Page 4 of Love me, Maddie Mendoza

“Nothing.”

“What’s going on with your face, then?”

I gritted my teeth and didn’t reply. So yeah, I wasn’t in a talking mood, but Maddie was all about talking.

“Don’t say nothing again, Z.” She warned.

My parents downstairs raised their voices. Maddie’s eyes darted to my bedroom door, hearing the voices beyond. It was just for a second, and then her gaze was back to me. Maddie got comfortable in a chair to my right. I wasn’t getting rid of her.

“What’s going on with them?” she asked.

I lifted one shoulder. “Fighting, I think.”

I knew they were fighting, and it annoyed the life out of me. Not because they were fighting, parents fought - so I was told- and arguments never lasted long in the King house. It was the reason that bugged me.

“What are they fighting about?”

“Money, I guess.” I lied. It was money, it was always money. Money they didn’t have and wanted to have. Money they had and spent on the wrong things.

Money and the Kings didn’t co-exist. It was the reason we moved from our house in the city and came to the cheaper Orchid Street. I was little when the decision was made, but mom always liked to remind us that Orchid Street was our second chance.

How could a five-year-old need a second chance? I didn’t know I used up my first already.

“People always fight about money.” I explained to her. When Maddie didn’t reply straight away, I stopped the ball and looked over at her. “Why do your parents fight?”

Maddie brought her legs up and rested her chin on her knee. “I don’t think they fight. Mom says things, and that’s it. It’s done.”

I huffed and started with the ball again. “Lucky you.”

“Not really. I’d like to have a say on how things are done, or at least have dad on my side for once.”

No parents were perfect, and mine were pretty good, they just were crap with spending. They couldn’t see money in their bank account and not spend it. It became an anxiety of sorts to me. I knew things were good when mysterious items appeared at the house. A new TV set, fresh paint for the kitchen cabinets or a treadmill that no one would touch for months. I liked to have a comfortable house, but I was a kid that wondered if maybe they couldn’t save money just once.

“What bothers you about the fights?” Maddie asked after a moment or two in silence.

I stopped the ball. “I’m not bothered.”

She pinned me with a look I knew I’d not escape. It was so Maddie, to know me inside out and not even ask, but demand a reply.

I sighed. “I don’t like not knowing.”

She gasped. “You think they will divorce?”

I couldn’t stop a chuckle. “No, that’s not what I meant. I’m talking about the money thing. I don’t understand why they can’t plan it better. I wish they did…”

Maddie was already nodding. “You are very stable person, and your parents are… free?” she dared to say with a little smile tugging her lips. “Maybe you would do better with a disciplinarian like my mom.”

“I like to know where I stand.”

“And you know what, Z? One day you’ll make your own decisions. You will be the one minding the money. You’ll decide where to go and what to do. You’ll have a constant.”

“A constant?”

“Yes, like solid ground under your feet.” She sat up, placing her feet on the floor again. “Things will be so boring; they won’t change at all.”

I laughed. “I don’t want things to be boring…”

Maddie lifted one shoulder, “Well, they will be. Get used to it. Stability, what do you think about that?”

---