Sunset Flames_Baytown Boys

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Sunset Flames_Baytown Boys Page 13

by Maryann Jordan


  Her head jerked away from his lips and her eyes locked on his. “Oh.” Swallowing hard, her eyes filled as she repeated, “Oh.”

  “Maddie, from the first time I met you, I saw sadness in your eyes that went beyond your father’s death…a kinship of sorts. But I had no idea about your dad.”

  Nodding, Madelyn realized how much he would understand her conflict. “Is this okay? Our talking about it?”

  His lips curved slightly and, tucking hair behind her ear, he kissed her forehead again. “I think it’s perfect.”

  She cuddled back into his embrace, her head resting on his chest, their fingers still locked together. “It was soon after Dad lost his job that Mom met me at the door one day during the summer after my ninth-grade year and she was packing our bags before loading them into the van. She said we were done and were leaving right then. I had no idea we were leaving for good, just figuring she wanted to visit her parents in North Carolina, calm down and then come home. Two weeks later, we were in an apartment and there had been no contact with Dad. When I asked her, she just said he had problems he needed to work on and had insisted that we leave.”

  “So, your dad wanted you two gone?”

  “That’s what Mom said.” She hesitated before adding, “I had no reason to doubt what she said. It hurt that he didn’t want us around, but why would my mom lie?”

  Shaking his head, he replied, “I don’t know.”

  “Anyway, she had me register for tenth grade in North Carolina and when I said I wanted to visit Dad, she agreed. I was so relieved to finally find out what was going on. My dad and I, we were really close, nothing about the situation was making sense. We drove back to the Eastern Shore and when I went to the house, Dad opened the door but said he didn’t want me to come in.” Twisting her body around so she could face Zac, she added, “I had no idea at the time what his reasons might have been. I was a pouty fourteen-year-old who wanted the life she had grown up with—both parents under the same roof, loving me, ignoring that my dad had a problem. I still remember what a slap in the face it was when he said I shouldn’t have come to visit.”

  “What happened?”

  “He shut the door and I burst into tears. I got into the car and Mom drove us back to North Carolina. She didn’t say anything about Dad the whole way home and I just cried and then, when my tears were over, I got mad. Why would he do that to me? Why didn’t he want me anymore, you know?”

  “And your mom?”

  “Later, she let me know that they were getting a divorce. She also said that he didn’t want family around at all. I was angry, hurt…well, devastated. I thought he would change his mind. He always loved me. I couldn’t understand where any of this was coming from. But, then, when no birthday or Christmas cards or presents came, I believed her.” She huffed, her face screwing up in thought, “And as an adult? I just wrote him off, Zac. I didn’t come back to find out why…or how he was…or anything.” Her shoulders slumped, “I just wrote him off. God, what does that say about me?”

  “Maddie, you were young…impressionable. You didn’t just trust what was told to you, you gave him that chance because you loved him. But actions speak louder than words. And believe me, I understand the way an alcoholic can push away anyone and everyone who is important to them.”

  Nodding slowly, she sighed. “It’s just that when I came here, I wanted nothing to do with my dad’s things. I wanted to empty the house then put it on the market. Walk away and never think on it again.”

  “And now?”

  “I found some things,” she said.

  “Things?”

  “First, I found some notebooks that were like scrapbooks. He had gotten on my Facebook page and printed out a bunch of my pictures and pasted them into the notebook. It was like he was trying to keep up with my life from the moment I left. There were notebooks from high school and college. I haven’t posted much in the last couple of years, but he had some as late as last year that I had taken at a counseling conference.”

  “Well…” he began, then hesitated, not sure what to say.

  She sucked her lips in again, swallowing hard before she whispered, “That’s not all.” Seeing his rapt attention on her, she said, “I found other notebooks. He kept a journal and it’s like letters he wrote to me over the years. I’ve only read some of the entries…the earlier ones…because it’s so confusing and honestly, hurts so much, I can only read a few at a time.”

  “Letters? What do they say?”

  “He talks about going to AA and being told to keep a journal. About how he needed to let me know how much better he was getting. And how when he talked to Mom, she said we could all be a family again.”

  “Shit, Maddie. What the fuck?”

  “I know, right? I looked at the dates. Zac, Mom had already remarried when he wrote those.”

  Zac pulled her shivering body close, tugging more of the coverings over her still-naked body. Hoping his warmth would seep into her, he rubbed his hands up and down her arms.

  “I don’t know what to believe,” she mumbled against his chest. “All I know is that I can’t go back to North Carolina without some answers. I feel like I owe it to Dad to understand what happened all those years ago.”

  “Have you talked to your mom?”

  She rolled her eyes. “No. I just don’t know what to say to her right now. I know things were bad at home when we left, but what I don’t understand is why she might have lied to me over the years.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes before he said, “I don’t know why people do the things they do. My dad lost his wife, but he still had a son. A son he couldn’t take care of because he drank his grief away.” He felt her arms flex, tightening on his waist, as he continued, “I never told you how my father died.”

  Madelyn shifted her body while keeping her arm around his middle, the tone of his voice foreboding.

