Barefoot Summer (13 page)

“Didn’t Izzy get married?”

“No. She has a little boy, but the dad didn’t stick around.”

“It’s such a big city . . .”

“We look out for each other. Don’t worry.”

But she did worry. What did Jade know of the world? People would take advantage of her naïveté. Of her generosity.

“I wish you’d come home. Mom and Dad are worried. We all are.”

“I’m a big girl. I—I need to stand on my own two feet awhile, you know?”

“You don’t have to go to Chicago to do that.”

“I’m fine. You don’t have to worry.” But there was something in her voice that made Madison do just that.

“Where are you working?”

“It’s like a little coffee shop/café kind of place. I get good tips.”

Chicago was expensive. How could she afford her share of rent? Unless she was living in some dive. If Madison could only get the address, she could check it out on Google Earth.

“You left your favorite scarf. I found it behind the dresser. I can send it to you.”

“Just hang on to it. Enough about me. How’s everything there? Did you win the sailing lessons?”

“I did. They’re coming along.” No point in mentioning Beckett.

“And the play? Have rehearsals begun?”

“Auditions are this weekend. I’m looking forward to it. I miss you being here.”

“The place is a mess, isn’t it?”

“Well, there might be dishes in the sink.”

“And a layer of dust?”

An easy smile pulled at Madison’s lips. Man, she missed Jade. “Possibly.”

She caught her sister up on the rest of the family, then Jade broke in. “Listen, I have to go. My break’s over. I just wanted you to know I’m okay—and hear your voice.”

“Wait, is this the number I can reach you at?”

“It’s the café phone. We don’t have a landline at the moment.”

That was better than nothing.

“I gotta go,” Jade said. “Tell everyone I said hey.”

“All right. Love you, Jade.”

“Love you too.”

And then she was gone. Madison turned off the phone and cradled it against her chest. Jade was okay, for now. Although some of the things she’d said weren’t sitting right.

After checking the time, she dialed her parents. They’d want to know everything.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

T
HE WIND TUGGED AT
M
ADISON
’
S HAIR AS
B
ECKETT GUIDED
the boat back toward the marina. The day had dawned clear and sunny with a bit of a breeze, perfect for her first sailing lesson with Beckett. Having covered the basics with Evan, she’d been ready to start learning some racing techniques. They practiced beating—staying on the wind—and tacking and jibing.

As they approached the marina, her mind turned to her parents. Last night the spirits at her family’s barbecue had been up. Hearing from Jade had set everyone at ease. Madison had found the café online after searching for the phone number and had Google Earthed the place. Not that it did much good.

Beckett eased off the throttle. She’d decided to think of him as a friend. Not as the guy who’d given her the best kiss of her life. Not as the guy whose muscles rippled under the sunlight. Not as the paragon of virtue Cassidy had described.

Friends. That was it.

To that end, she’d avoided touching him, looking at him, or even speaking to him unless necessary. To reinforce her decision, she’d lined up a date with Drew for tonight. He’d decided to audition with her for the upcoming play, having done some acting in undergrad school.
Love on the Line
had won the annual contest for best play by an Indiana playwright.

Madison was excited about trying out for the lead role.
Eleanor was a complicated and engaging character, with a compelling story arc.

After the audition, Drew was taking her to a restaurant over the river in Louisville, a fancy steakhouse. He’d already warned her that he was on call. She’d need to get used to that if she continued to see him.

Beckett guided the boat into the slip. When they neared the dock, she grabbed the rope and stepped ashore, feeling only a moment’s trepidation. She pulled until the boat was in place and wrapped it around the cleat, using the figure-eight method Beckett had shown her.

“Nice job today,” he said, jumping from the boat.

“There’s a lot to learn.”

“You’ve come a long way.”

She wanted to write down some of his instructions before she forgot. There was more to think about when racing than she’d imagined. Trimming, tacking, jibing . . . so much to remember.

The sun beat down on her shoulders as they made their way up the dock. She checked her watch. She’d have time for a quick shower before Drew arrived.

