Page 15 of Recklessly, Wildly Yours

“The reception is over,” I tell Maddie when I take the seat next to her again. I fill her in on what’s happened and then ask, “Did you call your family?”

“I called my assistant.”

Interesting choice to call your assistant rather than a family member or friend. It makes me wonder about her family. I don’t touch that, though, because if there’s something I understand, it’s fractured relationships. “And?”

Her shoulders lift and then drop as she takes a deep breath. “And I’ve got a mess to clean up.”

From the few facts I gleaned from Sasha earlier, that was a given. But not the information I’m after. “Do you have somewhere to go tonight?”

If I had to bottle and label Maddie’s visible response to that question it would be named Adrift. Uncertainty and vulnerability blaze from her, but more than that, she seems lost. And after she gives a quick shake of her head and swallows hard, I offer her an anchor for the night.

“I have a spare bed if you want it.” When her eyes widen a little and she doesn’t respond, I add, “I’ll stay at a hotel if you’d feel safer being there alone.” She doesn’t know me, and who knows what she’s been through in life. Staying with a stranger wouldn’t be the safest choice to make.

“No, I’m not worried about that. I’m just…I’m overwhelmed by your kindness. No one has ever been so generous with me.” She pauses before saying softly, “Thank you.”

“So that’s a yes to staying at my place?”

“Yes. And I have another favor to ask?”

“I shudder to think what I’m about to agree to.”

Her smile lights up her face. “You’re fun, Ethan, but I promise not to make you go along with any more wild antics. I just want to ask if I can give your address to my assistant so she can have my things brought to me.”

I give her my address to send to her assistant, along with my phone so she can send that text. I then say goodbye to my family and lead Maddie out to the sidewalk where George collects us.

After Maddie asks George how he went with returning the puppy to her owners (he had success), she and I settle into an easy conversation about Callan’s wedding. We’ve just discussed the fun vibe of it when Maddie’s expression turns serious and she says, “I saw you talking with your father. It didn’t look like an easy conversation. And if you don’t want to talk about this, I totally understand, but sometimes I think it’s easier to talk to a stranger about hard things than to people we know.”

That’s been my experience in life too. After a quick glance out the window at the passing cars, I turn back to her. “Dad and I have always struggled. I’m not like my brothers. I’ve never wanted the things he’s encouraged in all of us and this has caused problems between Dad and me.”

“What kinds of things?”

“They’ve pursued wealth, power, success. I just want something simpler.”

“You don’t want any of those things? I mean, it looks to me like you already have wealth.”

“Yeah, I sound like an entitled asshole. I get it. I have all those things. But I didn’t go searching for them.”

Her smile is gentle. “What did you go searching for?”

“People. Honesty. Conversation.” I pause, taking in the way she’s watching me closely. “I went searching for the threads that hold us together, which isn’t something I could ever say to my father and have him understand.”

Maddie is quiet for a long moment before finally saying, “I understand what you’re saying. People think I write songs and sing them for the fame and fortune, but I don’t. I write them because I’m trying to make sense of people and love. Of how we connect and disconnect. Of the pleasure and pain love brings.”

I turn my body so I’m facing her. “Do your parents understand that?”

A bolt of sadness streaks across her face. “My parents aren’t alive. But if they were, they’d understand.” She smiles, her sadness ebbing away. “My father wrote songs. And my mother had the kind of depth I don’t come across often.”

“I wish I could say the same about my mother.”

“You’re not close with her?”

“No.”

“Where did you get your depth from if not from your parents?”

I smile. “That’s an unusual compliment.” Not once in my life, has a woman expressed a similar sentiment.

“It’s also a genuine question.”

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