  “I was a senior in high school and had already signed to go into the Navy after graduation when it happened. By then, my dad was known as the loveable town drunk. I, honest to God, bounced between embarrassment and not giving a damn as I grew up.”

  “Oh, honey,” she breathed, her heart aching for him.

  “For eight years, other men and women in this town practically raised me. Doctor appointments, ball games, holidays. Hell, it was Ed Evans who gave me the talk about sex at the same time he talked to Mitch.” Shaking his head, he said, “As tragic as that was, it was all I knew for a long time. No one ever talked about Dad…they just stepped in and made sure I was okay and Dad had some food in him besides just pickling his liver.”

  “I can’t imagine,” she said, her mind filled with the image of teenage Zac having to deal with his father.

  “It’s weird…I loved him, but he stopped being my father when Mom died. It was like I was living with a stranger. He wasn’t a mean drunk…just a drunk. Negligent, I guess.”

  “How did he…uh...”

  “Die?” A heavy sigh followed, and he said, “The week after I graduated, he fell asleep in his bed with a lit cigarette. It must have fallen onto the carpet.”

  Her body jolted and her arm squeezed spastically. A gasp escaped before she was able to hold it in.

  He rubbed her shoulder and said, “The fire crew got there, but he died of smoke inhalation.”

  “Zac, I’m so sorry.”

  He sat quietly for a moment before saying, “I hated like hell that my dad died and had died that way, but Maddie…part of me was relieved his suffering was over. My friends and their families swooped in, taking care of everything and me as well. One month later, I left for the Navy. I directed Ed to have the house torn down and to sell the property. I’d taken what memories from what was left there that I wanted and, other than that, I wanted it all gone.”

  She opened her mouth then closed it quickly. She knew there was nothing she could say that would not sound like platitudes, so she gave him the gift of just knowing she was there.

  “I know you’
re thinking that it must have messed with my head…that’s why I went into firefighting…I’m constantly trying to save my father.”

  “I’m not thinking anything, sweetheart, other than to just be here for you.”

  His fingers ran through her hair, the softness soothing as he stroked it away from her face. “I had already chosen firefighting as my Navy career. I was a teen volunteer for the Baytown FD.” He felt her jolt again and quickly said, “No, I wasn’t on duty when my dad died. I was off with the other guys, celebrating before we all went our separate ways.”

  “Did you have time to grieve before you left?”

  “In some ways, I had grieved the loss of my dad from the time I lost my mom. But, I was once again surrounded by such love and support, and I knew that dad was now with mom, and he wasn’t suffering anymore. I think if anything, I never grieved the loss of what he could have been. It only hit me recently how angry I was, have been, with him all these years. I think, too, I took on some of the blame for him being the way he was, thinking I wasn’t enough for him to live for. But Ed and Steve, Mitch and Jillian’s dads, have helped a lot with that. I was a child and my dad fell into a deep pit of grief, that’s all there is to it.”

  She leaned away from his chest to peer into his eyes. Seeing truth in them, she reached up to cup his jaw. “You are so strong, Zac. So much stronger than most of us.”

  “I think we all have that strength in us, Maddie. At least, those of us who were blessed to be around good people. I know my dad had an illness and that’s why he couldn’t take care of me. If I’m strong, it’s because I had those good people to give me their strength when I needed it.”

  Once more, silence curled around between them, each to their own thoughts as she settled her head back on his chest. Finally, he lifted her chin with his knuckle and asked, “What are you going to do, babe?”

  She squeezed her arm around his waist, drawing strength from his steady heartbeat. “I’m going to stay for a while. I want to finish reading the journals and going through his possessions. I want to try to understand the man he was and the man he became.”

  Secretly pleased she was staying in town longer, Zac nonetheless hated the reason she needed to be there.

  She leaned up suddenly, a light blush crossing her cheeks, as her eyes sought his. “But don’t worry, Zac. I know you only wanted a couple of weeks and that’s fine…I won’t—”

  He shushed her with his fingers on her lips. “Shh, Maddie. I want you…I want this.”

  Staring into his eyes, she knew he meant only until she finally went back to North Carolina, but her heart ached realizing she wanted it to be a lot longer.

  18

  Two days. She had not seen Zac in two days and he crossed her mind continually. She missed his smile, the way he linked his fingers with hers, and the way held her tightly whether they had just had sex or were just talking. If this is what it feels like to just be friends with benefits, what would real love feel like?

  Blowing out a puff of breath, Madelyn bent over her task. She realized she worked better without David’s distraction. She had changed his system of categorizing, without undoing anything he had accomplished. The antiques with value were now divided into two more categories; those she would sell and those she wanted to keep.

  The thought had surprised her, but after talking about her father to Zac, she knew she wanted to keep some memories. Allowing her mind to travel back in time, she recognized a few of the pieces as ones he had accumulated when she was still living at home and taking “antickkin’ trips” with him.

  The other furniture, pieces that had no real monetary value but were in good condition, she moved to a different part of the room. She lugged more of the household junk to the shed, deciding that she would have someone pick it up all at once to haul it to the dump or to the donation center.

