartache on herself. After a beat, I inched closer. “Would you like a tissue?”

  She looked up at me with watery eyes and the beginnings of a smile. “I see you have Thomas’s kindness.” She plucked a few from the package.

  If Dad’s so kind, why’d you leave him?

  “Does Braxton have that kindness, too?” She mopped the corner of her eye.

  I hesitated, unsure if I wanted to engage with her. “Not really.”

  A small laugh escaped, and she cupped her hand over her mouth to squelch it. Braxton would have been ticked off to hear her laugh at his expense. Picturing his offended scowl made me snicker. Giggles soon erupted from both of us. I slid into the chair catty-corner to hers and let my laughter rip from my gut, freeing and fun. I must have been slaphappy from lack of sleep and the insanity of my long-lost mother sitting across from me.

  After a few moments, I let out a long sigh—the conclusion of a good laugh.

  Her smile faded as she kept staring at me. Wonder seemed to fill her shining eyes. “God, you’re beautiful.”

  I glanced down. If she thought I was beautiful, she had to know her own beauty as well. I looked just like her. Fatigue weighed down my eyelids, and my vision blurred. “It’s been a long night. I think I’m delirious.”

  “Lord, I thought you’d been shot.” My gaze lifted to see her hands twist in her lap. “I thought I’d lost my chance to see you, to talk to you…” She blew out a breath. “To explain why I left. To apologize. You deserve that.”

  I stiffened. I needed to know why she left. But an apology wouldn’t make this right.

  “I’m so sorry, Madison.”

  I jutted out my chin. “It’s Maddie.”

  “You go by Maddie? That’s pretty.”

  How ludicrous that my own mother didn’t know my damn name.

  “You’re thinking my apology is meaningless after twenty years.”

  I stilled as I met her eyes, wondering how she’d read my mind. I nodded.

  “That’s how my therapist said you’d react.”

  Whoa. “You’re in therapy?”

  She nodded. “I’ve been in therapy for years. I have recurrent major depression. That’s why I had to leave,” she added, as her eyes welled up in tears. “The depression.”

  I laced my arms across my chest to brace myself. “Tell me.”

  She smoothed out a tissue on her lap. “My first bout with depression was when my mother died.” She sniffed. “You didn’t know your grandmother. But she was my soul. My heart.” Her hand flitted to her chest. “She died from ovarian cancer.”

  I made a mental note to look up the genetic risk factors.

  “Don’t worry—I don’t have the gene mutation, so odds are you don’t either.”

  “How’d you know about gene mutations?” I asked.

  “Oh.” She blinked quickly. “You don’t know, of course. I’m a nurse.”

  I took that in. My mother was a nurse, just like Nana had been.

  “Why are you smiling?”

  “I’m pre-med.”

  “Wow. That’s really impressive, Maddie.”

  But it has nothing to do with you. Dad and my grandparents were the reasons Brax and I had gotten so far in school. “You were talking about your first episode of depression.”

  “Yes.” She inhaled a long breath. “I met your father right before my mother died, and he tried to help me through my grief. But I was such a mess—I could barely get out of bed. I don’t know what he saw in me.”

  Jeez, she had zero self-worth. Apparently low self-esteem ran in families too.

  “He deserved better,” she added.

  Hot anger rushed through me. “Dad has always loved you, don’t you know that?”

  Her eyes grew big.

  “He never remarried! He’s never been with another woman. You ruined him.”

  Her hand covered her mouth, then skated down her neck. “I always hoped he’d find someone.”

  An unpleasant thought entered my mind. “Did you?”

  She stared at me, not comprehending.

  “Did you find someone?”

  She licked her lips, then nodded. “Warren’s been with me for about seven years.”

  A stab of pain pierced my heart. Dad would never get her back now.

  “He’s the reason I’ve been doing so well. Warren gave me the confidence to fight my depression, go to school, get a job.”

  She sounded rather dependent on him.

  “How is your father doing, besides his, uh, love life?” she asked.

  “Fine.” Not any thanks to you.

  She nodded. “He’s teaching history?”

