I caught Maddy’s hand and drew her next to me. My heart hurt for her. Flashes of Phil’s daily intake of drugs and booze flickered through my mind. I’d turned a blind eye to his problems because I hadn’t wanted toadmitI’d been hovering on the edge of that path too. The four of us guys had. I never wanted to be like that again.
Phil’s death had heightened my awareness of addiction, of all levels, shapes, and forms. From what Maddy had told me about her mom’s mild stroke, lupus, meds, and alcohol intake, I was concerned for Valerie’s wellbeing. But more so, I genuinely cared about Maddy, about how upset she was, and how Valerie didn’t seem to give a fuck about listening to her. Something about Valerie rubbed me the wrong way and didn’t sit right in the pit of my gut. Something more than her need for a drink. I had a pretty good bullshit detector, and Valerie had set it off. Until I knew why, I’d be keeping a close eye on her.
But an even closer eye on looking out for Maddy.
“Mom?” Exhaustion swayed Maddy’s tone. “Are you seriously going to drink?”
“Oh, shh. It helps me relax.” She opened the fridge, pulled out the white wine from the door, and returned to the counter.
Hmph. I certainly liked a drink too. Vodka calmed my mind and eased the pain in my body. But I didn’t drink every day. Hardly at all now the guys and I were about to hit promo. We needed to protect our vocal cords. Performing drunk or with a hangover wasn’t good. The ache in my hip was kept on a leash thanks to decent pain-killers, not alcohol.
“Valerie?” I shook my head as she opened the bottle. “I’m glad you’re okay after today, but Maddy’s not.” I grabbed two dessert spoons out of the cutlery drawer, then picked up the ice cream. “She’s worried about you and upset. But since you’re feeling better and don’t need her help, she’s gonna have some time out with me. And that is going to involve ice cream.” I held out my other hand to Maddy. “Shall we?”
“Yeah.” With tear-filled eyes, she slid her hand into mine and led me toward the staircase.
“Where are you going?” Valerie fretted, calling after us as she poured half the contents of the bottle to the very top of her big glass. “Aren’t you staying down here?”
“No, we’re not.” Maddy stopped on the third step. I halted behind her. “If you can get a drink, you can put yourself to bed. So...’night.”
She continued up the stairs. I just smiled and followed.
I closed her bedroom door behind us. Maddy’s vast room, with its soft yellow walls, a huge white bed covered in a mass of white fluffy and sparkly cushions and pillows, and amber lighting radiated warmth and sunshine, just like she usually did. But today had dimmed her light. I hoped I could help reset it.
I took off my leather jacket and tossed it on the bed bench. We kicked off our shoes and sat on the mattress. As we leaned against the padded headboard, we ate spoonful after spoonful of creamy, chocolate ice cream. Well, I ate. Maddy had the occasional tiny scoop.
“Your mom is something.” I loaded my spoon with ice cream, then popped it into my mouth.
“Yeah.” Maddy fidgeted with her spoon. “Days like today are hard. Even worse when she doesn’t follow the doctor’s orders.”
“Does anything have to change with her care?”
“I’ll know more once she’s had a follow-up in a few days. They’re concerned about the fluid build-up in her lungs, but they think they can get that under control with meds. She’s always had a limp since her stroke, but now she’ll need more physical therapy to manage the growing pain in her joints. Each flare-up is getting worse.”
“That’s not good,” I mumbled over a mouthful of ice cream. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”
“No. I’m just tired.” Maddy stabbed her spoon into the tub over and over again. “And frustrated that she doesn’t help herself. She goes out. And drinks. And pops so many pills I don’t know what she’s taking half the time. I can’t get her to change. Should I be doing something different? Doing more for her?”
“Hey.” I placed my hand over hers, took her spoon, and fed her a mouthful of ice cream. Maddy licked the spoon clean, then touched her fingertips to her lips. Hmmm. I’d have loved to kiss and lick the chocolate off her mouth ...and the rest of her body...but she didn’t need that right now. “Your mom’s lucky to have you. I know it’s hard, but if she doesn’t want help, maybe you’re doing all you can.”
She puffed air through her nose and rubbed my knee. “You’re so like Sutton. Tough love, right?”
“No bullshit.” I waggled the spoon at her.
“I like that.” A small smile touched her lips as she slumped back against the headboard. “Bridget was with me at the hospital. She’s agreed to work a few more hours per week and check in on Mom.”
“See? You’ve done something more for her.”
“Is it enough?” Worry shot through her tone. “Having Mom move into my home was supposed to make caring for her easier and less stressful since she won’t move to Canada. I don’t want to quit my job unnecessarily. I absolutely love my show. Is that wrong? Is it wrong that I pay for someone to help care for Mom? Am I selfish?”
“No.” I loaded the spoon with ice cream and held it out for Maddy. “You’re allowed to have a life too, especially if your mom can kinda take care of herself.”
“It doesn’t feel like I have a life.” She hesitated, staring at the spoon, then demolished the mouthful.
“I, of all people, understand that.” I could barely recall a time I’d done something that didn’t involve my band. “Sometimes you can’t think straight. Work and responsibilities can be overwhelming. Time isn’t your own. I feel like that every day, especially with a new album coming out.”
“You do?”
“Constantly.”