  Without David flitting about, she was able to think about her father. What had the past years been like for him? When the divorce was final, what did he think? And when Mom re-married someone else? She knew the answers to those questions might lie in the journal upstairs, but fear had kept the pages shut. She would read them, as her heart allowed. And since I’m not leaving for a little while, then there’s time.

  She stopped at a small table with Depression Glass on top. The green glass was exquisite. She picked the plate up and remembered her father showing it to her, “Look at this Dancing Girl pattern, Maddie. Isn’t it pretty?” She remembered he explained it was actually the Hocking Glass Company’s Cameo pattern, but was often known as Ballerina or Dancing Girl. A smile slipped over her face at the memory. Heaving a great sigh, she carefully placed the plate back onto the stack. David had explained that, while the pieces were not overly valuable, they were great collector items and he would be able to auction them easily, getting the most for the set.

  Without hesitation, she picked up the plate again and placed it on the other side of the room where she was gathering pieces that she wanted to keep. The memory of her father buying the piece when she was with him was fond enough for her to want the keepsake.

  Her gaze drifted over a spinning wheel sitting on top of a table, her smile still in place. David had been exceedingly excited for the eighteenth-century piece that had been painted blue in the nineteenth century. He had claimed it would easily bring over a thousand dollars in an auction. Shaking her head, she remembered when her father brought it home and her mother derided it. “It’s blue, Lenny. Why on earth would you want that piece of junk? You’re wasting money and we’ve got precious little to waste!”

  Walking through the house, she was unable to stop the memories from flowing, both good and bad. As she wandered through the recesses of her mind, she realized the bad memories were outweighing the good.

  Her phone rang, the ringtone indicating her mother. Hesitating, she knew she had put off the inevitable long enough. Moving to the kitchen counter, where her phone was charging, she answered. Before she had a chance to say her greeting, her mother pounced.

  “Madelyn, honey, when are you coming home?”

  Sighing, she replied, “Mom, I told you, things are taking longer than I thought.”

  “Not if you just have a junkman come to haul everything out and get a realtor to slap a For Sale sign in the yard.”

  “It’s not that easy—”

  “Honey, I don’t understand. Two weeks ago, you wanted nothing more than to go to Baytown to bury your father and sell his estate. Now I wish I had gone with you. What’s happening?”

  Several seconds of silence passed before she answered, “I guess I’m looking for answers.”

  “Answers?”

  She heard the surprise in her mother’s voice and tried to explain, “I’m in the house where I spent the first fourteen years of my life. I have good memories here, as well as not so good ones. I’m trying to figure out what went wrong.”

  “Madelyn, you know what went wrong. I was always honest about that. Your dad drank and it got worse and worse. He spent money on the junk he kept collecting, sure he was going to find a great piece that was worth something. He went from being a loving husband and father to a drunk, plain and simple.”

  “Nothing in life is that plain or simple,” she retorted, her guttural tone harsh and unfamiliar to her ears.

  The silence stretched interminably before her mother reacted. “What is it, Madelyn? Please just tell me what’s going on.”

  “I found myself staring at my room, Mom. Dad left it unchanged. It was as though I had just gone to school and he expected me back at the end of the day.”

  “Doesn’t that prove that he wasn’t thinking straight?”

  “Not when I found scrapbooks that he kept where he posted pictures of me from about the time I was sixteen until recently.”

  “Sc..scrapbooks?”

  Now, she could hear the confusion in her mother’s voice and decided to come clean. “Yes, Mom. And journals. When he started AA, he kept journals that detailed how much he missed me
and you. How he talked to you and how you promised that we could be a family again. But you know what, Mom? You never told me he was in contact with you and those dates were after you had already married Saul. You want to explain that?”

  “What did she say then?” Zac asked.

  Madelyn lay on her bed, the lights out in the house, the dark night chasing away the last light of the sunset, talking on the phone with Zac. Her mind in turmoil after the conversation with her mother left her agitated and irritable.

  Also, the time away from him had given her the fear of sharing too much. How much do I share with a fuck buddy? Not knowing the answer, as well as now hating the label, she had attempted small talk until he bluntly asked what was on her mind. So, she caved and had just told him about the phone conversation with her mother.

  Zac had listened carefully to Madelyn as she explained her conversation with her mom, feeling her pain as well as hearing the frustration in her voice. He wished he could be with her in person, knowing she could use a hug. Instead, he was stuck at the station with a new volunteer, hoping they would not be called out tonight. He repeated, “What did she say, Maddie?”

  “She just started crying and said I couldn’t possibly understand the decisions she made back then and it was all to protect me.” Sighing, she huffed, “I just don’t know what to believe. It feels like one more blow to have to deal with.”

  “What can I do, babe?”

  Irritation at their situation flew through Madelyn and she lashed out, “Nothing. There’s nothing you can do.” Immediately contrite, she sighed heavily again, the definition of their relationship weighing her down. “I’m sorry, Zac. You know, maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

 

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