  “Yes.” It felt strangely disloyal to tell her Dad hadn’t finished his doctorate.

  “He has his own place?”

  “He lives with Nana and Gramps, and Braxton.”

  “Oh,” she said softly.

  I frowned at her. Yeah, Dad lived with his parents. Did she think we’d all be just great when she abandoned us?

  “How’s your brother?”

  “He’s working on his PhD in poli sci.” Her eyebrows lifted. I noticed she hadn’t asked about my grandparents. “And not that you care, but Nana and Gramps are doing well.”

  Her head lowered. “They never approved of me.”

  That wasn’t true, was it? “Well, they took good care of Brax and me.”

  “I’m so glad. And grateful.” She swallowed. “I…wasn’t taking good care of you. You needed more than I could give.” At some point she’d stopped crying, but now the tears started again. “After Thomas married me, I was doing better. I got a job in childcare. But then Braxton came along, and the depression returned. Maybe it was post-partum depression; I don’t know.”

  I could see her hands shaking as she folded a tissue on her lap. A tear splashed on her wrist. “After Braxton was born, I was in a fog. The miscarriages didn’t help.”

  “The miscarriages?” Her use of the plural sickened me.

  “We had two. Or three.” She shook her head. “I can’t remember.”

  She had been in a fog.

  “When we made it to the second trimester with a healthy girl…” She lifted her eyes to meet mine. “I felt some hope. I was going to give my baby girl a better childhood than I’d ever dreamed of.” She looked away with a soft smile. “Good schools, food in her belly, pretty dresses. Two parents.” Her smile plummeted. “But when I brought you home, the depression returned, worse than before. It strangled me.” Her palm pressed over her necklace, cradled around her neck like a noose. Her fingers stroked her skin as she continued. “All I wanted was to end the pain. I couldn’t stop thinking about killing myself.”

  I realized my mouth hung open, and I closed it. “Didn’t…” My voice was raspy, and I cleared my throat. “Didn’t doctors help you?”

  “They gave me medication, but it didn’t help. It just made me sleepy. I barely left the bed as it was.” She dropped her hands to her lap and twisted a tissue between them. “Thomas tried to drag me out of bed, get me to take care of you.” When she sobbed, a lump lodged in my throat. “I tried. Please believe me, Madison. I tried.” Her voice quivered. “But all I could think about was death. You and your brother were there, needing me, after me all the time…what if I tried to kill myself and inadvertently hurt you? What if you found my body? I had no control over myself. I was panicked about what might happen.”

  She shifted in the chair, and I considered asking her to stop telling her story. But she kept talking.

  “I had to leave. I had to go somewhere, take my life without endangering yours. It was wrong, but I didn’t know what else to do. I was desperate. I left right before Thomas got home from school one day, and took a train west. Chicago was where I’d do it. A big city where I was a nobody—where I wouldn’t hurt nobody.”

  Nausea stirred in my gut. My mother had come so c
lose to destroying herself.

  She shook her head as tears spilled down her cheeks. “God didn’t let me go, though. There was a nun on the train.” She exhaled. “That nun kept badgering me with questions, and finally I answered one, just to shut her up. We talked that whole train ride. She took me to a shelter in Chicago.” She sniffed. “But I couldn’t afford living in the city, working in childcare, so I went up to Wisconsin. That’s where I’ve lived, all these years.”

  I tried to imagine her life there, all alone. “Where in Wisconsin?”

  She seemed to shrink as she peered up at me. “Madison.”

  I stared at her as my breath whooshed from my lungs.

  “I felt closer to you there,” she said.

  Tears swam in my eyes, and I clung to the armrests. I couldn’t breathe, and I knew I was about to vomit. Twenty years of loss pressed down on me, crushing me, making me gasp for air. I cried out. I couldn’t take this. I would disintegrate beneath the weight of my pain.

  “Oh, Maddie.” My mother kneeled by my chair, and her arms slid around me, wrapping me in their surprisingly strong hold. I hadn’t given her permission to hug me, but I melted into her all the same. “My sweet girl. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She rocked me over and over, and I closed my eyes. I felt the spasms in my chest slowly ease as I breathed in her soft perfume.

