her tombstone after scrubbing it clean to the point of blistered knuckles. Then I sat down next to a paper plate full of muffins I’d baked at dawn, brushing the cold stone as I filled her in on Layla’s shenanigans.
“I forgot to tell you. I was also chosen to design the Dream Wedding Dress at work. After marrying half the kids on my block, I finally created my own, personal dream dress. Know the best part, Mom? Even when my boss didn’t really like the design, I stood my ground and made it happen. But the thing is, I’ve come to understand that maybe the perfect dress I’d been obsessing about is not the thing I should be most worried about. I think I just let go of my dream man. And . . . it frightens me.”
Silence stretched across the crisp morning air. Birds chirped, and everything was coated with fresh dew. I drew a deep breath, closing my eyes. “You know, Mom, I finally figured out it wasn’t my fault. I know it sounds bizarre, and maybe a little juvenile at twenty-six, but there was always a small part of me that wondered if you were taken away from me because I was a horrible person. I no longer think that way. I see Katie and Chase and Lori, how they are losing the person they love most, and I get it. Life is like a game of russian roulette. You really don’t know how it’s going to pan out for you; you’re just here for the ride. Tragedy is like winning the lottery, but in reverse. But I can’t be afraid to live anymore. To let people down. To cower. No more Martyr Maddie for me. I thought if I was good and sweet to everyone, I’d prevent another disaster. But you can’t expect to win the lottery, so why should you be constantly worried about having another tragedy turn up at your doorstep? I’m done playing it safe.”
I kissed the tombstone, giving Mom’s name one last brush.
“By the way, you would have loved Daisy. She is a hoot. I’ll bring a picture of her next time I come visit. Do you know Chase was the only man who ever entered my apartment and didn’t get the pee-in-shoe treatment? Do you think it’s a sign?”
I looked around me, actually waiting for a sign. Like in the movies. A dramatic lightning bolt slicing the sky. A flower opening unexpectedly into full bloom. Even a phone call from Chase himself would have been sufficient. Which was why the stillness of everything around me made me chuckle. Kismet didn’t happen in real life.
Just as I turned around to walk away, a groundkeeper appeared from behind a tree, holding a leaf blower and sparing me a tired smile. He wore a black uniform. The tee that stretched across his chest read in white: Black Solutions.
“Thanks, Mom.” I smiled. For me, it was enough.
Chase: Is the offer to be friends still on the table?
Maddie: You mean the one you rejected?
Chase: *While highly intoxicated and nursing a shattered ego. Yes.
Maddie: Yes. I would love to be there for you.
Chase: What are your plans for tonight?
Maddie: Watch Daisy chasing after Frank the squirrel in her quest to make love to him?
Chase: Can I join you?
Maddie: I mean, you’d have to ask them but the bar is set pretty low for Daisy if she chooses Frank for a lover.
Chase: Plus, it would be consistent with my devilish reputation to bang her roommate.
Maddie: Oh boy. I would pay good money to see your face when Daisy and Frank go at it.
Chase: You need a hobby.
Maddie: Not all of us can afford entertainment in the form of exotic ranches on lakes and mansions in the Hamptons. Us mortals have to make do with less lavish time wasters.
Chase: You mortals also have Netflix.
Maddie: I withdraw the invitation to watch Daisy and Frank recreating Gone with the Wind.
Chase: What if I come bearing food?
Maddie: Sushi?
Chase: Naturally.
Maddie: We’re on. But no lip about my movie choice when you get here. I don’t like your sass.
Chase: Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.
Chase: Thank you for taking Katie and Mom for lunch. They appreciated it.
Maddie: Technically they took me.
Chase: You paid.
Maddie: Sneakily.
Chase: You’re good at sneaking into places.
Maddie: Like where?
Chase: My heart.
Maddie: Was shopping for sex toys with Layla. What did you delete? Where’d I sneak into?