“Hope I didn’t make you late somewhere.”

She started to mention the date then changed her mind. “Nope.” When they reached Dewitt’s, she thanked him and headed for her Saturn.

“How was the date?” PJ plopped down beside Madison in the pew the next morning.

“Not bad.” Seats were filling fast, as the service was due to
start in a few minutes. The pianist hammered away at an old hymn, her silver curls bouncing with each chord.

“That’s all I get? I’m your sister.” She flipped her brown hair over her squared shoulders.

Madison sighed. “We went to Morton’s. All the reviews were right—the steak was superb.”

“I don’t care about the cut of beef. Did he kiss you good night?”

Madison hiked a brow. “Yes . . .”

PJ smiled.

“On the cheek.”

PJ’s lips fell. “Well, that’s a bummer.”

“He’s a gentleman. Nothing wrong with that.” She waved as Mom and Dad passed, taking their seats behind her brother and Daniel two rows up.

PJ straightened her floral skirt. “Your audition was all the talk in Sunday school.”

She’d been pleased by how well it had gone. She’d also been impressed by Drew’s acting skills. “Was it?”

“Yours and Drew’s both. Dottie was pleased to have such talent this year. I think Drew might play opposite you. You’d get to know him well during rehearsals.”

At the mention of the rehearsals, a thread of anxiety wormed through Madison. Maybe her mom was right. Between her job, learning to race, the rehearsals, and her nursing home friends, she was going to be swamped.

“I hope I haven’t bitten off more than I can chew.”

“It’ll be fun.” PJ stretched out the fingers of her left hand and balled them into a fist again. She shrugged her left shoulder.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s weird. My left hand feels kind of funny. Numb.” She looked at Madison, eyes widening. “Isn’t that a sign of a heart attack?”

“Yes . . .” Madison reached out and removed the hair band from her sister’s wrist. “It’s also a sign of restricted blood flow.”

“Oh. Whoops.”

The music minister came forward to welcome the crowd, and Madison settled in. After singing several hymns and having a time of prayer, Pastor Adams took the podium and began the message.

Madison opened her Bible to Luke, chapter 8. The parable of the sower. The seed along the path, the seed on the rock, the seed among thorns, and the seed that fell on good soil. She’d heard it a dozen times. She stared at the text as Pastor Adams began reading, but the words blurred on the page as her thoughts turned to tomorrow’s hectic schedule.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

M
ADISON ARRIVED AT
C
OUNTRYSIDE
MANOR LATER THAN usual. The Kneeling Nanas had already disbanded from their knitting circle, so she found Mrs. Geiger alone in her room.

“Knock-knock,” Madison said, crossing the threshold.

“Hello, dear. Oh, a tabby!” Mrs. Geiger shuffled over in her fuzzy pink house slippers, taking the cat from Madison. “I used to have one, you know. His name was Oscar, and he had a terrible habit of impregnating all the female cats in my neighborhood.”

“Why didn’t you get him neutered?”

“Oh, Mr. Geiger would have none of that. Of course, it wasn’t his cat having litter after litter. It didn’t make for good neighbors, let me tell you.”

“I was hoping to make it in time to catch all your friends since I missed you last week.”

“Well, I’m the only cat lover, and Mrs. Marquart is allergic.” She cuddled the tabby against her bosom, and the cat blinked slowly. “Mrs. Etter’s grandson loves that little hound they adopted. He sent her pictures on the computer, but we can’t figure out how to open them. Oh well, I’m sure Perry will bring some in soon.”

“I’m glad it worked out.”

Mrs. Geiger’s penciled-in brows jumped. “Oh, I heard about the play! Congratulations on getting the lead again. I can’t wait to see it.”

“Thanks. We just had our first rehearsal. That’s why I’m late. I have a lot of lines to learn.”

“I’m sure you’ll be just as wonderful as always. You have a lot on your plate with the play and sailing and whatnot. We’ll be rooting you on at both events. Now, tell me about Jade. The girls will want an update at prayer group tomorrow. We heard she called . . . true?”