  “I planned to come back. I did.” She smoothed circles on my back. “But I couldn’t get myself together. I’d try new meds, a new job, but I kept landing back in the state mental hospital. The last time I was there, I met Warren. He has severe anxiety, so he understands what it’s like.”

  I pulled back. My mother had met her boyfriend at a psychiatric hospital? “Thanks, I’m good now,” I said. Miraculously, neither of us was crying at the moment.

  She nodded and returned to her chair. “Warren helped me find a job when we got out—an administrative assistant job at the university, with benefits. He had a wonderful outpatient therapist, and I started seeing her, too. We finally found an antidepressant that works for me. And Warren encouraged me to enroll in some college classes—tuition was free for university employees. It took six years, but I got my BSN. Then I got a good job.”

  Wow. Maybe meeting Warren in the psych hospital wasn’t such a bad thing.

  “You’re about to graduate, too, right?” When I nodded, Mom smiled sadly. “I talked to my therapist about you and my family, about wanting to see you once I got my life together. She was pushing for it, but I was scared to cause you more pain. Then I saw you on TV, holding Alejandro’s hand. My daughter, with the son of the president.” Her hand covered her heart. “You’re so tall. So stunning. So accomplished.” She frowned. “And I was even more frightened to see you. You’ve done so well without me. I don’t want to bring you down.”

  My chin dipped as I gazed at her. How could she ever think I was better off without her?

  “When I saw the shooting on the news last night, I didn’t think twice. I jumped in the car, drove all night to get here. They wouldn’t let me in until one of the agents—Brad is his name? He knew I was your mother the second he saw me. And you’re okay. Thank God you’re all right. And Alejandro’s in stable condition?”

  “He was shot twice.” My heartbeat spiked just saying the words. “He’s going to be fine. But Brad’s partner, China, she’s touch and go.”

  “I’ll pray for her, then.” Mom studied me. “You know this China?”

  “Yeah. Pretty well, actually. Secret Service is with Alex and Rez, I mean Lucia, round the clock.” I shrugged. “Lucia’s my teammate—she’s how I met Alejandro. It’s a strange world they live in.”

  “Seems like you’re part of that world now, too.” A smile lifted her mouth. “Do you love Alejandro?”

  I leaned back in the chair. Was she allowed to ask me that question? I barely knew her. But seeing the tracks of tears on her smooth, dark skin—the evidence of her pain from leaving me—I decided to answer. I’d known the answer for some time. “Yes.”

  Her smile widened. “Then I’m happy for you. But I’m scared, too.” Her smile faded. “Will you be safe? Will they try to shoot you again?”

  “I don’t think Brad will let that happen.”

  Brad’s ears must have been burning because the door opened, and he stuck his head in the room. “Hey, Maddie?”

  “How’s China?” I asked.

  He stepped inside as he blew out a breath. “She’s out of the coma. They think she’ll make it.”

  I closed my eyes with a prayer of thanks.

  “And she’s mad as a hornet,” he added with a grin. “Hey, uh, the rest of your family’s here. Want me to let them in?”

  I looked at Mom. She straightened and wiped her palms up her cheeks, then nodded at me. She seemed petrified.

  “Please do,” I told Brad.

  He returned a moment later and held the door open for my family. Nana scurried in first. “Maddie! Oh, darling.” She wrapped me in a hug, and over her shoulder I saw Gramps, Dad, and Braxton file in.

  “Well,” Gramps said as he stared into the corner of the room.

  Nana let me go and gasped.

  Dad’s jaw dropped, and he jumped back like he was spooked. Spooked by the ghost of his ex-wife. “Ayana,” he finally said.

  “Thomas.” Mom stood tall, but her wobbly voice revealed her anxiety.

  I zeroed in on Braxton, wondering how he’d react. Frozen just inside the door, his gaze bounced back and forth between Mom and me. His voice sounded small when he told our mother, “You came back.”

  Mom nodded.

  He rushed toward her, and for a second I worried he’d hit her, but instead he grabbed her in a fierce hug. “Mom!” he cried.

