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16
MADISON
Leavingher beloved ring at the Jeweler’s after having to explain that it was damaged by ‘mistake’ in a garbage disposal had drawn several curious glances… especially with her bandaged hand. They explained that they could soften and melt the band, smoothing out all the cuts and nicks, but the stone would be forever cracked.
There was no repair that could be done to it.
“Can you add a few more prongs around it, so if it splits? I don’t lose the pieces?”
“We can,” the jeweler had told her. “Or we can make the halves into earrings and replace the stone?”
“No. I don’t want a different stone,” she had whispered, feeling choked with emotion. “This one has meaning to me, and I don’t… I can’t…”
“I understand,” he said gently, patting her good hand. “We’ll do everything we can to repair and secure it. Give us a little time, and we’ll work some magic.”
“I have nothing but time,” she replied glumly. “I don’t know when my husband is coming home again – nor do I want him to see it destroyed, no matter what he says.”
Eric’s words kept replaying in her mind, her stitches were itching something fierce, and she was awfully moody right now.
“Max, let’s go send Eric a package, hmm?” she invited, grasping at the much needed distraction. Her mother called it ‘retail therapy,’ and while shopping might make her feel better, the reasoning behind it made her wonder if she needed her head examined.
If Eric didn’t care about the ring and just wanted to be friends, why did it matter so much to her that in five days, it would be a month that they were married?
Walking through the aisles, she picked up little snacks for him… and it was alarming to realize just how much she didn’t know about Eric. Did he like sweets? Salty things? Crunchy stuff? What size shirt did he wear? Did he like music? Magazines? Books?
The only thing she knew about him – was that somehow, he liked them… her, Max, and of course - Trigger. That was about the only thing she had seen him smile around, watched him play with Max, saw him care for his dog, and remembered him holding her while she slept.
Not knowing someone made it hard to shop for them – and was eye-opening. She picked up some funny socks for him, a magazine that she thought he might find interesting, some gum, a chew toy for Trigger… and a card, hesitating in the aisle for a moment before getting several cards.
People liked cards, right?
Leaving Target – she went straight to the post office and mailed it to him, hoping that maybe they could talk soon, or perhaps he would understand that she was starting to think of him a little differently.
Maybe?
* * *
The followingFriday she was sitting on the couch, folding the never-ending pile of laundry that seemed to be constantly multiplying and watching a Hallmark show that was making her feel weepy. She loved emotional stuff where somehow it all just worked out – and even though she knew it wasn’t real life? It spoke to her.
Her stitches had been taken out that morning and she had her sore finger carefully wrapped against a metal split. There was a hairline fracture that had shown up on the bone, but didn’t warrant putting her hand in a cast so long as she was careful.
… And heard a knock at the door.
Madison wasn’t expecting anyone and hoped it wasn’t Asher or Lily’s group invading her home again. She had no desire to entertain anyone anytime soon. She hadn’t heard from anyone regarding Asher’s restraining order – except to say that it was ‘active’… whatever that meant.
Peering out the peephole, she saw a Fed-Ex truck driving off… and opened the door.
“Mail?” Max asked, trying to speak more and more now, even if he wasn’t walking yet. He seemed to constantly be hovering between some modified crawl and a weak-kneed hop from place to place while holding onto something.
“Yep. I think something came in the mail, sweetie…” she replied, and opened the door to see a tall box that looked like a squared-off poster tube. Strange. She didn’t order anything – and hesitated.
It was addressed to Mrs. Madison Morrison.
Picking up the box, she pulled it inside and tried not to notice how much her hands were shaking in that moment… nor did she want to admit just how much she hoped it was from Eric – and not some weird, angry prank from Asher.
There were not many that knew her as Madison Morrison… much less referring to her as ‘Mrs.’
“An dat?” Max asked, before smiling and slapping happily at the coffee table he had pulled up on.
