she was eight again, remembering the time she’d found Mom sobbing in the kitchen one winter day. She’d rushed to her, wrapped her arms around her.
Hugged her tight.
Mom hugged her back. She remembered that clearly because Mom hardly ever hugged her back, so she did not forget the times when it happened.
“Sonny Bono’s dead,” wailed Mom. “Sonny was skiing in Tahoe and ran into a tree. It could just as easily have been me or your dad.”
Fear gripped her. What if Mom ran into a tree when she and Dad went skiing? What if Mom died? What if Dad died? That would leave just Madison to take care of her sisters.
“Maybe he’s just hurt,” Madison had said, trying to comfort her mother and herself. Not that she had any idea who Sonny Bono was. Someone Mom and Dad skied with? But if he wasn’t dead, that meant you couldn’t die while skiing. Right? “Maybe he’s not really dead.”
“He’s dead. It was all over the news.” A fat tear slid down Mom’s cheek. “So sad.”
“Are you going to the funeral?”
“Silly.” Mom frowned and made fart noises with her mouth. “I can’t go to Sonny Bono’s funeral. He’s a big celebrity.”
“Oh.”
Mom went back to crying, sobbing as if her heart would break over a man that Madison had never heard of. Would Mom cry that much if she died?
Dread took Madison’s hand, and to this day she could still recall the stark fear that had driven through her. The fear was why the bizarre memory stuck. Goose bumps raised on her arms and she shivered hard as if she’d had a premonition.
Flash forward one year later. A babysitter was staying with them at their house in Denver while Mom and Dad skied Vail. It was early afternoon and they’d just trooped in from building a snowman on the lawn. Two policemen came up on the front porch. They looked grim and sad, as if they were truly sorry for something bad. The words the tallest cop had spoken were forever branded in Madison’s mind.
Avalanche on the ski slope. Five lives lost.
Her mother and father were among them.
In a flash, Madison’s greatest fear, that she’d be left alone to raise her younger sisters, came to pass.
Later, when they found out they did have a grammy, the burden lifted from her young shoulders. But Madison had never forgotten—and had never let go of her need for a family.
Even after Shelley blew it all up.
Kneeling in front of the hope chest, Madison reached inside and found the photo album she’d gone searching for, tucked it under her arm, and slipped out the front door, just as she heard her sisters coming in the back.
She settled into the front porch rocking chair. Moonglow Boulevard glimmered empty in the moonlight at this time of night. The blooming honeysuckle on the fence scented the air sweet.
Pulling in a deep breath, Madison opened the album.
In the first picture she saw her mother sitting in a waist-high snowbank with a red tasseled ski cap perched atop her shiny blond hair. A true snow bunny who’d been born on a Texas coast when she should have been born in the mountains. His little Snow Bunny, that’s what Dad called Mom. On the next page she saw her mother in her wedding dress—not frilly and fancy, no lace or tulle—simple satin, a bluish white. Her hair pinned up in a French twist Bridget Bardot–style. She wore too-thick false eyelashes, and her lips were painted a deep scarlet as she winked coyly over her shoulder at the photographer. She saw Mom in her Target uniform, red polo shirt and khaki pants, headed out the front door, a spiteful expression on her face as Dad snapped the photo. Mom had hated having her picture taken in that uniform.
Hated that job.
Sometimes, her mother hated the world.
Madison had no idea where the bitterness came from, but from time to time she felt it brewing up inside herself. Whenever things didn’t go according to plan, when her expectations went unmet, when people didn’t dance to the tune of her drumming. It was an unattractive trait. She knew it, tried to harness her anger and rein it in, but she wasn’t always successful.
Particularly around her sisters.
Once upon a time they’d been so close. Could they ever be the way they were before? Or would they, one day, end up completely cut off from each other like Grammy and Mom, because they could no longer find common ground?