Madison picked up a photo of Mrs. Geiger with her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. “Yes, she’s in Chicago.”

“Oh my. Well, she’s safe and sound anyway. God will look out for her.”

“She’s staying with a friend from high school. I’m worried about her.” Madison set the photo down. “She’s so giving, you know that. She’d give a stranger the shirt off her back. I hope she doesn’t get taken advantage of.”

“We’ll keep praying for her, don’t you worry. God’s going to use that girl and her music talent for something special. You’ll see.”

After they chatted awhile, Mrs. Geiger gave the cat a final hug and handed him back. “Bye, little darling. I’d better get my shower and get to bed or I’ll oversleep and miss prayer group. Mrs. Etter gets so wound up when I miss.”

Madison smiled. “Thank the ladies for their prayers.”

“I will. And we’ll keep praying for you and that handsome O’Reilly boy too.”

“I’m actually dating the new doctor in town now—Drew Landon.”

“Hmmm, yes, I heard.” She pulled Madison into a warm hug. “Now you let us know if there’s anything else we can pray about.”

“Will do.”

Madison turned down the hall, stopping to chat with a couple
of residents along the way. She was about to visit with a friend when she heard a ruckus down the hall. She looked both ways, saw no nurses coming, so she followed the shouting.

“I don’t want that!” She recognized Mr. O’Reilly’s gravelly voice.

Madison quickened her steps.

“Get away from me! Get away!”

She arrived to find Mr. O’Reilly on his knees by the window. Beckett was reaching for him.

Mr. O’Reilly pushed his hand away. “I don’t need your help!”

Madison pressed the call button by the bed.

“Come on, Grandpa,” Beckett said softly. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

“Go away! You’re a liar! I don’t want you near me!”

“It’s Beckett, Grandpa. Come on now.” He lifted under the old man’s arms.

Mr. O’Reilly swung his fists at Beckett’s face, making contact more than once.

Madison hurried forward. “Hi, Mr. O’Reilly. It’s Madison. Can I help you?”

Mr. O’Reilly, finally on his feet, pushed Beckett away and turned to her. “Get that ugly cat outta here!”

Nurse Doolittle swept into the room, shooting Madison a look over her bifocals. “You heard the man. Now, Mr. O’Reilly, let’s get you to bed, all right, sweetheart?”

Beckett stepped away, rubbing the back of his neck.

Mr. O’Reilly scanned the room, looking suddenly lost and confused. His rheumy eyes passed over Beckett and came to rest on Mrs. Doolittle.

The nurse took Mr. O’Reilly’s arm and led him toward the
bed. “There we are. Would you like your nice warm socks, Mr. O’Reilly? Your grandson brought them back all fresh and clean.”

The nurse whispered something to Beckett, patted his arm. A shadow flickered over his jaw as he passed Madison and walked out the door.

She caught up with him near the nurses’ station and walked by his side, saying nothing for a moment.

“Are you all right?” she said after he caught his breath.

“Fine.” His voice was flat, like something had caught in his throat, choking off all emotion.

“You’re not fine. Come sit down.” She pulled him into the deserted sitting room and sat at one of the tables. Behind her, one of the vending machines buzzed. The cat curled in her lap and closed his eyes, purring.

Beckett settled into the chair, palmed the back of his neck, elbows jutting out. Threads of red ran through the whites of his eyes.

“It must be hard,” she said.

“It isn’t always like that, thank God.”

But it would be eventually. Neither of them had to say it. “It’s a terrible disease. So hard on everyone.”

He stared off into space. “I don’t know why he calls me a liar.”

“It’s the dementia talking. You can’t take it personally. He doesn’t know what he’s doing or saying. He loves you.”

Beckett sighed. “I know that.” A red blotch from his grandpa’s fist spread over his cheek.

Madison’s heart broke for him. She couldn’t imagine her own grandfather not recognizing her, saying cruel things. Beckett had been so tender and patient with him.