Page 64 of Deception

Then she couldn’t have had anything to do with Madison’s adoption. Disappointment hit her harder than she expected. “Well, thank you for the cake.”

“I’ll keep you in my thoughts,” Judith said. “The next few days will be difficult. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help—if you handle his estate, you may come across my name quite often in his files.”

Madison frowned, trying to make the connection, and it must have shown on her face.

“Your grandfather helped me get started with Bright Horizons and signed off on a lot of my adoptions when he was a chancery judge.”

“Thanks for the information. If I run across anything I need clarification on, I’ll give you a call.”

“Madison,” Clayton said, coming in from the hall. “Your friends from this morning are here.”

Who was he talking about? Frowning, she turned toward him, and her eyes widened. “Steven?” she said as he stepped inside the kitchen. Terri hovered behind him. “What are you doing here?”

“We heard about your grandfather and wanted to see if there’s anything we could help you with.”

They were the last two people she expected to see. “Thank you for coming, but there’s nothing anyone can do.”

She paused as Terri stared across the room. Madison followed her gaze to Judith Winslow, who’d lost all color to her face. “Do you know Judith?” she asked Terri.

The air in the room seemed to crackle with tension as Steven’s friend slowly brought her gaze back to Madison. “We’ve met,” she said.

Just then the back doorbell rang, and Judith smiled apologetically. “I have a million things to do, and that’s my cue to leave. Good meeting you all,” she said and hurried out the door.

“Be right back.” Madison needed time to regroup after Steven and Terri showed up, and she walked to the back door with Judith. She’d been almost as shocked to see them as the older woman appeared to be. “Are you okay? You seem ... a little flustered.”

“I’m fine. Terri reminded me of someone I knew a long time ago.”

“Thank you again for the cake.” Madison waited while Judith chatted briefly on the back porch with an older lady who held what looked like a casserole in her hands. A few minutes later, Madison returned to the kitchen with the casserole. Nadine and Clayton were talking to the new guests as they surveyed the kitchen counter that held barbecue, casseroles, and an array of vegetables.

“Have you ever seen so much food?” Madison turned to Steven and Terri. “Have you two eaten?”

“Yes.” They both spoke at the same time.

Madison shifted her gaze to Nadine. “What will we do with all this food? Can’t you put the word out that we don’t need anything?”

“I can try, chère, but a lot of people loved your grandfather, and bringing food is their way of expressing their love.” Nadine glanced at the counter. “When your dear mama passed away, we gave most of what people brought to the mission. I’ll call and see if they need food tonight.”

Madison did not remember that about her mother’s funeral, but then she’d been barely aware of anything. She squeezed Nadine’s gnarled hands. “Thank you.”

After Nadine left, Madison turned to Steven. “Did you ever find your friend?”

“He was in Jackson. He thought he was having a heart attack, but it turned out to be anxiety, and they didn’t keep him.”

“I’m glad it wasn’t serious.” Madison was on autopilot, somehow her brain was coming up with the right words. “I appreciate you coming.”

Terri smiled softly. “I wish there was something I—I mean we—could do to help, but I see you have a lot to do.” She exchanged glances with Steven. “We need to be going.”

Again, kindness almost undid Madison. “Thanks,” she choked out.

They started to leave, and Terri turned back. “Could I give you a hug?”

When Madison nodded, the woman wrapped her arms around her. “It’s going to be all right, and in time, it will get better.”

“Thanks.”

Steven squeezed her hand. “If there’s anything we can do ...”

While Clayton showed them out the front door, Madison sat at the breakfast table and rested her head in her hands. Her brain was numb except for occasional bursts of sadness. Somehow her grandfather’s death was worse than her mother’s. Not worse, really, just that it had been only four months since she lost her mother, and now this.

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