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Both Finch and I chuckle.
“Good afternoon, Dr. Mathews. We’re so happy you could make it,” says Pat as I sign in to see my father.
“Thanks for having me.” I smile at the young nurse. “How’s he doing today?” My father seems to be Pat’s favorite patient. She constantly calls and gives me personal updates on his progress.
“He’s doing really well. He’s actually outside today.”
I pause from signing in. “Outside? Are you sure it’s not someone who looks like my father?” I tease while she stifles her smile behind her hand.
Once I’m done signing in, she passes me my visitor’s badge and offers to show me where he is. We talk about my father’s progress and how she’s seen a vast improvement in his overallbehavior since I’ve been visiting. I really want to believe her, but I have my doubts.
As we step outside, I whistle, impressed with what I see. The enormous green lawns are strewn with carnival rides, a small petting zoo, and colorful balloons and streamers hang off the white canopies. Long trestle tables provide the masses with an array of food and beverages. Everyone seems to be happily talking and eating, and enjoying the laid-back atmosphere.
“Your father is just over there,” Pat says, pointing at a huge oak tree. I can see him sitting in his wheelchair with his back turned to the festivities.
“Thanks, Pat. I’ll see if he wants to join in on the fun.” She smiles and nods.
I make my way down the hill, wondering why my father has decided to sit down here and miss out on all the fun. As I round the tree, I almost trip over my feet, realizing why. “Madison?”
Her green eyes guiltily dart up to meet mine from where she’s crouched at my father’s feet. She quickly stands and replaces the knitted blanket over his legs. It appears she was doing up his shoelaces. She’s taking care of him, but why?
“What are you doing here?” I abruptly ask, cringing when I realize how rude that sounded.
“I was just leaving,” she bites back, leaning forward and kissing my father on the head. “Ciao, Pino. Ci vediamo dopo.”
My mouth drops open even farther. “You speak Italian now? Since when?” I shout. I need to quit yelling at her, but my emotions are running haywire, and I have no idea what’s happening.
“Goodbye, Dixon.” She attempts to shove past me, but I leap out and latch onto her arm. The moment we make contact, my body hums in familiarity. It never wants to let her go.
“Goodbye? I don’t think so. You didn’t answer my question,” I press, tightening my hold.
She rips her arm from my grip and glares at me. “I was invited, remember? Or did you lie about that, too?”
I recoil, her words kicking me straight in the balls. I deserve them. “Of course, you were. I’m sorry. My mistake.” She nods smugly and straightens out her red coat. But her self-righteousness disappears soon after, and she peers down at her boots.
This is so damn awkward. I never thought I would ever feel this way around Madison, but I do. I can’t remember a time when I wanted to flee more than I do right now. So I stand mutely, rocking back on my heels and waiting for her to leave.
But she doesn’t. Her gaze lingers on my bandaged hand. Does she know what happened to her brother? Either way, it doesn’t matter anymore. She’s no longer my concern. I remind myself I am doing this for her and continue to stand my ground.
Who am I kidding? Standing my ground is dreadful. I feel sick inside, and I think I’m seconds away from losing my lunch. I have never felt this way before, and I’m not afraid to admit it. “Madison…”
She looks up, tears welling in her eyes.
The sight kills me. But I persevere. “How have you been?”
She kicks at the dirt, biting her lip as she wipes her eyes. “I’ve been okay.”
“That’s good to hear,” I lie. I want her to confess that she is as miserable as I am. “How’s school?”
She shrugs. “It’s fine. I got into Mount Sinai.”
Thanks to the night where everything turned to shit, I never got a chance to ask Maddy how her interviews went. “That’s fantastic. Congratulations. You must be over the moon.”
But she appears anything but overjoyed. “I can’t do this,” she suddenly says, bursting into tears.
Telling my resolve to fuck off, I attempt to hug her, but she jumps backward and folds her arms around her slender torso.
“Can’t do what?” I question, ignoring how I repulse her.
