Madeline clearly had the power to wrap me around her little finger. I found myself saying, “I’ll help you find him a home. The cat can stay at my house until then.”
Madeline perked up. “You don’t think your mom will mind?”
“Not while she’s dating your dad. She was willing to go to the symphony tonight—and this is from someone who’s never listened to classical music in her life.”
“I guess that’s one good thing about their relationship.”
“Yeah,” I said. “There are some good things.” I hadn’t minded spending time with Madeline, and the truth was, I liked seeing my mother cheerful again. Tonight as she’d ironed her dress, she sang along to a song on her phone. I hadn’t heard her belting out tunes since before my dad left.
The memory of her singing grew in my mind along with a dozen other things I’d seen her do differently lately but hadn’t paid much attention to. She laughed more. Had more energy. She’d started cooking new recipes.
For nine months, she’d been trudging through the motions of everyday life with no emotion except resigned resolve and borrowed patience. I’d thought she needed to get back together with my father, that if the two of them fixed their relationship, she’d be happy again.
Maybe these last few weeks proved that a reconciliation wasn’t the only way for that to happen. I’d been so focused on the solution I wanted that I hadn’t cared what she wanted. When I thought of it that way, I’d been nothing but selfish. I let out a long sigh, one laced with recrimination. “Maybe we need to stop trying to keep our parents apart and let them make their own choices.”
Madeline’s head whipped to mine. “Are you breaking up with me?”
“No.” I hadn’t thought about the situation that way, but shewas right. If we weren’t trying to keep them apart, we wouldn’t have a reason to fake date anymore.
“Then what do you mean?” she asked.
I still wanted to spend time with Madeline. I just didn’t want to keep wondering what part of our relationship was real and what part was pretend. But if things ended up turning real between us, it would have the same effect on our parents as when we were fake dating.
Madeline read her own meaning into my silence and groaned. “This has got to be some sort of record. You’re breaking up with two girls in one night.”
“It’s not an actual breakup.” Because I still wanted to see her. I couldn’t imagine going back to the way we were before.
“Yeah,” she said in a clipped tone. “It can’t be an actual breakup when we were only fake dating, but calling it a fake breakup is confusing.”
Maybe a fake breakup was exactly what we needed. We could tell our parents we weren’t seeing each other—and then see each other.
Madeline might not go for that. To her, I might only be a nemesis with benefits.
“I’m not breaking anything off,” I said. “I’m only saying we should talk about our parents later.” We should talk aboutuslater.
A bit of strain left her at those words. “Okay.”
There wasn’t time to talk about more now. I’d reached the parking lot for the animal hospital. We got out of the car and headed to the door. The cat made another concerted attempt to escape the confines of my coat. Madeline was able to contain him until we arrived at the check-in desk and the perkyreceptionist greeted us. Mascot took one look around, changed his strategy, and hid in the coat.
Madeline cradled the bundle, her words tumbling out like a breathless apology. “This cat ran out in front of my date’s car and we hit him. He’s dragging his back paws and he’s bleeding a little.”
The receptionist took the cat from Madeline, looked him over, and turned to me. “Could you tell whether you ran over him or just hit him?”
“Oh, Cooper isn’t my date,” Madeline clarified. “He stopped to help afterward. I don’t think we ran over the cat, but I’m not certain.”
The receptionist considered us again, noting Madeline’s dress and corsage, noting that the suit jacket wrapped around the cat matched my pants.
“The homecoming dance is tonight,” Madeline said by way of explanation.
The receptionist’s gaze still flicked between us in confusion. “I’m sorry this put a damper on your evening.” She didn’t ask where our dates were, and I wasn’t about to volunteer that information. She handed Madeline a clipboard with a form to fill out, told us the vet would do an evaluation, and then someone would speak to us about treatment options.
“Where are your restrooms?” Madeline asked. “I need to rinse out ...” She gestured at the blood and grass stains on her dress. “. . . Stuff.”
The receptionist pointed down the hallway. “First door on the right.”
Madeline gave me the clipboard. “Can you fill this out while I take care of my dress?”
I nodded. Madeline took a step toward the hallway, thenturned back to me. She retrieved my phone from her purse and handed it to me. “Here. You’ll want this. I might be a while.”