  “My boy.” She cradled the back of his head and pressed his forehead to her shoulder. “I missed you so much.” Tears coursed down her face, and I had to look away so I didn’t resume crying myself.

  I noticed Dad off to the side, his hands jammed into his pockets as he shuffled his feet. I found my way to his arms, and he clutched me tight.

  “How’re you holding up?” he whispered.

  My throat felt tight. “Not well. Kind of in shock.”

  He pulled back and gave me a half-smile, though his eyes seemed troubled. “Me, too.”

  “Mom was severely depressed, Dad. She thought she was saving us by leaving. She thought she wasn’t good enough for you.”

  He grimaced as he turned to look at Mom. She spoke to Braxton as Nana and Gramps watched from the other side of the room. Nana did not look happy.

  “Dad.” I squeezed his hand, and he looked back at me. “It wasn’t your fault she left. Not mine or Braxton’s either.” His mouth trembled. “Now that she’s come back to us, you can let her go.” I squeezed his hand again. “It’s time to let her go.”

  He stared at me for quite a while. Then he exhaled a long sigh. “She really hurt us, Maddie. I don’t care how depressed she was—you don’t do that to your family. But I don’t want to talk about her now. I want to talk about you.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I was so worried! I can’t believe Secret Service made us wait so long to see you.”

  “Yeah, they kind of freak out when a protectee gets shot.”

  “I can imagine. But Alejandro will be okay?”

  I nodded.

  “I know I suggested you date someone new after Jaylon, but does he have to be so high profile? What if you’re the one who gets shot next time?”

  “I’m sorry you guys were so worried. But there are no guarantees in life, Dad. Love means risk. And I do love him.”

  He scowled at me. “Then it’s about time you introduce me to that famous boyfriend of yours.”

  I smiled at him. “You got it.”

  As expected, when they met, Alejandro impressed the hell out of my father. Even with the danger his position added to my life, Dad couldn’t help but love his polite, intelligent responses. And when Alejandro had chatted with Nana and Gramps about the changing
landscape of healthcare in America—from both clinical and administrative perspectives—they’d fallen for him, too. Braxton hadn’t been such an easy sell. But at least he hadn’t been too rude, considering Alejandro was stuck in a hospital bed. Mom had stood quietly to the side, taking it all in.

  She’d only stayed one night before she had to go back to Wisconsin for her next nursing shift. She and Dad had taken a moment for a private conversation before an awkward family lunch at a restaurant, during which Nana refused to speak to her. When it was time for my family to return to Cleveland, it had been clear Mom wasn’t welcome in Nana’s home. So I’d invited her to spend the night in my apartment. It had only taken her one night of sleeping on Shitty to promise to buy me a new sofa. Score! She’d also invited Braxton and me to Wisconsin. But neither of us wanted to rush a relationship with a woman we barely knew. I’d been too busy with school and volleyball then, anyway.

  I’d exchanged a few emails with Mom as I prepared for the national selection camp. And though Brad and China hadn’t allowed Alejandro to attend my college graduation—too risky, they’d said—Secret Service had permitted him to accompany me to the Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs, where there was already good security in place. He’d really calmed my nerves at the selection camp.

  There I’d encountered volleyball players from universities across the country, including women I’d met last year from Stanford, Washington, and Penn State. The setter from Penn State was much better than Nina, and my hitting elevated with her talents. We’d all been star-struck upon meeting the national team coach, Karch Kiraly, who had completely dominated when he’d played. He was the LeBron James of volleyball, we joked. Coach Kiraly tested us in every way possible—blocking, hitting, diving, setting, passing, jump serving, strength training, plyometrics, mental training, video analysis…I’d complained how sore I was every night in the condo Brad had secured for Alejandro and me.

  Alejandro started physical therapy in the training room at the center, and he must have been sore too, but he never complained. He’d just told me how well I was doing, and massaged my legs with his good arm while he quizzed me on p-chem. I knew how tough it was to come back from injury, and I asked him how he kept such an upbeat attitude. He’d just said he was motivated to heal as quickly as possible. His response had puzzled me—what was the sense of urgency?